reading challenge #9

I started The Perfection of the Morning by Sharon Butala one rare day when I was riding the subway alone. When I stepped off at Eglinton station a woman stopped me to say the book was an all-time favourite of hers, and that she happened upon it at a time in her life when she needed a change. The woman, who easily looked 20 years younger than she told me she was (and my goodness, I believe she told me she had 6 children!) left quite an impression on me and certainly inspired me to dive right into Butala's words that night.

Published in 1994, The Perfection of the Morning is equal parts memoir, meditation, and call-to-action. This title had actually been on my non-fiction wish list for some time, and I'd say it completely lived up to my expectations. I did however, read it at a leisurely pace and I'm not sure if that's because I was savouring the experience, or, being a city-dweller with little to no contact with nature, I just couldn't keep focused on the subject matter for too long. Butala herself admits that until you have a similar experience with nature, it is hard for a writer to find a common language to say what they want to say. Which leads me to one of my favourite sentences ever as written by Butala: "The world is more wonderful than any of us have dared to guess, as all great poets have been telling us since the invention of poetry." And being National Poetry Month (for which I have been writing a haiku a day, for better or worse) I think it's just a great sentiment to share.

I was also quite drawn to Butala's musings on how living in nature affected her dreams and the relationships she developed with the wild animals around her ranch. Also her thoughts about women were inspiring even though she admits to believing we have a long way to go before equality is ever truly achieved. Overall, it's quite a wonderful read - I just think the prose had a pace that I had to adapt to. And in the end it inspired me to do something totally new: I suggested to Jay that we disappear to a cottage this summer for TWO WHOLE WEEKS, somewhere that has land around it and a limited number of technological distractions. He readily agreed and we have now booked this vacation, which is my first two week vacation since graduating university. I just hope we city-dwellers can get through it without pining for the internet.

And the knitting comparison: since this is essentially a meditation on nature, I think a very meditative, repetitive project like a throw would be the most fitting. I have not knit a throw yet - it just seems like such an ambitious project to take on, but I can imagine the relaxing quality it would have. And I think this pattern by Norah Gaughan is the perfect choice.

cupcake love

Yum, yum. My Mom got me the best baking book EVER and now Sadie can enjoy moist, decadent cupcakes. I should probably explain: one of the main reasons we have been baking so much around here - apart from the fun factor - is that Sadie is allergic to both dairy and eggs. This makes sweets and desserts especially hard, but luckily the vegan route has been very kind to us. The cookbook Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World is hands-down amazing, and already we've adapted the recipe to make a full-size cake and it had none of the density of my previous cake attempts (sorry to Sadie - at least we'll get it right for birthday #4!) It was a sad day when we took Sadie to a birthday party and there was not one single thing she could eat, so now, cookbook in hand, we can bring along cupcakes and share around. Everyone wins.

Also, cupcakes are pretty much the most fun food to make. In the first photo Sadie is grouping sprinkles, which would appear to be a very serious matter. And icing? What kid can resist licking that sweetness off their fingers? Sadie was smitten with the chocolate icing from this batch, which yielded enough to top two dozen cupcakes (half chocolate, half vanilla). Note to self though: making two dozen cupcakes over a two day period is not good for your waistline...or Jay's. I guess it's not just kids who are smitten.

(And P.S. - what a fantastic cover design too. I just never want to put this book away.)

reading challenge #8

It feels a bit like cheating, but I chose a children's book for my Yukon portion of the challenge. Truth be told, it was downright exciting to get this in the mail from Amazon, probably more so than the novels. I mean look at those colours! This is Children of the Yukon by Ted Harrison, and although the content is years ahead of Sadie's interest, she was captivated by the paintings (especially the ones with purple and pink skies). And the best part is that I learned a lot about the Yukon that I never knew while getting to enjoy the wonderful illustrations. On a whole it may scream 1977 (the year it was published) but hey, I'm a child of the 70's and it feels perfect to me.

A very simple knitting comparison: although I have never posted the final garment, I knit the Swing Thing coat for Sadie in a very colourful Noro yarn. The striping effect resulted in a truly technicolour sweater for my little girl, and this book reminds me completely of the whole experience, especially watching the stripes take shape in my hands. And something tells me that a sweater just might come in handy in the Yukon.

bluebird

Ragdoll finished her book. Chris has 26,000 words. Unfortunately I am still bumbling through a handful of ideas, unsure if anything will be near complete for our May 1st pact.

I won't say writers have it easy, but what I do envy is that they can print off their project and place it on a table with a satisfying thump. The pages will be crisp and in order. Our feedback will start from an expectation of storytelling. But how do I pull together something that is as tangible, something that has a clear starting point for discussion? Do I gently place a series of bluebirds on the diner table formica and hope the chaos of lunchtime doesn't kill the silence of these creatures? Of course, I may just be procrastinating with this line of thinking - at least I have a goal, a pact, and on May 1st I'll get some sort of face-to-face feedback about my work from people I admire.

