girl at large

give me the biggest you got

Visiting the notions stall at the market this morning, in search of a very large, fat crochet hook:

-Yes, Madame, what are you looking for?
-I need a big hook please.
-Like this?
-No, I like it much bigger. Like this. (hand gesture, you can imagine it)

pause.

-Will this do Madame?

("like"? why, why did I use the verb for 'like" when I meant 'want?', ok, 'want' doesn't sound much better.)

petite poncho

Just finished up this one for Grace's 2nd birthday---it's from a grown-up poncho pattern, same as I used for mine, but with a few changes: sized down for her of course, in the bobble stitch (rather than double crochet stitch) with double-crochet stitch contrasting seams and trim, and those dandy pom-poms. She loves it!

home rainy home

As of first thing this morning, I officially have a home in Portland! Woo-hoo! It's in the Goose Hollow area, which borders both the downtown area and the popular, posh neighborhood called Northwest, which is similiar in feeling to the Lincoln Park area of Chicago. The building (third pic) is similiar to the building I loved living in, The Graham, in Savannah---same era (late 1920's/early 1930's), vintage charm, brick exterior and my apartment has a BALCONY. I'm a very, very happy girl. And, most important, they accept dogs. See an aerial photo and read the stats of the area here.

Now, to book a flight and make all the other complicated arrangements--least of all figuring out how to get a bed installed for my arrival.

like butter. or chocolate. yum.

I have to tear myself away from this project under duress, it's such a pleasure to work on---the yarn, Bouton d'Or Dandy Bo Wool/Silk in Cigare and Taupe, is YUM, YUM, YUMMY. Though it's just a simple stitch (double crochet throughout) and a simple beginner-style project pattern (two rectangles of same dimension sewn together to form poncho, edged in I'm-not-sure-what-yet), it's this sheeny, cushy, bouncy gorgeous yarn that's making it a treat to make up. I'm never gonna be able to go back to bargain bin yarn again. Sigh.

I dream in stitches.

The big blanket is getting even bigger, by necessity. I'm heading off to Portland later than originally planned due to the difficulties involved in arranging an apartment from so far away. I'm still waiting for the final confirmation and paperwork to be complete, as soon as it is then I can book a flight. So, looks like I'll be leaving, most likely, the first week of October. No complaints of course, but when I do go I'll be heading directly into winter. Have to finish this big blanket!

...all this handwork and learning (lots of reading up, studying patterns and techniques) has me regretting not picking it up again years ago...there was a time when I wanted to study fiber and textiles design in art school (at least that's what I ticked on the form).....and of course, I'm missing the endless information, books and classy yarn selection that Mom had both at home and at her store, The Fibre Shop, back in the day....I had no idea how good I had it....

...and, I missed Portland's Knit Out! (like how they tack on 'and crochet too'? crocheters always get the second-class treatment in yarn circles, ha ha). But, both Fiber Arts Northwest and Mabel's Cafe should still be there when I arrive...and Yarn Garden.....and .....

on the rocks

Big local topic of discussion this week: the mega-sailing-yacht Mirabella V broke anchor and grounded herself on the rocks near Cap Ferrat during gale-force winds while in a dangerous spot (everyone else with any sense, or so they say, was moored in harbor or at very least, not sitting on that side of the point), sat stranded and damaged for two days before being shifted free and assisted-in for assesment and repairs. The incident was given a lot of attention--front page of the Nice Matin newspaper, full color picture, above the fold--because Mirabella V is the largest sloop in the world, just completed and launched this year, owned by the American gazillionaire-owner of Avis car rentals. He's never going to live this one down. Wonder what happens if I park my next rental car on a hill without the parking brake on?

have credit card, will travel

Mom's having a good time in Los Angeles (or as The Custard likes to call it, Smogville) this weekend, visiting Thomas and generally cleaning up his act, well, his apartment anyway. She's a dangerous thing in a Target.

