Another Birthday Present

Now, before you all get all upset about my husband giving me a kitchen appliance for my birthday, he didn't. He actually gave me a gorgeous pair of Frye boots I had been drooling over for some time, but didn't buy because they were stupid-crazy expensive. As it turned out, once they arrived and I tried them on, I didn't like them nearly as much, so I sent them back and ordered this instead, with his blessing. (Yes, it's bright red. Is there a theme here?)

I've always wanted a KitchenAid stand mixer. My mom had one while I was growing up (still in use, and it's 35 years old), and I used it for all sorts of things. But I have a very small kitchen and everything in it has to pull its weight and then some. This mixer has to stay on the counter--it weighs a ton and won't fit in a cabinet. So for many years I've made do with a series of cheap hand mixers.

For the most part, it's been okay. But I like to bake sourdough, and the endless kneading is sort of getting to me. So I've been thinking about a stand mixer for a while. The real tipping point, though, is Younger Son and his love of baking. He's always loved to cook and bake. Even as a preschooler, he would always beg to help in the kitchen. I would sit him on the counter and let him pour in ingredients, or put him on a counter stool and let him make eggs or stir soup.

He's 11 now, and quite competent in the kitchen. He has been our grill master for the past few years, and our cookie maker for a while now. Lately, he has been expanding his repertoire dramatically, which is great. Except that he's not really big enough yet to handle some of the heavy duty mixing on his own, and a hand mixer doesn't work for cookie batter or bread dough. Which means, of course, that I hear, "Mom! Can you give me a hand, here?" a lot more often than I really want to. I figured we'd both really appreciate a heavy duty mixer, for many reasons.

I ordered it from Amazon for an excellent price and it arrived Tuesday evening. Younger Son was thrilled. He immediately called dibs and baked banana bread (a little brown--totally my fault; I sent him to shower and failed to pay attention to the oven):

Then he gave me orders to buy ingredients for a pumpkin cake while he was at school the next day. He's been asking for a bundt pan for some time (how many 11-year-old boys know what a bundt pan is?!), so I got him one as a surprise.

He baked this after school:

Pumpkin cake with cream cheese frosting. Delicious!

Have I mentioned I'm on Atkins? Low carb? No flour or sugar? Yeah. This is torture.

Why I Love Kids--Reason #731

They don't need a reason for balloons.

Still No Knitting Content

I had planned to begin an FO Parade today, but that would have required actually getting FOtos. Which I didn't. We had lovely weather yesterday (if you consider 84 degrees in January "lovely"), but it was also the first day in almost three weeks that Younger Son has been well enough to go out, so I took him to the zoo instead.

You read that right. Three weeks. The poor kid got the flu (despite a flu shot), which lasted ten days, and then he developed pneumonia and dual ear infections. He was absolutely miserable. This began (naturally) on what would have been his first day back to school after the interminable winter break. The KH and I have been tag-teaming kids for over a month now. Today would have been our first kid-free day--so of course Older Son woke up with a fever and headache, and I am home with him instead of doing the bazillion other things I need to be doing.

Like getting FO pictures. &%^$!

Poltergeist?

This is the sight that greeted me when I got up in the wee hours of yesterday morning. My immediate thought was, "We have a poltergeist. Well, naturally." After all, we've had everything else: kids home on break, ant invasions, chicken moult, flu, flooding, fires, skin eruptions--heck, throw in a few locusts and it's been a regular parade of biblical plagues around here. What's a little poltergeist?

