Whimsical Doorway

This tiny doorway appeared on a day I was determined not to let a chain of minor issues mess with my mood. I had a glorious day off, and I intended to squeeze as much as I could out of it by starting it with a morning yoga class. I arrived at the gym 15 minutes before the class, but I ended up circling the gym for 20 minutes trying to find a parking space.  (Later, I found out that the class I was interested in isn't scheduled to start until 2 weeks later, but I still could have bouldered at the gym.)

Ok, no yoga. Fine. Now, I told myself through clenched teeth, I can try out the boba from Asha Tea House since it's been on my list of "must-do's" for a few months. 20 minutes later, I park 1.5 miles away because I couldn't find a closer parking spot. Ok, no problem. I needed the walk anyway to compensate for the lack of mind-calming yoga, although now I'm feeling weird about walking about town in yoga clothes because I'm a poser.

The boba was as perfect as I anticipated: they use freshly brewed tea, chewy boba boiled with sugar, and none of that non-dairy creamer crap. I had a slow walk back to the car. Only then did I notice that I parked next to a tiny door! 

The moral of this story? I need to ride my bike or take the bus to town.

Down the Pinterest Rabbit Hole

When first told about Pinterest, I didn't get it. I have Ravelry to organize my knitting and crocheting, so what else could I need? I'm clearly not a fashion hound as evidenced by my fabulous Russian red purse + orange-red cardigan + maroon shoe ensemble I wore yesterday (please don't report me to the fashion police), and I'm not much for window shopping. Pinterest just seemed like online window shopping.

But, along comes a house project... Now, I'm hooked! I can collect pictures of room layouts and furniture that work with our place, and instead of sending the boy a string of bookmarks, he can see what I'm talking about on my boards. Cool beans! He even started researching DIY soapstone countertops since that's what I've earmarked to replace our disgusting peach counter tiles. If anyone here has a soapstone counter, please leave me a comment. Is the upkeep is as easy as it is promoted? Sanding out scratches and finishing with mineral oil seems too easy.

I'm wildtomato on Pinterest. I posted a slouch hat that's hot off the needles. Once I get the pattern written up, I'll be on the hunt for more test knitters. And speaking of test knitters, another thank you to my four fabulous test knitters! The Wildcat Canyon Scarf should hopefully be out this weekend. I traded a jar of sauerkraut for some graphic design work, so timelines aren't exactly written in stone.

Have you seen the new Spring Knitty? I am currently in love with Flaming June because those mitered corners are pure genius. Plus, I've come to the conclusion that I really don't wear anything but cardigans. Bay Area weather combined with climate controlled buildings means that layers are a must since I have a teeny, tiny bandwidth of what is an acceptable temperature.

Dimsum Steamer Head

 

I think this is the best knickknack ever! The boy has returned from his business trip, and before he collapsed from exhaustion, he gave me this dimsum head magnet from Din Tai Fung in either Hong Kong or Taiwan. While this still doesn't make up for having to walk Mingus for 10 days, it's a start.

The New Year is creeping up, and since I detest all the listicles going around the web, I'll spare you any type of year end round up or any resolutions (which I never make since I believe in fixing things I want to change right away instead of once a year). However, I do want to finish my neverending afghan. And soon! I have 2 more balls of yarn left, and so far I've crocheted 101 stripes. The picture above is old. Now, when I hold up the afghan, it covers my head, so that makes it just over 5-feet high. Dreary and cold weather, old episodes of Being Human, some episodes of Ice Road Truckers, season 1 of Portlandia (which is so, so Berkeley), Manhattans and martinis, and horrible congestion that is keeping my energy level diminished has made for record breaking crochet marathons. 

Funny, but I don't have anything on the needles. Everything I'm working on requires a hook.

Happy New Year, blogosphere! See you on the other side.

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Yet another thing I said I wouldn't do, but did.

The Last 96 Hours

Friday started off with drizzly skies and wackiness. The boy participated in 24 Hours of LeMons.  Per the website: "Endurance racing for $500 cars. It's not just an oxymoron; it's a breeding ground for morons." That sums it up perfectly. I volunteered to snap photos on track day, the day where all the participants dress up and put on a little show for the judges as they're getting their cars inspected. The boy's team decided to go with their Volvo's Swedish vibe - they were the Swedish Bobsled Team. They started out ringing cowbells in their tracksuits, then they stripped down to spandex for the judges.

The boy stenciled the Swedish flag theme on the spandex, and he also modified the suits with his sewing machine. Creepily, those spandex suits originally covered the whole body: fingers, head (no mouth or eye holes), and feet. I am dreading the types of advertisements that are going to be coming our way now that he had these shipped to our house. He cut the head part off so they could see, a plus for someone driving really fast on a race track.