visit revisited

Gordon, Mom's gentleman friend, sent these pictures that he snapped during our dinner party when Mike and Matt were visiting last month. Check out that last one---Mom and Mike, all that love! Pity Gordon was too busy taking pictures to be in one!

not just for sewers

Miss Grace's love of snarling crocodiles and alligators aside, these Crocs look to be perfect shoes for kids, and, for adults who spend alot of time on their feet or in slippery (boat!) conditions. Made of a high-tech closed-cell rubberized stuff, they conform to your feet, maintain a non-slip grip and are highly ventilated, making them very comfortable--or so they say. I haven't tried them myself yet, but they are on my growing 'check out when back in States' list.

aside: little Grace and I spend alot of time imitating animals, making animal sounds and gestures, as you are likely to do with a nearly-two year old. The snarlier and nastier the beast, the better. (That's her opinion, not mine!)

watch out California, here comes Mom

Mom's leaving the tranquility of Door County for the bright lights (and freeways) of Los Angeles this week to visit Thomas. Wonder what those two will get up to?

darn it

I've started a new crochet project, after having found a new learn-to-crochet book entitled, appropriately enough, Learn to Crochet (by Sue Whiting, published by New Holland) at the local english book shop. It is a very helpful addition to my other teach-yourself crochet guide, Vogue's 1971 Guide to Knitting, Crochet and Macrame (!), found in the basement used book section of the same shop. Between the two, I'm getting the hang of it. I'd better be, since this is my fifth or six project. I know now why the blanket I made for my sister's baby shower was 'growing' so much--I had very carefully, erroneously, added a stitch to each row. Oops. This new blanket (something to keep for myself this time!) is coming along much better, especially as I've taken the time to block it out properly---Bert is bemused, though silent, about the large strips of crochet work pinned down on the dining table. As long as it's cleared away by dinner time, he doesn't say a word.

Maria, on the other hand, noting my speedy progress on such a big blanket, has suggested I might be in need of some male companionship. Duh.

note: In addition to the books, I've found a few online resources for crocheters (knitters don't get all the love anymore!), including patterns and help at crochet me and a friendly blog from yarngirl.

is it just another day?

this is the day, three years ago, that i learned of the insignificance of refrigerators. all my loving thoughts to those who know what i'm talking about, and a few more loving thoughts to those who don't.

teatime reading

woo-hoo! The English bookshop had a hardcover copy of 'In the Company of Cheerful Ladies', the latest in Alexander McCall Smith's series of No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency tales. Pure, pure joy to read.

American-style

I had to explain to Maria what a "McMansion" is today. Why have one of those when all you might need is one of these?

oh, the things people say

--"Miami's airport was crowded with tourists whose vacations were ruined or interrupted by Frances. "I think it's a big fuss over nothing," said 35-year-old Geraldine Lamb, who was visiting from London."--
Right-o sweetheart.

"Nothing" being Hurricane Francis, just on the heels of last month's deadly Hurricane Charley.

head check

I just hate that I'm one of those women. I just hate it. It is the ulitmate in insulting cliche to end up this way. Yet, there is nothing I can do about it. The universe (yes, I blame you) has made it so that I am One of Those Women--you know: just over thirty, biological time bombs, half-ass career (I use the word "career" lightly), no equity, chronically single (I tell you, a decent-smelling bricklayer with a nice mom would do GREAT right about now), divorced (starter marriage nearly a decade under the belt), clinging to individual expression through handbags and shoes (attempts at such rendered null and void by sheer numbers of other women doing the same thing with a limited selection of said handbags and shoes--it's a supply and demand thing), wandering place to place, looking for that next 'cool' place that will make everything ok, still pissed at Daddy, etc., etc.

So, I'm this far head-up-my-own-ass when the Russian school children held hostage crisis breaks into utter chaos, bloodshed and horror.

And I'm a shit. A self-ish, self-centered, pathetic shit.