So, about the bluebird. I've always avoided blue because it's just one of those colours that doesn't speak to me, but during my week off I realized it was right colour for this work. I'm leaning to the gray/blue end of things, but for me colour is incredibly symbolic and I'm still happy with this decision. I wasn't entirely sold on stitching paper onto my last bird, so I'm trying embroidering one letter at a time, with an idea of how I can arrange them later on. I prefer that it is all fibre now, and the blue linen is so melancholic and quiet. I'm not sure if I like the wing much, so next time I'll embroider before I piece together the body. Of course, these are small details, but I overthink them and it can keep me from progressing entirely. I'm trying to push ahead regardless and with Jay spending every night in studio for a show he'll have in June, I've been joining him instead of knitting on the sofa. Thankfully, every little bit adds up in time.

Which reminds me, as much as the sofa is beckoning me over, it's time to go play with blue.

15 years later

Most "making" came to a halt while I was sick, but there was one project that I managed to finish. The joke though is that I started this project at least 15 years ago. I'm pretty sure it was the end of highschool and my Mom and I scored a Vogue Crochet magazine (I say score because it really was a highlight, and yes, I was that geeky for crafting even as a teen). The magazine made granny squares look pretty hip. Not so hip however was my choice of wool; it seems I haven't always been the wool snob I am now. I purchased some (gasp) 100% acrylic boucle yarn for this endeavour in a surprising combination of black, gray, yellow, orange and aqua. How I managed to keep all the yarn and squares in one place for more than a decade is beyond me. And even more beyond me is how I remembered it while I was languishing on the sofa.

Fifteen years ago I hadn't a clue for calculating yardage, so I never would have had enough yarn for a full blanket. I managed to finish up a baby-sized blanket which has already worked well as a lap blanket/cat magnet. I ran out of the black yarn completely and used Fable alpaca for the last two squares and the picot edge which is hard to see in the photo (I must stop using black wool if I ever want a decent photograph!) Part of me is planning another granny square project, especially after seeing this, and this and this. You'd think after 15 years the style would have gone back into the closet, but there is still a really hip edge when you use the right colours and wool. I can promise wool snobbery for my next one, though I may be wooed by the ripple pattern instead. Who doesn't need a project to sit around for another 15 years, right?

reading challenge #7

Knock on wood, but I don't often get blown over by winter bugs, but oh my did I get trampled last week. I only made it into work for one morning and I was dragging my heels the whole time. It was just some viral infection, but I barely had the energy to get off the sofa. Even sitting at the computer was unthinkable. When my eyelids weren't hurting I at least got a bit of reading done and even took a break from my Canadian list to read Belong To Me by Marisa de los Santos.

But back to the Canadian list. I think a review may have hinted at this allure, but certainly the short story title "The Day I Sat with Jesus on the Sundeck and a Wind Came Up and Blew My Kimono Open an He Saw My Breasts" gave me reason enough to try A Song for Nettie Johnson by Gloria Sawai. And I figured a collection of short stories would add variety to my reading list. Lucky for me, it was a delightful read.

All but the final three stories are set in one small Saskatchewan town and I appreciated being able to link characters and storylines. My only criticism is that the collection wasn't entirely set in this town; by suddenly changing locations and introducing new characters 3/4 way through, I felt a little cheated, like I hadn't been given notice that my time with this town was coming to an end. But it is only a small criticism because the stories that followed were compelling and complete themselves. And anyway, the very last story was the Jesus, Kimono and Breasts adventure so I sure wasn't about to abandon ship.

Whether through the voice of a teenager, mother searching for her estranged husband or a recovering alcoholic, Sawai's interest in faith is always present. However, there is not a single word that is preachy or absolute - faith is viewed through the thoughts of each character as merely a fact of their identity. Basically their identity is informed rather than formed by their religious belief. One passage that I just had to earmark was this:

"But one thing I do know. And no one can argue against this fact, whether they're Communists, Christians, Buddhists or Jews. There's no nation in the whole world, not a single solitary one, without mothers."

I think that calls for an "Amen".

And my knitting comparison: A Song for Nettie Johnson is like a 10 row-repeat lace scarf, something Louisa Harding would design. I can never memorize a lace pattern so I have to reference the row order for each repeat and I learn something new about lace each time I complete a section. Plus no repeat can stand on its' own, only the collection of repeats really creates the garment. There is just no match for lace - I am always amazed that something so pretty can be knit by hand.

reading challenge #6

Phew. I just finished Swing Low: A Life by Miriam Toews and I had to jump up and start writing to save myself from tears.

