finishing

I can't believe it, two days ago I was complaining of the cold, and today it's up above eighty...
Decided to take some pictures of the stash and to finally upload everything to ravelry, in an effort to keep myself more organized, though I fear tis a futile effort.
Yesterday I went to take a picture of my finished Colonnade shawl, pre-blocking, and when I went to lift it up a moth flew out of it. I saw him a few days ago, in the bathroom, but I had assumed he was just staying for the night and would find somewhere else to go. Well, I suppose he did find another place - and I don't blame him, the shawl is extraordinarily comfortable - but it shocked me just the same when he came flying up at my face. I used a piece of card and a jar to get him back outside, but couldn't resist taking a picture of his sweet little face beforehand.
In taking out everything to take pictures of it, I've found several abandoned projects. Some were frogged, but a few will have to be ressurected. I'm just so bad at finishing, the knitting I'm fine with, but the weaving in of ends? Such a bother. I really should get on that though.
Another thing I finished recently, but that also needs to be blocked, is the blue Annis. That little ball - that's all the yarn I had left after binding off. That last row was rather terrifying, I didn't know if I'd have enough to make it. Same with the Colonnade, actually - nearly ran out of yarn on that one as well, although with that one my intention was to use up as much of the skein as possible, so I suppose it was self-inflicted.
Still need to weave in the ends on both of them though...
I suppose that - with finishing updating ravelry - will be the object of next week.
I've two weeks until volleyball starts back up, and a month until school... it seems almost surreal, I've so much time and at the same time so little. A lot to do, too, even besides the fibre-crafty-related objects of business. Loads of Spanish, some summer reading homework, and of course I need to go through my warderobe and dispose of everything worn out and outgrown and replace it with bright shiny new (or, at the least, new-to-me) things. I need new school shoes, too, and to go buy all my textbooks. August is when I switch out of both camp mode and lazy mode, and get back into my schedule of going to bed early and then waking at the crack of dawn. I find often I'm much more productive that way. Yay, being a morning person! No, I love the way the morning is so fresh and new, and unspoiled, and quiet. It's somehow exhilirating, being either the first person awake or the last person still up, to know that all around you your world is sleeping.
I'm looking forward to the rest of August.

It's been cold enough that it doesn't feel quite like summer. I made borscht yesterday, with the loveliest fresh beets from the farmer's market, and some absolutely adorable carrots. There's enough of it that I'll be eating it for the next week, most likely, but I don't mind, because it tastes amazing.

There's been some knitting going on, too, and it was with shock that I realised last night that I only have one true wip -- the other ten on my ravelry project page only need to be made up and blocked. Once I get around to that I'll finally have something to show for all my effort. No wonder I've been feeling like I've been knitting and knitting and knitting and not getting anywhere! The Olympics make for a perfect time to work, too. Sit there, oogle the athletes, and be impressed by their work, all the while clicking away.

I haven't written a lot lately, and I'm gradually easing back into that. It's freeing.

Borscht:

3 potatoes

1/2 of a tiny cabbage head

Pinch salt

3 small beets

3 carrots

1 tomato

Some oil

Several dashes of dried onion

A few peppercorns and two bay leaves (or more, or less, to your tastes)

Coarsely chop the cabbage into cubes. Cube the potatoes. Put both into the soup pot you plan on using, and fill with water until vegetables are covered. Add another cup or so. Add a few pinches of salt -- careful, you don't want this too salty -- and set on the stovetop to boil away until potatoes are cooked through.

While the cabbage and potatoes are cooking, grate the carrots. Coarsely grate the beets. Chop the tomato into tiny cubes. Put some oil on a pan, add the dried onion (or half an onion, chopped, if you have it. We were all out of onions so I had to make do), and let sizzle until on the lighter side of golden brown. Add in the beets, carrots, and tomato, and cook until done -- or as long as you can bear. A lot of the moisture will have evaporated, and the texture will be slightly different -- softer. Make sure it doesn't burn.

Add the peppercorns and bay leaves to the soup pot. I put them into a tea strainer so it's easier to fish them out, but you can just let them float and take them out as you serve. Add the contents of the pan to the soup pot, stirring, and let it rest at a low boil for at least fifteen more minutes.

Serve with a healthy dollop of sour cream and a few pieces of black bread.

briefly

I'm living in a city of boxes while we fix yet another part of the house-that-breaks.

In this strange place, time does not exist. I duck in and when I leave it's been half a month. Kind of like Narnia.

Pictures will be coming shortly (the camera cord is in one of the boxes. No I don't know which one), as well as a re-cap of my recent trip to Alaska (summary: mountains! flowers! water! glaciers! and repeat.).

Letting go

In March, I started a sweater.