But then I looked a little closer and found this:

And I realized that the creative furniture arrangement was the result, not of a poltergeist, but of a frustrated husband. You see, this is what we call The Spot. The Spot is ground zero in the Great Canine Battle for World Supremacy, otherwise known as The Pissing Contest. For the past several months, Heidi and Sam have been locked in mortal combat over "ownership" of this patch of carpet in our dining room. We have tried everything to put an end to this contest. We have gated the area, laid towels and tarps, sprayed it with every "get the hell out of here spray" known to the internet, lain in wait to catch the culprits in the act, yelled and screamed, locked dogs in the laundry room, and confined them to our room at night to keep them out of the area. We have scrubbed and shampooed and swabbed and sopped and sprayed and sprinkled in a vain effort to rid the house of the vile odor emanating from The Spot. And we have failed. Failed utterly. Failed to keep the dogs away; failed to remove the smell. The night before last was apparently The Last Straw.

I was not awake for The Last Straw (praise all gods that be). I was trying to get a few hours of sleep after spending the day caring for a child who was doing his best impression of the little girl from The Exorcist, with a fever that never got below 102 degrees, even with Motrin. (The administration of which was a saga in itself. Suffice it to say, the child can't swallow pills, pukes up liquid meds, and will take only orange flavored chewables, which the KH discovered have been discontinued only after visiting five stores in search of them.)

Since I had to be in court at 8:00 am, I went to bed early, leaving the KH to watch Finding Nemo with Exorcist Boy. At some point after that, but before 1:00 am, which is when EB finally fell asleep, one of the dogs evidently upped the ante in The Pissing Contest by elevating it to A Pooping Contest. And this, it seems, was The Last Straw. The white stuff on the floor is salt. Two boxes of it. It's supposed to be a great desiccant (that's something that dries stuff out). In my mind, I picture a Great Lake of Pee under the carpet, so two boxes of salt seems pretty inadequate. But, hey, it can't hurt. I'm pretty sure nothing could be worse for the carpet than what's already on it. What you can't see in that picture is where the KH pulled the carpet up to look under it. He assures me it is not wet underneath a few feet away and that there is no Great Lake, but I find this oddly un-reassuring. (At some future date, I'll be happy to share with you my Rant Against Wall to Wall Carpeting, The Stupidest Thing Man Ever Invented. It's sure to be illuminating.)

After pouring the salt on The Spot, he created that fantastic modern art installation by piling most of the dining room furniture on top of the living room furniture to create what he tells me is a dog-proof barrier. But considering one of the dogs involved routinely jumps the entire sofa in a single bound to land smack dab in the middle of the KH's desk when she feels neglected, I remain unconvinced.

On the bright side, school break is over, the chickens' feathers are growing back, the yard is starting to dry out, and I have Raid, a fire extinguisher, and two more boxes of salt in reserve, so I'm cautiously optimistic. I don't have anywhere to sit and my sick kid is home for the fourth day in a row, but still. Cautious optimism. How's that for an inspiring mantra for the new year?

Got Money?

Actual conversation with my ten-year old yesterday:

Son: Mom, which one is better, Harvard or Yale?

Me: Harvard.

Son: Huh. How come?

Me: Because I went to Harvard.

Son: You DID?!

Me: Uh huh.

Son: Wow! No wonder you're so smart. I'm going to Harvard, too.

Uh oh.

I'll be accepting donations to his college fund, in case anyone's interested.

And So He Grows

I've mentioned before that the KH and Older Son are in Civil Air Patrol, which is the civilian auxiliary of the U.S. Air Force. The KH was a cadet for several years way back in the 1970s in Ohio, and it was a major life experience for him. Older Son joined the local squadron when he turned 12 last year. Since then, he's participated in many really great events and programs, but last week he took part in the most important CAP cadet experience: Encampment. This is boot camp for CAP cadets, and it is just as tough for them as real boot camp is for new military recruits. We knew he had no idea how tough it was going to be, and we wondered how he would do, and how it would change him.

Saturday was graduation day. It was the culmination of a week of 18-hour days, grueling physical training, enforced silence, endless drill, and a wild roller coaster ride of teenage emotions. For Older Son, it was a week of firsts: getting up at 5:00 am; learning to make a bed with military precision; standing perfectly still for hours on end; facing and overcoming seemingly impossible obstacles; eating, sleeping, and peeing on a schedule...and his first shave. Which I missed. For some reason, this one detail represents for me everything he experienced during this intense week of change and growth.