Toews' father Mel suffered from manic depression all his life yet amazingly he managed to have both a successful family and career which many might regard as some of life's greatest accomplishments. Toews' tells Mel's life story from his point of view and indeed it was Mel's voice that was the highlight of the memoir for me. I can understand why he was a favoured teacher and an important member of the small town Mennonite community, and also, a much-loved father (even considering he was distant much of the time).

"When I was a young man I vacillated wildly between thinking everything mattered, that every word, every action, every task was important, to thinking that nothing at all mattered, that everything was futile. I had a gambler's mentality, all or nothing. Just as I appeared close to achieving normalcy and balance to a point where I could say Life is Good, I would notice myself cracking under the pressure of its goodness."

I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been for Toews to write this memoir after her father's suicide, but it is so gentle and fair and truly a treasure to read. At times I had to remind myself that this was a daughter piecing together the reasons why her father acted the way he did and how he became afflicted as he was. But definitely his story is worth telling, and the strength of Mel and Elvira's marriage is nothing short of inspirational, giving me a healthy dose of perspective. I had almost picked up A Complicated Kindness, but I'm so glad I got sidetracked by this one instead. And the baker in me is still in shock that Mel's mother was an alcoholic her whole life by drinking vanilla! Vanilla! The lengths she would go to drink and deny her drinking were simply fascinating.

The knitting comparison: a simple, seed stitch scarf that you knit for someone you love. I'm reminded of a scarf I knit for Jay that I started when we spent a quiet week at a cottage with Sadie. He helped me pick out the wool and I asked for his advice on width and style. The scarf was just about him, and as I knit and purled away I contemplated all the things that make him unique to me. It's not a quick stitch, but it is simple and in the end I had a garment for someone who meant more to me than I maybe realized at the moment I cast on. Reflection is a wonderful thing.

small progress

Two weeks ago now, I took a week of vacation. Sure, the Christmas holidays weren't long ago, but I just needed it. And I made a promise to myself to keep all pens safely locked away in case I tried to write a to-do list.

My Dad is a man who cannot sit still and I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that I am the same. The only way I can justify watching TV is by having knitting or embroidery in my hands. Admittedly, the first three months of Sadie's life were very hard on me because she was a 20+ times a day nurser and I would sit on the couch wishing I had a hobby that could be done with one hand (I finally realized I could read, so that was something). But the flip side is that she taught me how to relax, how to just sit and how to enjoy the tiny moments. So here I am, 3 and a half years later and I'm becoming the old, utterly unrelaxed me again. I don't doubt the crazy pressures at my full-time job are partly responsible, but suddenly I'm back to craving accomplishment in every small pocket of time I have to myself.

At least there is one change this time around: I know exactly what is happening. To force a relaxed pace I didn't make a single to-do list on my vacation and beyond making a cushion on my first day off, I just spent hours and hours alone in my studio playing. Many of those hours were spent embroidering the tiny piece above (onto raw silk, so the counted cross-stitch was making my eyes go buggy) which is one of many "unsaid" thoughts I've been embroidering over the last year, part of an idea that's been lingering. And the next photo is just the groundwork for something else but I love seeing old paper quilted. The taking apart to put back together again is such an interesting and insightful process.

But the week was over almost as soon as it began and I'm back to the regular whirlwind of our lives. Perhaps Spring will bring with it reminders to stop and enjoy the quiet moments, the fresh air and happy times with friends and family. And maybe I should spend more time sitting down with Sadie, because really - it doesn't get much better than that. Let's just hope she'll want to sit down with me...little girls can be a wee bit fickle.

the things she says

Sadie on whether she'll learn to knit: "Maybe someday when my feet is big and my bum is big, then I knit."

Of course.

perfectly practical

Clearly there is a huge problem with knitting a black sweater - it is simply impossible to photograph. Combine that with our dark house and it's game over for getting a nice shot. I stretched the levels to the limits in Photoshop to try and bring out a detail or two, but this is the best I could do before turning myself Martian green.

This does not however, affect how happy I am with the sweater. My plan last year was to make a top-down raglan with fuschia Cascade 220 after using the green for my first sweater (thanks to a class at Knitomatic). But Jay reminded me that I might be happier with black and he was so right. For all the effort of knitting something this big I should love it to death. So I picked up Sublime Merino DK, which is by far my favourite wool, promptly had yarn shortage anxiety, but in the end had just enough to complete the whole thing. It's soft and springy and I want to wear it everyday (plus it cold-water washes like a dream, and comes out feeling even better). The class taught me a bottom-up version, but I did a top down so I could better control the length. The cuffs, neckband and bottom band are seed stitch and I shaped the body ever so slightly to make sure the sweater clears my waistband.

I'd also like to point out that the last time Jay took a photo of me wearing my knit Sahara, I'm wearing the same pants. Perhaps I need more pants, and not more sweaters?

Pattern: my own
Wool: Sublime Merino DK, 11 balls
Needles: 4.5mm bamboo circs and Pony DPNs