(Most) Pictures Are Worth A Thousand Words

... except for these photos.


If these photos were to speak a thousand words each about the progress I'm making on my Adult Sized Underwater-Turned-Autumn-Leaves Afghan (my made up name- can you tell?), those words would mostly be ums and ers:

Um.... yeah:



Er... yeah!:


Um, er, yeah-- what she said:

First of all, it's hard for me to do justice to the blanket-in-progress just by lying it on my apartment carpet and snapping some pictures. I accept this (sort of). The shadow from our patio door doesn't help, nor does the fact that the carpet tugs on the wool a bit and makes the afghan edges look weirdly uneven and slovenly. I promise you I am not that sloppy a knitter. Ah, well-- these pictures are all I've got for the time being, so let's use our imaginations and fantasize about what a perfect blanket this will eventually be.

These are the first four strips out of 12 or 15 that will comprise the finished afghan. Once all of the strips have been made and sewn together, a border will also be knit and will of course look fabulous (can I get a witness?). Right now, if I were to lie down beside this blanket, it would be a foot and a half taller than me, and I'm 5'8". I think it will make a decent queen-sized afghan when it's all said and done, but first of all, I've got to get me through another 8 or 11 strips of nothing but garter stitch! Huzzah for mindless knitting!

Apparently, I Never Learn

I mentioned a few posts ago that I have been a bad blogger and knitter as of late, due to an unfortunate case of bilateral tendonitis. It seems that everything I really enjoy doing involves repetitive movements of my hands, arms, and wrists, and geez-- even if I can't get enough knitting, my body sure can. Well, I've been remedying the situation by seeing an excellent acupuncturist. After 3 measly (and intensely relaxing) sessions, I was able to resume many of the activities I missed doing-- knitting being the most important one.

Well, seeing as I regained the use of my arms so easily and holistically, I decided that it was high time for me to undertake a project I've wanted to knit for a very long time: an entire damn knitted blanket! The original pattern is for a baby blanket in an "Underwater" colour theme, but with some fudged mathematical equations (i.e.: Baby blanket x 3ish for length x 3ish for width= Big Blanket), and a fancy for the shades of autumn leaves, I am adapting the project to be big enough for Marty and I.

Well, I have made it through the first strip of the pattern and part of the second one (photos to be added later-- Marty must have taken the camera on his bike ride this morning). Already, it has become apparent that I am a complete and utter fool. The nagging soreness in my arms has returned, and if my poor wrists could talk, they would strongly tsk-tsk me, I'm sure of it. Their lecture would be something along the lines of: "I know that you're excited to start knitting again, but really-- would it maybe be sufficient to knit a pair of mittens instead of knitting 500 rows of blanket and weaving in the ends all in one sitting??" Heh. When you put it that way...

I will have to return to my sweet (and hopefully understanding) acupuncturist this Friday to start the healing process all over again. It's OK, though-- I completely enjoy the feeling of the needles in my forearms (and sometimes my feet and ears!), and it's even better when she does some roving cupping on my back and shoulder muscles-- I don't even mind the resulting (huge, dark, questionable-looking) hickeys that linger for nearly a week afterward...

Checking In

Well, I've officially learned that I find it much easier to blog when I am bitching and moaning about something. I've had it pretty good for the last month and a bit, so lo and behold-- the blog, she suffered. I've had nothing to complain about, really-- my job is going very well (I love counting money!), Marty's paintings have started selling by the dozen here in Victoria (finally!), I've been meeting lots of great people who are inspiring me to write (though not to blog, apparently), and guess who I get to see this weekend?



Lil-Star!! I haven't seen her in the flesh since she was a 'hefty' six pounds and a month old! Now she's god-knows-how-many-pounds and just celebrated her 8 month birthday! So this weekend I get a whole blissful day in Calgary/Canmore and then it's back to counting money in Victoria. I CAN'T WAIT!!


If this is not inspiration to knit, I don't know WHAT is! My sister says that Lily likes the Lil Devil Hat because she can pull the straps down over her eyes and sneak in naps clandestinely. Right... so inconspicuous! (But SO CUTE!!!)

A Beautiful Day in the 'Hood

The forecast called for rain and cloud this past weekend, but it turned out that Marty's parents were right when they said of the meteorologists : "they be always lying". Guilty as charged.