He's only thirteen; I still think of him as my little boy. But at the same time, he's turning into a man before my eyes. Even as he drives me crazy with his messy room, his bizarre, testosterone-driven decisions, and his endless drama of teen angst, he has moments of remarkable maturity, impressive competence, and genuine responsibility.


There are brief, shining instants when I see past the little boy he has been and the half-grown adolescent he is to the man he is becoming, and it is inexpressibly poignant.

It is a mother's job to raise adults, not children. Doing her job well renders her obsolete. It will be many years yet before my kids are truly grown and gone, but every now and then I can see the future in my little boy's eyes, and I wonder what sort of man he'll be. Will he be strong and competent and responsible? Will he be compassionate and thoughtful and reliable? Will he be the man I am trying to raise? I don't know; I can only watch and wait and hope.


But for now, in this moment, I have never been prouder of him.

What Summer Looks Like Around Here

Wipping Things Into Shape

Unlike the U.S. team, my WIP Cup project is still in the running.

I finished the sleeves last night and sewed all the seams while watching a couple episodes of "Medium". It hasn't been blocked yet, so it looks pretty lumpy, but I love these cables.


I'm going to get to work on the collar today and then block it while I choose some buttons from my little button stash.

But Spicy is only a small part of the wipping we've been up to around here. My other project yesterday was this:

See that massive pile of vines? Nine or ten years ago I planted two one-gallon vines, one on each side of the arbor over the dining room window, not visible in this picture. In the interim, those vines have all but taken over the back of my house. Initially I was really pleased with the way they grew and spread and completely covered the 30 year old patio cover that has seen better days. But they are amazingly messy, necessitating daily sweeping of the patio, and the patio cover itself is in desperate need of repair and paining.


So yesterday, with the aid of the KH, I tackled the removal of the vines. It was horrible. Hot, sweaty, and absolutely filthy. We live across from a nature preserve, which mostly seems to preserve millions of rats. They love our yard. There is food galore from my fruit trees and vegetables, a constant source of fresh water from the pool, and lots of vegetation they can hide in. Like piles of vines. When the KH fired up the hedge trimmer and made the first cut, half a dozen of them flew out of the vines like...well...rats.

In yanking and pulling and chopping down the vines, I came across at least half a dozen separate rats' nests. And the poop...oh, God, the poop! I'm sure I have hanta virus.

It took about four hours to yank down and chop up all the vines. I filled every trash can and yard waste can we own, and finally resorted to stuffing the cuttings in large trash bags for future pick up (the city will only take trash in city cans).

But here's the result.

Of course the sad state of the patio cover is now all the more obvious, but that will soon be remedied. We're going to repair it, beef up the posts, and paint the whole thing. I figure I can get at least a few more years out of it.

I can't believe how much more light there is in the house now! I had forgotten how bright the kitchen and family room were before the vines grew in. I love all the light.

Best of all, without the vines on the patio cover, I won't have to sweep the patio every day, and the kids and dogs won't be continually tracking leaves and debris into the house from the back yard.

The kids lost no time in taking advantage of the newly-cleaned patio with a nighttime pool party and S'mores roast:

All in all, a successful day.

Next week, after the trash cans are emptied, I have to tackle this:

That's my son's bedroom window in danger of being swallowed up by the same vines.

But as Scarlett said, I'll think about that tomorrow.

Sleepover?

My kids had a "sleepover" last night.

I don't know why it's called that. There is no sleeping involved.


There is lots of screaming and running around. And Nerf guns outside my bedroom door at 7:00 am.

This used to be my living room. Now it is a "fort."

My son asked why I was taking pictures. I told him it's to keep me from getting too nostalgic when they grow up and move out.

Noro Jag

Ah, Spring. The time when a knitter's fancy turns to thoughts of Noro...or is that just me?