The cats and dogs stayed home, much to the annoyance of Mingus. You can see his thin, black mustache in this picture. I think it makes him look French.

After reading The Art of Eating In, I have begun to cook more dinners at home. Although I do love going out to eat, so many times the stuff I'm eating is stuff I can make myself, is made from meat and produce from who knows where, and doesn't blow me away. When I do eat at a restaurant that fits my personal food philosophy, that place tends to be more of a special occasion place where dinner should last at least a couple of hours, and it's hard to spare a couple of hours during a weekday.

The boy thought the premise of the book was totally stupid since there are a fair number of Americans who have to eat in daily because they have no other choice if they wish to eat at all. (I should back up a step and say that the book is about a twenty-something woman in NYC who gives up eating restaurant food, including take-out, for 2 years.) But, that book wasn't about that. The author does know that she's coming from a privileged perspective, and her reasons for not eating out were more from an environmental standpoint. The point that stuck with me, though, was that it takes a different rhythm to cook dinner each and every night, but that rhythm can be relaxing once it is internalized. When I thought about our eating out habit, the time it takes us to decide where we are going, drive to said restaurant, wait for the meal, and come back home is really more time than whipping something together and cleaning up.

So, since I had a bit of time this weekend and I had home cooked meals on my mind, I made yet another breakfast custard, this time with leftover bacon grease, green onions, 3 types of mushrooms (crimini, king oyster, and blue oyster mushrooms), and magic cheese. I'll spare you a picture since all the custards look the same. I also made a 4 bean (chickpeas, black lentils, split green peas, split yellow peas) and kale soup, a loaf of bread, and for dessert and future snacking, some coconut mochi cake with a spiked whipped cream. This time, I made the whipped cream with Makers Mark. As I bake more, I'm becoming less dependent on recipes, which in turn means I bake even more. This can become dangerous!

 

Oh, one more thing for those of you who are part of the Knitted Furmiliation forum on Ravelry. Are you interested in a KAL or CAL? If so, pipe in! So far, I think only 1 person has read the thread because the forum hasn't been active in quite some time. I was also toying with the idea of a mystery cat hat KAL...

All is Well

My fears about my neighbors having a hard time this Christmas were mostly quelled. I walked Vespa a little earlier than usual, and was pleasantly surprised to count 9 blow up Christmas things gracing their house. They also had 2 lighted reindeer and festive paper decorations, too.

The only thing strange now is that they run the air compressors for a couple of hours, stop it for a few more hours, and then run it again late at night. Maybe they are trying to conserve energy. If the rain stops tonight, which is highly doubtful, I'll walk Mingus by the house so he can have some Christmas cheer as well.

Oh, but on second thought, Mingus has royally irritated me and perhaps he deserves only a lump of coal. A few days ago, I arrived home from work ready to eat my arm off and grumpy from the unexpected two hour commute. I was starving in one of those "nobody better get in between me and the food" ways. All I had to eat was some leftover lunch from a work cafeteria - it wasn't stellar, but it would do - and a hunk of Acme olive bread. As the food is heating up, I'm looking for the bread. I can't find said bread. However, I found a shredded bread bag on the floor, sans bread. Bad Mingus! I was sad, but at least I had my lunch/dinner to console me. I put the food down and went to wash my hands. When I returned, my dinner was gone! Double bad dog!

The boy later informed me that the bread bag had not only bread, but a hunk of salami in it, and that the bag was previously nestled in his work backpack.

Now, some of you may ask why I blame Mingus instead of Vespa, and the answer is that he is a very bad dog who takes advantage of situations. He once snagged a mouthful of roasted leg of lamb while company was over. Vespa, on the other hand, has never counter surfed. Never.

Plus, Mingus has a special relationship with carbohydrates, and most specifically, bread. Last week, he sniffed out a piece of bread I had wrapped up in my purse, opened my purse, and ate it. Nevermind that I earmarked that bread for him. (The restaurant I went to serves a lot of senior citizens, and the wait staff presumes that all patrons want to take home leftover bread, butter, jams,  etc. I like the idea of not wasting.)

And this is why Mingus's middle name is "Don't Mind If I Do!"

Random Bits

Over the past weekend, I was on my own without a plan in sight, so what did I do? I organized my yarn stash and wound all the sock yarn scraps into balls. Then I laid them out on the table and tried to get them to tell me what they wanted to be, but so far no luck. The colorways are all so different and not at all complimentary to each other. But, I do enjoy looking at them and remembering the projects I made with each one.