This weekend has been a bit windy in Victoria, but the sun has been blazing and we've managed to get a lot accomplished. We hung out at a local coffee shop and then moved our relaxin' asses over to the oceanfront to take in some beautiful scenery:



Here, we were voted by some random guy as the "two people with the best T-shirts on the beach". (Marty was wearing the classic Take A Hike shirt from Threadless. Not to be outdone by a subtle bird design, I was sporting a more garish weeping Virgin Mary on my chest. We're not sure if this is a daily, weekly, monthly, or annual award... nonetheless, we were honoured to have been given the day's nod.)


I finished knitting a(nother) sock for Marty. This time around, the wool is from a local yarn shop, so if I happen to run out near the end of the second sock like I did last time, I don't have to boot it to Eastern Europe, though a little vacation would be nice... I swear, the 'ex' in Ex-Nomad gets fainter and fainter every day!


I was hoping to try out the famous Jaywalker sock pattern this time around, but Marty loves his Thujas. If I ever get around to knitting myself some socks, you can bet they'll be Jaywalkers. But beware: it may just be a snowy day in hell before I ever knit myself something. What can I say? Marty is probably the most excited and appreciative recipient of knitted items on the planet-- I must be addicted to his gleeful exclamations and proud flaunting of the socks once they're done.

Anyway, back to my Grade 4 diary style recounting of our weekend... Both Marty and I had a hankering for pancakes. So we did the unthinkable... we went to Smitty's!! I think I must've been to Smitty's at least once before in my lifetime (though memories of my mom and dad cooking up homemade pancakes and waffles almost every Sunday after church make me hesitant to say this is true). In any case, if I ever did happen to eat at Smitty's before, I would have been about six years old, and hence I would have neglected to remember crucial details like the fact that the pancakes there are gross!!! Seriously, Marty and I are used to eating our pancakes from the illustrious Diner Deluxe in Calgary, so Smitty's was a serious (and expensive!) let-down. Dry like cardboard (no butter!), and the fruit on top was one of those nasty artificially-enhanced things. Sick. That was the worst $30 I've ever spent on breakfast. Ever.



As you can see, my expression is one of those 'well, we're already $30 in the hole on nasty pancakes... might as well pretend to enjoy them' ones. The forced smile does a bad job of masking my pain and disappointment. Never again.

A Day in the Life of Dana L.

So I've been wracked with guilt for being MIA in blogland (or, as a former schoolmate used to call it, 'the blogosphere'... blech! Some things are best left un-academicized... though I suppose 'un-academicized' is as much of a made-up schoolish word as blogosphere. Nevermind, then.)

I'd like to say that I've been consumed with incredibly interesting adventures in between my intermittent posts, but unfortunately, things have been pretty much same old since I started working. You know: eating, sleeping, working, catching playoff hockey, and watching harbour seals. That kind of stuff. Plain old, boring, everyday seal watching.



I've also been knitting, though. Back in January, I promised my dear husband that I would knit him a sweater for his birthday. We borrowed some books from the library so he could pick out the perfect pattern. Then we went to the *cough* incredible local yarn store so he could pick out the perfect yarn. Since then, I've been knitting and knitting. Hopefully, the sweater will be ready in time for his birthday next January! (Slow and steady wins the race, right?)

This whole process has enlightened me about one of the key differences between Marty and I. He's much more aware of his likes and dislikes than I am, and he's also much more able to articulate them to others (whereas I often leave things unspoken, for fear of offending, bothering, or otherwise putting off somebody else. Stupid gender socialization.) This sweater situation is a prime example. Had Marty offered to knit me a sweater, I would probably have picked something plain and simple-- something not too intricate or difficult to knit, especially for a first-time-sweater-knitter (which, by the way, I am). Marty, however, went straight for the cabled fishermen's patterns. He also opted for a button-up sweater instead of a pullover, which means I have to learn how to make buttonholes! And oh yeah, he wondered if I could alter the v-neck pattern to a regular crewneck style. And could the sweater and sleeves be longer? 'Sure, honey! Anything for my sweet love.'