It was grey - a beautiful warm grey wool, lofty and springy and nommy. And it was warm. It was going to be a cozy raglan, with bright red buttons along the top decrease edge. The sort of sweater you cuddle in. The sort of sweater you wear while drinking cocoa, curled up by the window when the rain is beating on the roof.

It was the perfect sweater - until I tried it on. The fit was terrible.

I frogged it last night. This way, the yarn can become something else, instead of being that one ugly sweater stuffed in the back of the closet, never to see the light of day.

Letting go was hard, but I did it. And I am happy about it.

floral personalities

Sorry about that. I completely did not mean to neglect this little corner again! Hopefully with the advent of summer I will have more time to just sit down and write.

In the interim between the last post and this one, spring has finally happened. It has been an unusually cold one -- so much so that I was somewhat startled when I went to change the calendar and saw that it was already June!

But it is, and June means birds in the mornings and in the dusky evening, and the sun rising earlier than me (such a welcome change, to be able to sleep past the sunrise and still get to school on time), and the end of most blooming things. I apologise that most of the photos are somewhat out-of-date; I had time to photograph last week, making use of the lovely weather, and this week I finally carved some time out to write.



The rhododendron sisters are done blooming. They were gorgeous while they lasted, bright pinks in the dismal grey mornings with the ever-present drizzle.

And the lillies-of-the-valley have started. They make me smile, these little delicate white blossoms. They look like basins the fairies gather dewdrops in to wash their faces.

Puck the dogwood is almost done. He's mostly green, with a few faded blossoms left at the top, like a tired crown.

But Ophelia, my lovely ruffled iris, has just begun. In fact, since I took this photo she's just completely burst into bloom - this morning she had three flowers open. I'll try to get a few more pictures tomorrow, because she is beautiful.

Is it strange that I name things? Inatimate objects? I don't know. And I don't really care, because it's so much nicer to call the little tree-bush in the front "Tatiana" than it is to call it "the little tree-bush". Because the flowers, the trees - they have their own personalities. You can find them, if you're willing to just sit in the sun and let it all wash over you.

There's Puck, the dogwood - he's getting older, but still blooms every year. Cheerful, hardworking. Or Tatiana - young, small, her flowers are little delicate white things. She sprung up from the stump of the old cherry tree, and she persisted through a (very) wet spell and a (very) dry spell and a severe pruning and still is the wild spirit she was in the beginning.
Or Desdemona, my first real plant of my own. A sweet little African violet in a shiny white pot, she came back from near-death multiple times after I, with my forgetful little fifth-grade mind, did not water her for weeks and weeks and in one memorable instance, over a month. She's gone now though. I suppose, with a name like that, it was inevitable.

I feel as though it's time to return the white pot onto my desk, with a new tenant. Perhaps after finals are done, I will cycle over to the grocery and pick out a flower.

I'm thinking of a pansy named George.

fairytale scenes

Yesterday we spent most of the morning walking around the UW campus and the University District.

It was beautiful, especially if one chose to ignore the tiny white things buzzing down from the sky and the bitter wind and focused instead on the first crocus (which I didn't get a picture of. It was very purple) and the budding branches and the tiny flowers overhead.

There was a tree completely covered in shoes in front of one of the frats.

The architecture of the campus is beautiful, very inspiring. I won't say much more yet but know that there is a dream in the works.

Yesterday I also cast on for the Cascade beret (rav link) in a cheerful yellow wool that was a birthday gift from my grandmother. There isn't much to show for it yet, but so far I really like the fabric I'm getting and I think that if I concentrate all my efforts on it for the rest of this week I might be able to get it done before finals week (next week! Eeeek!).

This morning I woke up to a winter wonderland. I grabbed my camera and a sweater and spent an hour walking in the crisp morning air.

The light was beautiful, especially immediately after the sunrise.

It's amazing how snow can give even the most mundane things a new life.

One of the things that's lovely about having seven people living in your house? There isn't any leftover soup. I'm off to make some yummy meat pies for our lunch. There's just something about a snow day which makes one yearn for comfort food...

so much has been going on...

...which isn't much of an excuse, I know. But it's true!

There have been some pretty big changes in my life this past year, and it takes some getting used to, so I'm not as on top of things as I would like to be. I'm still struggling to find that happy balance between doing enough and doing so much that I go insane, but I'm getting there... maybe?

I'm sorry to neglect this little space, I'll make it up to you somehow. Most likely by completely revamping the design and the colours and such. Honestly, sometimes I look at the current colour combinations and wonder "What on earth was I thinking?"

This is a short post, but hopefully there will be more [and more frequent!] updates coming soon. There has been a lot going on lately on the fibre-y front as well. I've been playing with texture recently, so you can expect to see that sometime soon, and there are some pretty big plans for the near-and-distant future.

This next week our house is going to be kind of crazy - relatives coming to stay - but hopefully I'll manage to steal away for a few peaceful moments. Who knows, I might even be able to update the blog!

~moongirl~