That was Random Item #1, which is probably not so random for a crafty blog. Random Item #2 is that I've been watching and watching and watching a pair of French twins, Les Twins, dance on YouTube. (I told you, random!) I'm fascinated by them, and by new style hip hop in general. Perhaps this is a case of being attracted to something that would be impossible for me to do, like being the center in a professional basketball team. YAKfilms has a variety of hip hop dance videos that are oddly compelling.



In on topic news, people have actually been making and buying my Tilden Park Scarf! I don't know at what point I'll feel comfortable calling myself a designer, but this does make me feel one step closer. It's been such a fun process! Many thanks to Rani for being my first customer! That was so cool!

Odd and More Odd

I had quite a scare this morning. I woke up with a jet black tongue. Even though I did take a picture, it's gross, so no visuals of said tongue from me.

It was with the utmost dread that I started doing web searches on what could be wrong. Doing a web search for "black tongue" came up with really bad things. Then, I searched "black tongue pepto bismol." Bingo.

PSA, if you've had any wine, chew a couple of Pepto-Bismol tablets, and then go to bed, you may wake up with a jet black tongue. Before I had the nerve to google what was wrong with me, I showed the boy and it made him scream "Whoa, you need to see a doctor now!", which in turn made Vespa come over and start licking his face. Who needs coffee on a morning like this?

The worst part of my newly black tongue is that it could last for a few days. Seriously? Am I not supposed to open my mouth in the next few days? I look like a lizard mutant.

The more odd piece of news I have is Rear Gear. Yes! A "Mr. Brown Eye" cover for pets! I'm somewhat tempted to crochet something like this for Mingus or the cats, but then I think about the logistics (will I have to wash it after each use? who wants to wash that?) and I decide against it. But if you're feeling saucy, you should craft one up, put it on your pet, and then send me a pic!

My Cats Don't Need Ponchos

Right? Cats don't need or want to wear ponchos. An image of little red Greaseballhood just flashed through my mind, and it is all consuming. Talk me out of this!

Mingus, however, rocks the poncho. He doesn't care that ponchos are soooo last decade.

My Life, Out of Order

If my life were in order, that would be a first!

Since I have come to the sad conclusion that I'll never write a quarter of the blog posts I have in my head, here are some pictures explaining why this blog has been so silent.

We took the dogs backpacking at Snow Mountain. They like to leave us in the dust, quite literally.

Mingus usually take the time to sing us some blues.


And Vespa adds a little punk rock ditty to the mix.


I'll backpack for miles to a picturesque spot, only so I can sit on a tree and stare at my hands for a few hours. Hey, I like to sit and knit in nature!


We escaped to Pismo Beach for a few days to soak in some sand and sun time.


I experimented with figs after I was tired of popping them fresh into my mouth. This dish was chicken thighs braised with balsamic vinegar, red wine, and figs. It was so good!


We stayed in Nevada for a Halloween wedding and to explore. Here's the cutest wedding cake ever!

This is a little bit of Virginia City, which has preserved its Wild West roots. We stayed in a "haunted" hotel here. Want to know what is more annoying than ghosts? Ghost hunters! There was no insulation in this place, so we could hear the ghost hunters setting up equipment to catch whatever it was they try to catch and whispering whatever it is they think is cool to each other.



I observed my friends racing their Miata, and crossed my fingers that my other friends and the boy wouldn't go up in flames as they pit crewed. I had the oh so important job of changing the helmet cards and yelling, "1 MINUTE LEFT!"


New bike!

And here is some unexpectedly good road food in a little town between Williams and Clearlake. We had a hearty posole and one of the best fried fishes I've had since Mexico. I *heart* California and its unexpectedly good road food.

I've been busy gift knitting, too. But I can't show you any of those, so you'll just have to trust me.

I've been running, too. For those of you keeping track, I'm up to week 6 on the Couch to 5K program. Vespa and Mingus are on week 6, also.

What a dork!

Can you guess who this is? He even copied my format. Methinks someone has a little too much time to kill.

Spindles and Gears

Got a bike question? Leave him a comment and he'll answer it!

Wrenchy is another creative type whose focus is mechanical design. He's a regular DIYer with an artsy tilt, when the muse strikes (that would be me). Enjoy!

Dude! Duuuude! DUDE!

G: Dude, Fifty! This nip is wicked wild. Where did you score it?


F: Dude, Greaseball! The boy brings it to us. He grows it!


G&F: Duuuuude, we see dead people!


F: Dude! I'm a panther!

