Of Cars, and Bent Needles

I will not hide that I have my ups and downs and that little things can get me bent out of shape. There is something about Bostonians and cars. Really! They wake up, probably all nice and pleasant, dress up quietly, so as not to wake their sleeping children up, they drink the coffee lovingly prepared by their spouse, they get dressed, paying attention to the details, after all this is one of the most European cities in America, they give a kiss good-bye, they close the door, and go to open the door of their car. And there, at that very moment something happens. They go completely insane. Nothing can stop them anymore. They will go as fast as they can out of their spot, they will zoom away, and they will get there, before the other million people who are posessed by the same demon. They will drive, at full speed, up one way streets. By the way, school buses are not exempt from that either. They will ignore all lights. When parked and trying to get out, they will bump the car in front and the car in the back. When you are crossing, they will show not intent of slowing down, but rather honk at you madly, and swerve around you. Bostonians know no white line. If they miss an exit, no problem, they go across all the lanes, in a mad dash to make that exit!!! They have to be under some sort of magic spell. They will stop at nothing to get the car going, and it can sometimes be a very difficult thing. A few weeks ago we had a snow storm, followed by rain, and then the temperature dropped. Everything froze. The cars, parked along the streets, had about a foot of completely frozen snow around them. I saw women, in high heels, with their little Louis Vuitton purses, pulling little hammers out of their purses, and delicately trying to "ting-ting-ting" hammer the ice. I saw people sit in their cars pushing on the pedal madly to get the car to jump out of its ice cage. I was also saw people dig their car out, but only to bury the car in from of them. Don't think that I just stand there and do nothing. I actually help. This poor man, was desperate, he could not open the car door, and was hopolessly blowing on the key hole, and I got him hot water to try and thaw the lock. The lock thawed, and without as much as a thank you, he sat in the car, and turned out to be the one who tried to make his car jump out of the ice!
While all this goes on, I sit in my comfy chair, a cup of coffee by my side, a pair of socks on the needles, and I watch. Sometimes I have to get up, knock on the window, in particular when a posessed driver starts dumping all the ice and snow in front on my front steps, which I just spent time cleaning in the freezing weather!
Enough of cars for today.


The living room is going to take a little longer than I thought. I managed to finish the second coat on the two walls. That leaves me with a lot of trim.Oh well, I guess there is no rush. It's not like John Kerry is going to drop by for a visit any time soon!


My mother in law's second sock is at the toe, but I don't know what happened to my needle! I left the sock on the kitchen counter last night to go for a walk with Rolfe, and when I cam back the needle was completely bent. I asked the kids, but nobody seems to know anything about it. It almost looks like they did not even know I knit! The conversation sounded kind of like this: "Did something happen to my knitting while I was out?" Response: "What knitting?". "You know, the socks for Inge." "No, I don't know, where were they?" "In the kitchen." " I disn't see them there, and I didn't go to the kitchen." Now if only one of the children repeated these words to me, I could tell which one had a little something to do with the socks, but they all repeat the same thing. I should not have had them all read the Three Musketeers!


Talking about musketeers, makes me think of super heroes, and I think I'll just end my post today with a picture of Skye as "Super Grandma!"

Early Morning Thoughts

I am sitting in my room, the curtains are open, and the sun is rising. Through the windows, against the backdrop of the blue grey sky, with its touch of red eyeliner, I see houses everywhere and the tops of the Boston skyscrapers. That is life. You know for a city, Boston is remarkably quiet at night. It is actually way quieter than Petaluma, where the sounds of the highway seemed to wake me up every night at 4 a.m., and I did not even live close to the highway! Here it is the rising sun that wakes me up every morning.
This morning, I decided to change my routine a little. From now on, I will get up at 5 a.m. with Rolfe, prepare his lunch, and will have my coffee with him. This way I'll spend one extra hour with him everyday. And then, once he leaves I can get to my writing for an hour, and then take care of the family, and be ready to start our school day at 8 a.m.
Now for the update on the house... I am still not done with the living room. I did take the day off from painting on Saturday, but got right back to it on Sunday. Two walls still need a second coat of paint, as well as the odd pillar that sits in the middle of the room, the mirrored cabinet needs a second coat of semi-gloss, and one door needs everything. Well, what do you think, two more days? Then I have to tackle the covers for the chairs my parents gave me, you know the ones in the picture in the previous post. I have been debating between slipcovers, and upholstering. I found the nicest velvety fabric, in a smashing blue color, covered with my favorite flowers, tulips. I have enough fabric for either solution. If you have any thoughts please leave a comment. Any suggestion on how to make a cover are also welcome! I am starting to chew my nails just thinking about it!
I will not procrastinate. NO, I will tackle the task, and be done, and I will not get side tracked by any other project, like a lovely sock. There, that is said.
Talking about socks, well I am slightly behind schedule on my mother in law's socks. I finished the first one, and am on the gusset decreases on the second one. I know that she will love them, even if I am a few days late. While I was working on the socks, I was thinking about how nice it was to knit gifts. Gifts that you take the time to knit, or crochet, or paint, are so much more meaningful than store bought ones. I don't know if it is just because while you work on the project you think about the person you are making it for, or if it's just that you took the time. I find so much value in not rushing through life, so much that you feel rushed to pick a present. It is so easy to just fall prey to the lure of speed and efficiency.You jump in the car, drive off, drop the kids at their activities, run to the store, grab a present and rush back to pick up the kids, stopping at the grocery store to pick up a quick fix meal. I live at a slower pace. Those of you who know me well, know that I don't know how to drive. I live at the pace of my walk. The children and I walk to the library, the grocery store. We may not "do" as much in a day, but we take the time to breathe, and look around us. We take the time to cook meals, we take the time to study, to read, and of course to knit.
In the time that I have been writing, the sky has turned light blue, the red eyeliner has disappeared, I can see people walking in the street, my day has started.