Well, I have to say that ultimately, I'm glad he chose the sweater he did. I'm learning many mad knitting skillz as I go along (lattices 4-eva', yo!), and every successful row feels like a significant accomplishment on my end. Plus, I figure that by getting him to buy into every little detail of this sweater, I'll be able to avoid the dreaded Sweater Curse. (Granted, Marty and I are already married, and the curse normally applies to unwedded significant others, but still... I would hate to knit a whole cabled sweater and have him not like the fit/style/wool/colour/whatever else.) This way, if anything goes wrong with the sweater, it won't be my fault. After all, he was the one who picked the pattern, the wool, the specific length, the buttons, the crewneck (when I get there), and everything else. I'm just the knitter in this situation. Don't shoot the knitter. Everyone knows that.

Knitting Content: Sock Anxiety

So I finally started knitting Marty a pair of socks using the beautiful sock yarn we bought (for less than $2!) in a Czech spa town. I'm following the Thuja pattern from Knitty using a nameless colorway of Sockenwolle Unipo and so far, they're going great, except for one small detail:


I don't know if I'm going to have enough wool to finish two socks! GAH!!!!!


I know that one of the cardinal rules of knitting is to always purchase enough yarn of the same dye lot to complete a project, but to my defense, it says right on the label of this wool that 100g/420m should be enough to knit a pair of socks in a size 46. Marty is only a size 44 (U.S. 11) and it's not like I'm knitting him thigh highs or anything... (though it makes me giggle to think of knitting a grown man a pair of schoolgirl socks. I'd need to get him a garter belt to hold them up!)


A website was listed on the skein of Unipo, so I looked it up, thinking I might be able to find an extra skein and have it shipped here. (Desperate, I know.) Alas, even with my (very) limited grasp of the Czech language, I was able to discern that Sockenwolle Unipo has since been replaced with something called Sportivo, and Sportivo doesn't come in the luscious colorway I already have. Sigh... I even tried googling Unipo wool, and though I found an international craft and culture swappy thing that I think I might join, I was out of luck in the Unipo department. (The one woman from Slovakia who was known to swap Unipo for North American stuff has put swapping on hold for the time being. NOOOOOOOO!!!!) Hence, I bought a skein of Phildar Preface from a small LYS in a matching brown to knit the toes in, but what do you think? Should 420 m of wool be enough to knit a man's pair of socks?


If worse comes to worse, I guess I could frog the whole first sock back and knit the top ribbing, the heel flap, and the toes in the matching Phildar wool to save the good Unipo stuff, but honestly, the thought of ripping back an almost finished sock in thin sock wool on tiny needles is too much for me right now. Besides, if I'm going to have enough Unipo anyway, I'd rather not rip back a perfectly good first sock.



What's the consensus on this one?
Option 1: Try to knit two socks (top-down) in Unipo
Option 2: Try to knit two socks in Unipo with Phildar toes
Option 3: Frog back first sock and knit both with Phildar top ribbing, heel flap, and toes
Option 4: Catch an emergency flight to Karlovy Vary, locate random (and nameless!) tiny yarn store on the main strip, and hope to God they still sell last-season colorways of a discontinued yarn.


Hmm... how many airmiles do you think it takes to get to CZ?

The Latest on Lily

After weathering a(nother) power outage, I'm back with another update on our little PeaPod!


My sister was discharged from the hospital in Great Falls and was flown back to Calgary last night with little Lily in an incubator. Lily will still need some time in the hospital to grow bigger and stronger, but luckily her level of care has been downgraded from intensive to just regular preemie care (I'm sure there's a technical name for her level of care, but obviously I don't know what it is!).


We are so thankful to everybody who has offered their support during this whole ordeal. A special thanks goes out to all of the people who are getting involved in knitting the PeaPod Collection at Make One Yarn Studio (it sounds so exclusive and designer!). It just warms my heart to know that so many people will be helping my sister and her partner get a good start at being parents. This means so much to me and my family. Thank you.

What a Difference a Day Makes

(Follow this link and listen to the song while you read the post!)

This weekend proved to be different than most.

I mentioned a few posts ago that I was going to be a first-time aunt in April. Well, PeaPod (as my sister’s in utero baby is affectionately known) decided that it would be better if I became an aunt right. now. My sister’s water broke on Friday evening—two and a half full months before her due date—and what followed was a laundry list from anybody’s worst nightmare.