I'm on another Noro jag. Happens every once in a while. Remember last year's must-have Noro Giant Granny Square? This year it's the Noro Log Cabin Blanket. The need to make one of these (Rav link) bit hard while I was in Lake Tahoe. And thanks to the internet, even though I couldn't make my intended pilgrimage to Jimmy Beans Wool in Reno (seems some of the males in my household don't see the necessity of driving two hours round trip to visit a yarn shop from which I can order yarn online in a matter of seconds--party poopers, all of them), I discovered that Noro Yuzen has recently been put on clearance by a number of my favorite yarn pushers...uh, suppliers. I ordered mine from WEBS here, but it's also on sale at Little Knits.

This is a round about way of explaining that I bought a blanket's worth of Noro last week. Wanna make somethin' of it?

And here's the current progress:

I started two days ago and have discovered, despite all the other projects on the needles, that these little squares are a lot like potato chips: I can't have just one. In fact, I'm not sure anything else is going to get done until I've turned my entire supply of ever-changing Noro colorways into log cabin squares.


(Don't mind the wonkiness. I haven't blocked any of them yet.)

I bought two hanks each of ten different colorways. Each hank makes one 11-inch square on size 7 needles at 18 sts/4 inches in garter. Don't be fooled by the gauge listed on Noro yarns. It's always wrong. I don't know whether yarn gauge is measured differently in Japan or whether it's just a Noro thing, but I find the yarn is always at least one size larger than listed; in other words, this "dk" weight yarn is really a worsted/aran weight yarn.

In case anyone is of a similar mind, these squares are wicked easy to make. After the first one, you don't need anything resembling a pattern to whip them out, and you may not even have to look at your hands, if you can resist staring at the color changes.

I worked this one sitting in Younger Son's academic awards ceremony today (honor roll-yay!).

He's the one on the far right. Congratulations, Goober!

FO: Chevron Scarf...and a whole lot of excuses

I realize I owe y'all some actual knitting, and despite my lack of blogging, I have been knitting, so let's get right to the FO, shall we?

This is my Chevron Scarf, which I started about two years ago. Apparently, I am not a scarf knitter. This one would probably have sat for another two years without any further attention from me, except that Suzanne blogged about her new Signature needles and showed them in use with a Chevron Scarf, and I am nothing if not corruptible. My excuse for ordering a pair of my very own was that the only size 3 needle I had was a 40" Addi circular, and knitting a 6" wide scarf on it was driving me crazy (I know, I know...it's not a very long trip). But the theory seems to have been correct, since once the Signatures arrived, I finished this long-suffering UFO in a couple of days. It's not very long, since I only had one skein of Koigu and one of Fly Designs Monarch, but since I'll probably never have a reason to wear it, the length doesn't really matter. It goes perfectly with my brown faux lamb coat--which I'll probably also never have a reason to wear. (Gotta love the land of eternal summer.)

Now for the excuses. You may have noticed my lack of blogging. Mostly I'm just lazy. But there have been some extenuating circumstances. Such as, I got a new laptop! No, not a Mac, although I considered it. I got a Sony Vaio. I used to have one, and I loved it, but when it was time for a new one, I got an HP. It worked. Sort of. But I've had it for three years, and it was starting to fall apart. Literally: the hinge on the top broke and now it can't be opened or closed, which kind of defeats the purpose of a laptop. Also, there is a short in the screen, so that it only gives a picture if the screen is opened to exactly the right spot. It if moves while in use, the picture disappears. This is a little scary when you're in the middle of putting together a gazillion forms and documents and you're not quite sure when you last hit "save". Much as I love the new computer, it takes time to install applications and move files, and...well. You understand.