Progress

I have made definite progress, and would say I am about half way done with the living dining room. I of course could not resist the temptation to start arranging some of the furniture in the finished area. What do you think? These two chairs are some of the chairs that my parents brought to me. They were actually my first pieces of furniture ever. I am so happy to have them back. It makes my home feel like home. The first place that I had was of course a lot smaller than my current house. It was a tiny apartment in the 16th arrondissement of Paris, overlooking a courtyard. The walls were a soft linen white, the floors, a honey wood, and it got the softest filtered light, and actually when I think about it, my house reminds me of my first apartment. The light here is the artist's delight. It makes my yarn look glorious.





The other side of the room is not quite there. And once again a picture is worth a thousand words...














I did find the time to knit last night, and made some progress on my mother in law's socks.













I also had to start something else. Here is a peek at it. Soft, fuzzy baby alpaca, and the coolest pattern, (I am desgning it, and taking great note!) and of course it's a sock!

Sorry I did not write on Friday, but as you know my parents' furniture was arriving and so did a huge snow storm, but let's start from the beginning. I talked to the truck driver on Thursday night, and he said: "I'll call you at 7:30 a.m. to tell you if I can deliver with the storm. If I can, I'll be there at 9." I let my parents know, and I went to sleep after setting up my alarm clock for 7 a.m. At 7:20 a.m., I got a call from my mother, which I could only imagine was frantic, in her nightgown, hair standing straight up on her head, glasses askew, "Caroline, le chauffeur est la!!!" (the driver, is here.) I said I was on my way, I hung up, and dashed upstairs, swearing at every step, and of course, in my great hurry forgot about step number 7, the one that is half the width of the other, and crashed. I heard a voice coming from upstairs: "Are you OK?" I slammed the wall with my fist, composed my voice, and said: "I'm fine, thank you." You know, once a lady, always a lady.
I put on whatever clothes I could find, and since I could not find my socks borrowed Rolfe's, and ran out the door.
The driver was this little, elderly man, who was convinced my parents could not understand a word he was saying. He seemed relieved to see me, in particular when it came to explaining to my parents how one of their antique chairs had a broken foot. I stood for 5 hours outside giving directions to the delivery people, directing them to one room or another. In my great hurry, however, I had forgotten about hat, gloves, and scarf. The temperature was about 25 degrees F. The snow was starting to fall, increasing gradually to light blizzard strength. To keep warm I climbed inside the truck, I even started unloading stuff. I think the guys were very surprised, to see this little French woman in high heels ( I forgot to tell you that of course, I picked light leather high heel shoes for the delivery!) pushing and carrying boxes!
My parents were happy to be setting up their new home, and I got to help them, which made me happy.

The rest of the day was great, as it was snowing so much. The kids had never seen so much snow fall at once, and we went for quite a few walks during the day and in the evening to be able to enjoy the blizzard fully! It did take a 30 minute boiling shower to thaw me!



On the painting front, things are going well, but I am feeling some sense of urgency. Alexandra's cello teacher is coming in a few hours and the living room looks...interesting... To make things a little more confusing, my parents actually returned some of my French furniture to me now that I have a big house, and room to put it. In any case a picture is worth a thousand words.





On the sock front, I decided to knit a pair of socks for my mother in law's birthday on the 23rd of this month, which means that each time I put my paint brush down, I will knit a row, actually each time my hands are free I will be knitting a row... As of now this is how far I am with the socks. Rolfe does seem a little concerned about the deadline...

The Yarn Harlot is coming to Northampton!

The Yarn Harlot is coming to Northampton, which is only a couple hours away from me, and is also the home of my school, Smith College. I have told Rolfe, he is renting a zip car, and we are going! This will definitely be a memorable date, both for me and Rolfe! I just thought I would mention it, since I had been whining so much about not being able to see her in Petaluma. And thank you oh Knitting Gods for answering my knitting prayers!

Yesterday

Yesterday was an interesting day, and definitely a character building day. It was a day when the rooster in me was pushed out of its coop, and it "cocoricoed". The zen knitter, however did not quite make it. It all started when I got up to find the coffee machine had once again backed up. Now this would be OK, if it was not the second coffee machine I had had to buy in three months. The first one turned out to be a mission impossible, and auto-destructed. The second one, and mind you not the same brand just backs up all over the counter on a regular basis. I think I may be switching to tea. I have great trust in the old tea pot!