My sister’s pregnancy is considered high risk, because she is at a higher risk for blood clots than the ordinary pregnant woman (we can thank Ortho Jansen and her brand of birth control pills for that). She needs special care in the delivery room, mainly to make sure she doesn’t bleed too much from her blood-thinning injections during birth. Anyway, it turned out that the special care she needed wasn’t available in Calgary when the water broke. Unfortunately, it also wasn’t available in Edmonton, Regina, Saskatoon, Vancouver, or Victoria. Hence, she had to be flown via air ambulance to the nearest hospital with the appropriate facilities—in Great Falls, Montana. Montana!!

My sister’s partner was ready to make the journey with her, but he was denied the opportunity because he doesn’t have a passport. (New US border laws require anybody flying across to carry a passport.) So. She made the flight by herself, scared nearly to death, while her partner made plans to drive to Montana the next day.

She landed safe and sound, and so far, it looks like her and PeaPod are doing OK. Her labour will have to be induced by the end of this week, and after she gives birth, she will probably need to stay in the hospital until PeaPod is strong and healthy enough to make the flight home. This means that she can expect to stay in the hospital until her regular due date—April 14—at a minimum. I don’t care who you are—that’s a long time to spend in a hospital, and it’s a long time to be away from your friends and family, too.

I’m grateful that a system is in place to get women who go into labour prematurely the medical care they require, even if it means transporting them to another hospital. However, my heart breaks when I hear how scared and alone my sister feels. My mother is with her now, but my sister’s partner, friends, and the rest of her family will only be able to make weekend trips to be with her, if that.

I spent the weekend knitting my first ever preemie caps and a log cabin preemie blanket to send with my sister’s partner on his next trip down. In the meantime, I’d appreciate any and all of the support you can offer. I trust that this situation will have a positive outcome for everybody involved, but it’s a bit frightening for the time being.

How to Help Out:

• Keep my sister and PeaPod in your thoughts and prayers (thanks so much to everyone who is already doing this!)
• Consider using your soft scrap yarn for preemie caps and/or blankets. Most hospitals accept donations of knitted items on an ongoing basis. This site has some basic instructions and sizing guidelines for caps. Basically, caps should be knit to fit an orange or your clenched fist.
• For the results-oriented, instant-gratification types out there, contact me to arrange cash donations for gas money, hotel costs, and other expenses in Great Falls, Montana. Money is tight for expectant couples of all sorts, and this case is no exception.

Two's a Charm

Well, I’m happy to announce that the universe takes care of its young! A mere 1.5 days after I kinda bombed a certain job interview question, I was in another interview— this time for a position I was more interested in— answering the same question like a downright natural. A natural, I tell you! Thanks for all of your input, and bonus points to Mama Tangerine for her woolly sheep answer (see comments). Anything that can bring farm animals into a job interview setting is an instant classic, if you ask me. It reminds me of that time back in Computer Science class when my friend dared me to ask the prof if our resumé assignment had to be typed. Instant. Classic.


So, after two job interviews in one week, I’m feeling a little exhausted. Having to be ‘on’ (and preparing to be ‘on’) can really take a lot out of a girl! That must mean it’s time for a movie and some feel-good knitting.


Everything about this scarf-in-progress makes me feel good: the colour, the mindless but pretty lace repeats, and the fact that it’s from a charity pattern. When I make it again (and you know I will), it will be thinner and shorter, but this one will be perfect as a cover for my meditation table. Blissful, peaceful sighs all around!

And then there's my latest e-bay purchase to get the creative juices flowing: a 60s hat pattern book!



This pattern really blows my skirt up: (as does the top left cover shot of the sequined lamp shade hat... does that mean I'm strange?)



This one, not so much:



Though I'm sure a spaghetti beret does it for some people... (and as a side note, doesn't the bottom model look like Bree from Desperate Housewives?) Well, take care for now, dear readers. I'll be back again tomorrow with a birthday post for Kathy and Marty!

Return of the Killer Alarm Clock

Hello, dear readers, and welcome to this week’s (belated) Monday edition! As it usually goes with Mondays, I had grand ambitions to get the week off to a wonderful start. I set an alarm to wake me up nice and early-ish (8 am) yesterday, and I planned to start applying for jobs as soon as I could turn the computer on. Well… it didn’t happen that way at all. In fact, pretty much everything I had planned for was disrupted in one way or another, for better or worse.