Second, the kids have been busy, ergo, I have been busy. Some of it has been not so much fun, but some of it has been great. Like this:

That's Younger Son on the left, intently setting up his team's Lego robot to compete in the regional FLL qualifying tournament. (In case you're not interested in clicking the link, FLL stands for "FIRST Lego League," which is an international engineering competition for 9-14 year old kids. They use the Lego Mindstorms robot kit to build robots to complete a variety of preset tasks. They also have to come up with and present a unique project to a panel of judges based on a given theme, which was "smart move" (future transportation). They are judged on robot performance, robot design, teamwork, and presentation. At the end of the day, awards are given in a variety of different categories, the finale being the presentation of trophies to the three teams that earn the highest total points.) There are about 15,000 teams internationally, with about 200 in California. There were 22 competing this day; the top teams qualify for the state competition, which will be held next month at Legoland California. Younger Son's team consists of nine 9-10 year olds. They've been working on their robot and project for several hours a week for the past couple of months. They have awesome coaches and are sponsored by BAE Systems. And I guess it paid off:

Here they are at the end of a very long day, collecting their awards!

They took second place for Robot Design, and first place in the overall competition! They were so excited. They were also exhausted, as the day began before dawn and went until 5 pm. Now they have three weeks to recover before the next competition.

And that brings me to my third excuse for poor blogging performance, which may be a little startling to those of you suffering through storms and cold weather. This is the peak of fall gardening season here in San Diego. I love to garden. Although spring is my favorite season, there is definitely something to be said for fall, with its cooler temperatures after a long, hot summer, and the chance to clear out all the summer overgrowth. This year, there was even more to do, since the puppies ate my entire yard over the summer, and we had the pool redone and built a deck. After several weeks of work, I've got it just about under control:






This is one of those times when I really appreciate living here. Because, really, how many people can do this in the backyard in the middle of November?

"Elvis is Alive!..."

"...I just found him in my backpack!" (actual quote from Older Son).

I had my kids clean out their school backpacks to use for daycamp this week. This is just the trash from Older Son's backpack. No wonder it weighs 40 pounds.

WTF?!

I can just see the headline now:

Middle School Maniac Manages Minor Miracle!

No one was more stunned than I was, although he may have been a close second.

Parenting, Part Two

The Middle School Maniac is not pleased.

As part of the last round of "What the &*%! is up with your grades?", my husband and I concluded that the cell phone Older Son got for Christmas (that he would have just died without because absolutely everyone else has one and he feels so diminished by being the only kid without one) is an integral part of his current focus problems. He's so distracted by talking to his friends and texting and what new games he can get and how to play music on his phone that everything else is secondary. I know I'm not the first parent to discover this, and I'm sure I won't be the last to decide to restrict cell phone usage only to the weekend. But, boy howdy, my kid thinks I'm the meanest mom ever. I think that means I'm doing something right. At least I'm not alone in the the doghouse; my husband took the phone away for the weekend, too, in response to an act of defiance and disrespect. I suggested to Older Son that he might be able to get some lenience if he apologized sincerely. He responded that he had nothing to apologize for, and to prove it, he spent the evening digging through the law books in our office, searching for proof that "kids have the same civil rights as adults" and that he is "entitled to a fair trial." Poor kid; with two lawyers for parents, he doesn't stand a chance.

On a side note, has anyone else seen the show "The Strictest Parents in the World"? I think it's new; we watched it out of curiosity over the weekend, wondering what strict parents look like. The premise of the show is that indulgent parents who can't control their defiant teenagers send them to live with strict parents for a week. About halfway through the show, my husband turned to me with a look of dawning horror and exclaimed, "Are we the strict parents?!" Huh. Who knew?

And because this is still a knitting blog...or (ahem) at least a fiber-y blog, here's the update on the GGGSS:

I'm still loving working on it, despite the unwieldiness of such a huge single piece. The constant color changes remain endlessly entertaining (I'm simple that way). And I think the mindless repetition of double crochet is about all I can handle at the moment.

The end is not yet in sight, but we are slowly closing in on the goal of seven feet square:

Very slowly.