After cleaning the coffee disaster, I turned to the other counter to find a note by Rolfe telling me that the new printer I purchased only the day before was missing its USB cable. I called the people at the store and told them. I also told them that since I did not want to return the printer, but only wanted a USB cable, could I just stop by with my receipt, instead of having to haul that 3 ton box all the way back. The charming attendant's answer was a question. "Was it an open box?" Well, it must have been opened at one point, but there was a large quantity of tape, and stickers saying it had been inspected by the store staff. Her answer, was that it was obviously their mistake, and I would have to bring the whole thing back, and be sure to have the receipt, or they would not be able to help, because I guess, how could they know that the box covered with their ugly labels, and with computerized labels, had indeed come from their store!!!! I just don't get the system here. It is a system where it is obviously their mistake, and I have to go through all the extra trouble to correct it!

The sun was shining outside, and it was a comfy 60 degrees, so I decided to let it all go. I would just go by another USB cable, and not worry about the whole thing. So the kids and I went to get a cable, we walked along the park, looked at the beautiful geese, threw sticks in the river, had a burger, and then decided it was time to go home. That is when all hell broke loose. In our local transportation system, children under the age of 11 ride free with an adult carrying a monthly pass. So as I always do, I lined up the kids ahead of me, put my pass in, the gates opened, and then I heard a screaming voice "COME BACK, YOU COME BACK RIGHT NOW". I turned, and at my surprise, the lady in uniform was "addressing" me. She told me, I had to buy another ticket, as only two of the kids could ride free. I told her this was not what I had been told. She yelled even louder that I had to come back, and buy another ticket. I gathered the kids, and walked back through the machines. I tried to tell her again that I was told differently, and that the three children could ride free if I had a pass. I say tried because she kept insisting I had to buy another ticket, and would not listen. I then asked her to show me the written fare schedules. The yelled answer was "I DON'T HAVE TO SHOW YOU NOTHING, YOU DO WHAT I TELL YOU!" I put the grammarian in me aside, and told her I was quite willing to purchase the extra ticket, my credit card in hand, but could she show me the fare schedule. I don't really remember what her exact words were after that, I just remember being cornered between her and the ticket machines, and her screaming angry voice echoing throughout the station. So I joined in, it was the only way I could put a word in and tell her that she could not yell at a customer like that. She finally walked away, I bought the ticket, because I am honest. When I tried to go through the gates again, this time my ticket did not work, because it stops working if inserted in the machine more than once in a certain amount of time. She royally ignored the problem, and truly I was not about to ask her for help. I dragged the kids, who at that point were all in tears, and we walked to the next station. I did call the public transportation customer service, confirmed that children ride free with an adult carrying a pass, advised them to post their fare schedules visibly around, and make sure their employees are aware of them. Needless to say I was very upset about the whole thing.

Now that I think about it, it is kind of funny, and in some ways so predictable. I should have remembered that there is no point trying to convince a person who thinks that because they wear a badge they know everything. When she started yelling I should have just dialed the customer service number, and started knitting my socks while I was on hold, gotten the answer, and then have had the customer service representative repeat the correct fare info to her. That is what the perfect zen knitter would have done! Knitting socks, is the answer to all problems!

I spent the rest of the day knitting. Rolfe's socks in the Claudia Argyle colorway are now finished. They are nice, even if I was a little frustrated by the differences between the hanks of the same dye lot. I know that hand-dyed yarns are unique, but having each sock, and in my case each leg, and each toe uniquely different might be pushing it a little! I asked Rolfe if he would mind beeing the man with the sock of a different color, but he reassured me, and said he would love them, and that if anyone noticed, they would be looking at his socks way too closely. That reconciled me with the socks, and I now look at them as artistic variations on a theme!

I cast on the stitches for Paul-Hugo's socks using the lovely Jojoland Melody in the blue colorway (the one that matches the new colors in the kitchen!)
I will not have that much time to knit today as it is now the dining room/living room's turn to be painted. The two rooms are almost as big as my whole California house! There goes another week...

The kitchen... I absolutely love it! It is not quite finished, one more dreadful cabinet door to paint, and the trim to finish and it will be done. How did I do it so fast? I will answer with another question? What do you do when you hate painting the doors? YOU REMOVE THEM!!! Ah, ah! That's what they call the "system D" in France. I sewed some curtains to create storage areas, and bought jars to store the goods in the shelves. Here are a few pictures, but please ignore the open electrical boxes, that's next on my list.
Now why the bread box picture? This morning as soon as my favorite little pixie walked in the kitchen to ask for her breakfast, she looked at the strange object, and said, pointing, " What's that, Mom?" I responded it was a breadbox, and slid the lid open to reveal the golden bread inside. She immediately said: "I want toast!" Her enthusiasm made me realize that bread in a plastic bag, or cereal in a cardboard box, does not do the food justice. It made such a difference in the kitchen. The grains, cereals, beans, cookies, spices and teas, all seem to sit proudly on their shelves, warming the kitchen with their golden tones. Food is as much a pleasure for the eyes as it is for the mouth. You know, when I think about it, I transformed the kitchen into a yarn store!