To illustrate:

The Plan: To wake up nice and early-ish (8 am)

What Actually Happened: I was woken up at the ungodly hour of 6 am by the worst thing of all: the upstairs neighbours’ alarm clock. This isn’t the first time this has happened here in Victoria, and it’s also a phenomenon that, for whatever reason, has dogged Marty and I in our last three apartments! It’s never just a couple of beeps, either. Oh no. We have been plagued with neighbours who use perma-beep alarm clocks but never wake up to turn them off. They just go on and on and on… I’m usually awake by the third or fourth ring, and then I lie awake and listen to the beeps for hours. Literally. Are we the only people in the world who know proper alarm clock etiquette? Surely, dear readers, you can pass Alarm Clock Etiquette 101 with flying colors. A quick quiz will help confirm this:

1. Does your alarm clock wake up:

a. You

b. Your neighbours

2. When your alarm clock rings, are you:

a. Home to turn it off

b. Somewhere else entirely?

3. Does your alarm clock:

a. Ring for a maximum of one minute before shutting itself off

b. Ring until somebody manually turns it off, even if that means it rings for a whole morning

Hmm… seems pretty simple to me, but apparently many people find the act of turning off an alarm clock too difficult to handle. But I digress…

The Plan: To start applying for jobs as soon as I turned the computer on

What Actually Happened: Nothing of the sort. Instead, we cleaned our apartment, I knit a couple of toques, and I wove in the last ends of the end-ridden top secret blanket I’ve been knitting. Marty has always wanted a flat-top toque, and I finally found a pattern that would make it happen.






The Third Eye Chullo pattern comes from the Knit Wit book, and I used Patons Classic Wool for the grey one and Lang Tosca for the striped one. (Forgive the random hat-on-a-lamp shots... Marty went to work today before I remembered to take some pictures!) Maybe the third eye can wield off any unwanted alarm clock advances in the future… or better yet, land me a job!

Newly Weds and Newly... (hint: It rhymes with 'reds'!)

When I first told people that we would be moving to Victoria, I got more than a few mentions of the city’s notorious senior population. ‘What will you do there?’, I was asked, as though the whole city would suddenly shut down at 5 pm, just in time for everyone to watch the evening news or Jeopardy. I wasn’t familiar with the city back then, so I just reassured whomever I was talking to at the time that I was sure there were many things I could find to do for fun. In the back of my mind, though, I secretly hoped it wouldn’t end up being checkers in the apartment lobby or something like that.

Arriving to this beautiful city, I was impressed with the quaint little shops and the abundance of breathtaking scenery, but I was more than a little dismayed that I couldn’t find a Knit Club anywhere. (OK, aside from the $10 drop in at the Beehive. That totally doesn’t count.) Checkers began to seem like more and more of a likely (and even appealing) prospect for my Friday evenings… that is, until two nights ago.

I am happy to announce that I met with the wonderful Crafty Bird a few nights ago and took the first step to co-forming Victoria’s very own small knitting circle! Sure, it wasn’t 20-odd people crammed into a Kensington teahouse, ranting about something or other, but it was glorious and inspiring nonetheless. The Bird and I have lots to talk about, so it looks like we’ll be able to make our knitting nights a fairly regular thing. Hooray!

A Rooster by any other name...

Scanning over my previous posts, I came to the startling realization that I might have created the impression that my knitting collection only consists of a tacky hot pink apron… Allow me to clarify. I would never, in a million years, want to be known only as the woman with the hot pink apron! (That, or as a bag lady. Or a cat lady.)

Since showing up at my first ever KnitClub meeting, knitting a plain old dishcloth in plain old Bernat Cotton yarn (and feeling horrifically silly, I might add), my knitting has improved in leaps and bounds. I’m still a bit on the inexperienced side when it comes to things like sweaters and Fair Isle (my way too big and tent-ish Tubey sweater can attest to that), but overall, I can say with some degree of confidence that my knitting doesn’t suck.

One of my good friends celebrated her birthday a few days ago, so I suppose it’s only fitting that in my knitting defense, I feature some of my gift knitting for her in today’s post.

My friend has the sweetest one-year-old baby boy. On one of our altogether infrequent visits together, we went to return some cutesy farm animal wall hangings that she had decided not to put up in his room. Her boy may be only one year old, but he’s no baby! Anyway, when I happened across the patterns for Chinese Zodiac symbols in Knitty, I thought it would be perfect to knit up his zodiac symbol—Rooster—and felt it into a wall hanging. It would be sophisticated and symbolic, and it would be reflective of their cultural heritage. That was the plan, anyway…

I quickly knit up the Rooster symbol and felted it up.