Taste of the Wild

That's the name of the cats' food o' the month. (No, that is not a cat standing next to the bag. Vespa thought that the food smelled dandy and she was willing to be a taste tester for it. Sadly for her, I did not take her up on her offer.)

The picture on the bag, however, almost made me not buy it. I had to be convinced that it was a quality food by the store owner's testimonial that it was good stuff and that she feeds it to her own cats. I read the ingredients myself, and decided that it was worthy of at least a try. This graphic, however, is over the top ridiculous.


I mean, come on! My cats are domestic cats who wear hats. They enjoy sofas, beds, and being served. If they were out in the wilderness, they'd be food! I have no false ideas about my cats being mighty hunters, free spirits, or rugged, outdoor creatures.

My #1 camera is out of batteries, so I switched back to my #2. It's funny what I found on the memory card. This is a picture of the boy and I in a most romantic setting. We look a little wacky on the junk.

I also found numerous pictures of me looking a little, um, compromised. These pictures do nothing for my fear that as the main photographer in the household, after I'm long gone people will only have funny/odd/bad pictures of me to remember me by because the boy usually only takes pictures when he deems the opportunity funny/odd/bad. Feh!

Two eggplants walked into a bar

One wanted to be Thai, and the other one wanted to be a tomato.

The end.

I will never be bored

When I was a child, I was constantly bored. In fact, I bugged my parents about it so much that I was forbidden to mention the "B word." If I slipped up and started to utter, "Mom, I'm bor-", my mother would dole out one awful chore after another that could be done around the house to stop my boredom. Yeah, lots of fun that was.

I do not get people who wistfully yearn for their younger years, because being an adult is absolutely fabulous. I can't even remember the last time I complained to anyone about being bored! Even if I'm stuck at home, I can pick up my camera, or I can knit, or cook something, or go for a hike, or poke a dog. When I pointed this out to one of the parental units that my annoying childhood whining would have been prevented by an allowance, more pets, and the freedom to buy whatever materials I wanted and do whatever I wanted, I got no sympathy.

So, these pictures are what I did recently to prevent boredom.

I bugged the cats and took blurry pictures of them while making clucking noises in an effort to get both of them to look at the camera.


The boy planted more seeds and we harvested our second salad of the summer (SSS). I spent a long time on the deck trying to figure out what he planted since he didn't label anything. It's okay because I like surprises.


My hoya carnosa's blooms fell off, and I decorated my handspun with them.


I spent a lot of time staring and taking pictures of our carniverous plant. I think the boy fed it some Korean bbq, or at least that what he claims when asked why this plant is suddenly thriving.


I knit a chemo cap for my MIL. Sadly, the last of her hair fell out yesterday and she doesn't recognise herself anymore. I'll be knitting many more caps, as will some of my friends (thanks again, you are all wonderful). F*ck breast cancer.

Blue

Blueberry coffee cake:


Blue Mingus:

Blue Fetchings:

Hakuna matata, zucchini fritatta!

Another yarn free, dog free interlude

The weather in the Bay Area has been blissful - not too hot (one could argue that it never gets hot where I live), not too cold, but just right. The sunsets have also been amazing.

On a clear day, I can see the Golden Gate Bridge from our house - it is just to the left in the first picture. Alas, its too dark in these pictures to see anything but the painted sky. I wish all these poles and wires would go away so I could see the bay unobstructed, but that's the price of modern living.

New sock accessories

I can't decide if these scream "there's no place like home" or "you deserve a break today." Regardless, here are the new sock vehicles.

My Weekend, by Vespa

Last weekend, we went to my grandparents' house. I go there to practice my skills. My first task was to earn my sea legs. As you can see, it's hard to balance on a moving boat!


I decided to stop trying, and to just chill out and enjoy the scenery.


I asked if they would let me drive the boat. They said I couldn't because I am a minor. I was so humiliated!

Mingus spent the majority of his time with my grandfather. My grandfather was educating Mingus on the different types of birds and weeds in the lake. Somehow, I don't think Mingus remembers any of his ecology lesson, but we all know that Mingus is a dork and he'll pretend to do anything as long as he gets lots of attention.

After the boat ride, it was time to practice my disc golfing skills. Mom says that I am a natural.


Ha! She doesn't say the same thing about Mingus. Well, maybe she would if he would just open his eyes when she throws him the disc. What a dork!


After my disc golfing lesson, I had to practice my "get Mingus" skills. I am constantly looking for new techniques to more effectively get Mingus. If you have any tips on this, feel free to email my mom or leave a comment.



Oh, my mom wants me to mention that she finished knitting a washcloth. Ho hum, how boring. What am I supposed to do with this?


I hope everyone else had a great weekend!

Signing off,
Vespa