Just when I was getting ready to mail it, though, an alarming thought crossed my mind: was I sure that this was the Chinese symbol for Rooster? Flashes of Britney Spears tattooing herself with the Chinese symbol for 'strange' when she really wanted 'mysterious' crossed my mind... I didn't want to end up delivering the equivalent of gibberish to this special child. (Nor did I want to have any more connections to B. Spears-- it's bad enough that we were born in the same year! Oh, who am I kidding? I'm a Slave 4 Britney!)

Well, it was a good thing I checked. The Knitty pattern featured the Japanese symbols for the Chinese zodiac signs. No good.

I went back to the internet, found the appropriate Chinese symbol, graphed it out and knitted it up.

Lesson learned: When you’re trying to be meaningful and symbolic, it’s best to make sure you’re representing the right culture… (Or you can tattoo yourself with Kabbalah symbols backwards... but who am I to judge?)

Anyway, my friend’s boy now has his sophisticated and actually symbolic wall hanging above his crib, and I’ve got the leftover one in my meditation corner (Luckily, I happen to be a Rooster, too!) When I get back from Calgary, I’ll post some other non-hot-pink knitting projects. I promise there’s more than one…

Smackdown Play-by-Play

Oh, it was a long fight, with many punches thrown. Standing in one corner like the Oscar de la Hoya of yarn stores, Make One looked cool, young, sleek, and put together. When the hulking Hogan of yarn stores threw off her cape in the other corner of the ring, though, did I detect a bit of nervousness from Make One? I couldn’t be sure.

The fight started off all flashy: the Beehive grunted and posed, showing off her substantial yarn offerings, which were packed into her costume like falsies into a Wonderbra. Everywhere you looked was yarn, yarn, yarn. Stacked floor to ceiling! Thwack! Hanging from the rafters! Ka-boom! Displayed absolutely everywhere, to the point where there was little room left to breathe! Thuga-thuga-thug!

Undeterred, Make One calmly stepped forward, narrowly avoiding a plastic chair swipe to the head. ‘Would you like a tea?’ she teased, with a sparkle in her eye. ‘Or how about a place to sit down and relax?’ Biff! Boff! Down went the Beehive to the floor! Dancing around a bit, Make One delighted that she had won the first round: everybody loves a plush couch to sit on, especially in a yarn store! How clever!

Slightly shaken, but determined to continue flaunting her might, Beehive stood up again and held her gloves up—ready for the next round. ‘Look at my prices!’, she bellowed, and dangled some luscious Cascade 220 in Make One’s face. ‘And these are my regular prices’, she sneered, ‘Not some flash in the pan sale’. Ka-chuck! Ratta-tat! Bikkidi-bikkidi-blammo! Make One looked upset for a brief moment, and staggered back into the ropes, but then she hammered back with her Boxing Week sale. ‘You call 10 percent off acrylic yarn a Boxing Day Sale?’, she bellowed. ‘Take that!’ 70 percent off luscious yarns! 50 percent off other luscious yarns! 40! 30! At least 20 percent off all other yarns! Bang! Boom! Brawl! Round Two: Make One. Ding!

And so it continued: Beehive would pummel and pound Make One with her impressive array of colours and textures, but Make One would rebound and then one-up her much older opponent. Make One would dodge and divert, looking more like a clever strategist than a beefed-up combatant, while Beehive would attempt to make her put her dukes up and fight, already! Back and forth, back and forth—until the final round.

I saw a button that I really liked yesterday at the Beehive. It was about the size of a 2 dollar coin, and it featured an owl set against a beautiful night sky scene. Oooooh, I breathed. What a beautiful button! Ready to end this fight for good and to slowly shift my allegiances to my new local yarn store, I stood in line to pay for this button (a recent Visa bill deterred me from purchasing anything else…) My precious, I hissed—captivated by this treasure. I waited, and I waited, and then I pondered what sort of project I would put this on. A felted bag? A front clasp for the Fantine cardigan? It would have to be something remarkable, something special, something that would show this button off like nothing else…

Then it finally came time for me to pay. ‘That will be$23.67’ said the cashier. Pardon me??!!! For a button??!!!! At that price, I’d have to fasten it to the robe of God, for chrissakes!!

Well, I left empty-handed but certain of one thing: Make One—nothing compares 2 U. I’ll probably still visit the Beehive in case of future yarn emergencies… but it will be like visiting a packrat relative over an uber-cool friend. Le sigh. SMACKDOWN!!

LYS Smackdown!!

Don’t miss the action as two local yarn stores go head to head!



In one corner, we have the reigning undisputed champ: Make One Yarn Studio in Calgary. Luscious yarns, amazing staff, creative events, free shipping, drop-in knitting circles, a funky interior, and sales that give me the cramps (in a good way)—folks, this yarn store seems to have it all, and it’s hard to believe it’s still only in its rookie year!


In the other corner, we have the challenger: Beehive Wool Shop in Victoria. Equally luscious yarns, a hip location right in the downtown core, and inexpensive Cascade 220 mean it could stand a fighting chance against Make One. But the Beehive is celebrating 100 years as a store in 2006… and it also sells shudderific Disco yarn by the bag—does it really have what it takes to sock a few punches to Make One?


Part of me hopes that we have the Rocky Balboa of yarn stores here in Victoria, given that I now live here. (Note: I have yet to see the final installment of the series, or even about 3 of the original movies, but I’m assuming that Rocky wins. Would Sly really have it any other way? I doubt it—what kind of message would that send to the kids? “Try hard and fail anyway.” But I digress…) I’d like it if I, too, had a hip local yarn store to patron—somewhere where I could lovingly fondle the wools instead of foaming at the mouth over tantalizing photos of them… Too. Far. Away.


Another part of me, though, is very reluctant to even consider the possibility of shifting allegiances (even though I did, for the record, set aside 15 years of grudging to jump on the Flames bandwagon when they finally stopped sucking so much! Then I cheered for the Oilers when the Flames bombed out of the first round in the 2006 playoffs… This year, I'm pretending that I didn't cheer for either of them-- I'm waiting to see my new bandwagon come the playoffs). I love pretty much everything about Make One, and I’m more than a little unnerved to read things like this on the Beehive website… le sigh.

Project Time "Drop-in"
5:00-7:00 pm - Fridays
$10.00 drop-in fee per session


Ten dollars??!!!!! That better come with a cheesecake or something...


Anyway, the Beehive is having a Boxing Day Sale today, so I’m going to go check it out for the first time. Will Make One continue to flatten its competition, or can the Beehive muster up enough oomph in its hundred-year-old self to lay the smack down? Get out some popcorn and put on your sweaty spandex shorts—this is gonna be one helluva fight!

Desperate Housewife

For the first few weeks here in Victoria, I was feeling like I could conquer anything as the Mighty Matron of Meals. Over the past couple of days, though, I was struck with the unnerving sensation that, well, something might be missing. Could it be because we came here with only the bare essentials, not even enough to stock our kitchen? Could it be that I was jealous of other kitchen queens who had things like these? (Not to mention other things like plates… those are still in storage in Calgary!) No, I mulled it over for a bit and decided that even though I do miss our salad spinner and our crock pot, I’m still managing alright without them. Also, even though some mornings it does seem a tad strange to eat our toast out of a bowl, it doesn’t make a difference to how the toast tastes, so why should I let it bother me? My anxious feelings, it seemed, could only be attributed to one thing: my lack of an appropriate Kitchen Costume.

If you look at ads for 1950s kitchen gadgets— or almost any ad from the 1950s, for that matter—you’ll notice that the Woman of the House is always looking charming in a costume befitting the circumstances. She has the picnic basket and sundress for her spontaneous (if rare) outings with the girls, the pearl earrings for dinner with her husband’s boss, and most importantly, the ubiquitous apron for her time spent indoors. I decided early on in this game that if I was going to be a housewife, I might as well be one of the best (you know me, not competitive at all...) Hence, being without an apron but with the company of a great lot of mystery yarn, I took matters into my own hands.

And… Voila! I am pleased to introduce my very own Kitchen Costume! (you'll have to look above, seeing as I've yet to figure out how to upload pictures except at the top of posts...)

Knit in glorious garter stitch on very big needles with clearance mystery 'yarn'/fabric strips, this apron might never actually be worn except in this photo shoot, but believe me, it fills a gaping psychological void in the life of this no-longer-desperate housewife.