NH Sheep and Wool Festival!

For Mother's Day, my boys took me to the New Hampshire Sheep and Wool Festival. Good sports all, they were very patient with me as I coveted the yarns. So much selection! And there were so many spinners out--when I have just a little more time, I must learn how to do that! It looks like so much fun.

I managed to avoid temptation--I bought not a single skein of yarn! But I came home laden with business cards and brochures. I just can't make decisions on the fly like that--I know that I'll either buy nothing at all, or buy everything in sight. So, to spare my pocketbook, I decided to take the cards and brochures and decide later.

But the boys loved the animals! Who can resist a freshly shorn sheep? And the alpacas! Why, they look like something out of Dr. Seuss when they're freshly shorn.



We watched a few rounds of competition with the border collies and sheep, delighted in a homemade apple crisp, and jumped for joy when Aidan finally lost that wiggly front tooth! He was so proud. One more wiggly front one to go!

giddy flashes of color

There's something about the intense colors of spring that make me go all giddy inside.


It's the quick onslaught of color, after months and months of dull grey skies and leafless trees.


Each year it happens, and yet it's different every year. This year, we didn't get so many blossoms on our forsythia. I must have pruned it too late in the season last year.


I especially love the way the ferns emerge all curled up. They really do look like fiddleheads.


But then there's always the big dose of reality. My most successful flowers in the garden are bright yellow, bloom all summer, and can't be killed no matter what. Gotta love the dandelions.

Studio Furniture Show in Boston!

Support the arts!

Come see a gallery show that opens this weekend at Gallery NAGA on Newbury Street in Boston. The show is called “Coffee, Hall, and End: Small Tables by Studio Furnituremakers” and it runs until June 2nd.

My beloved husband has a table in this show (ten points if you can guess which table is his!). Come see the tables!

REALLY feeling better about the spring

When Boston gets its spring on, it does it in a beautiful way. I love the magnolias that line Commonwealth Avenue and Beacon Street. These are on Comm Ave. Absolutely voluptuous blossoms--they're almost vulgar.

And this next picture just tickles me. Along Comm Ave, we saw a delightful statue of a black Labrador peeking out between the balusters. Notice that there's also a bronze tennis ball just to the left...



As we were admiring the statue, we heard a voice coming from the second-floor balcony. "Here's the real one!!" she said, and a friendly black Lab stuck his head out between those balusters and barked hello.

That made us smile for quite a while.

Feeling better about the spring

Okay, so perhaps I was unnecessarily grumpy about the snow. It didn't stay around long. It never does this late in the season (knock wood!). And today is simply glorious, with bright blue skies (though it's colder than I'd like).

At least the Easter bunny won't have to hide the eggs in the snow!!

no no no no NO!!!!!

It's snowing.

HARD.

It's sticking to the ground and the streets and the cars and everything.

I can't even bear to take a picture of it. It's just so WRONG.

Wake up, sleepyhead!

At long last, signs of life in the garden! We have buds on the lilacs, which will be gorgeous by Mother's Day.



A few flowerbuds on the saucer magnolia that I planted three years ago. Last year, I had one glorious bloom, and I'm hoping for more this year. The mature trees are positively vulgar with blossoms at the height of spring, but it'll take a few years before this one is anything but modest.



The rhubarb is looking weird, like some kind of tumor growing next to a pruney foot. But it'll be huge and delicious soon. I just wish it would be ready at the same time as my strawberries so I could make a strawberry-rhubarb pie. But by the time the berries are ready, the rhubarb is old and stringy. So instead, there will be rhubarb pie, then strawberry pie. (And a few weeks after that, raspberry pie!)



Last fall, I filled the garden bed around our little fountain with tulip bulbs, and they're popping up, ready to go. I never noticed before how the foliage is tinged with pink. I'm starved for color now, so perhaps my eyesight is a bit keener. (Notice the rocks. Gardening in New England is all about rocks.)



Ah, but here is the star of my garden at the moment--the moss. My picture doesn't do it justice--it is the greenest of greens, as if it were lit from within. The back and side yards are full of moss (and ferns too, a little later in the season). My next-door neighbor (who's lived in her house since the 1950s) gave me all sorts of tips and tricks for getting rid of moss when I first moved in, but I thought she was nuts. I spent decades in Texas, for Pete's sake, where everything is dry and crispy by May. Why on earth would I want to get rid of cool green moss??



And this ugly thing shows no signs of life in terms of greenery, but it's usually teeming with life all winter long. The birds love this hideous overgrown rambling rose bush. They congregate there, chasing each other from one cane to another, singing their songs and reminding me all winter long that the spring will come again. The bush itself is quite horrible--it's overgrown, half-dead in the middle, with blooms that look gorgeous for all of a week and nasty thorns that catch your clothes (and your skin) all summer long. But I love it for the birds and don't have the heart to take it out.



There is something truly delicious about these earliest days of spring. It's all potential right now. This is the year for the fattest raspberries, or the juiciest strawberries. Maybe I'll have a million magnolia blossoms on the tree, or I'll manage to actually grow tomatoes in our weird and wonderful climate. And every day, I eagerly search for new signs of life. Then seemingly all of a sudden, the spring picks up momentum and the world explodes into color and life (and weeds, of course!). I'm afraid knitting takes a bit of a backseat...

Must. Buy. This. NOW.

Oh my God. I've just discovered Hanne Falkenberg's designs. (Where have I been living? Under a rock?). And I discovered Mermaid. Beautiful Mermaid. A gazillion different colorways Mermaid. I could wear this every day. With jeans. With skirts. Dressed up. Dressed down. If I had this jacket, I'd be as thin and gorgeous as the model in the picture. I just know it.

But $250 for the kit? Ouch.

Is the pattern available elsewhere without the yarn?

Getting ready for the garden

Okay, so the snow has just barely melted and the backyard is like a bog, but I've got gardening fever! The bulbs are starting to break free of the soil, the rhubarb is pushing its cheery red stalks above ground, and soon, the weeds will take it all over! But right now I'm in fantasyland, thinking this is the year my front garden finally gets that lush English cottage look, that my magnolia tree will bear more than one blossom, and that the raspberries won't go moldy before I have a chance to pick them.

Oh, and while I was at the store picking up yet more gallons of milk (for thirsty boys!), I saw the cutest gardening tools for kids. SpongeBob and the Backyardigans--it doesn't get better than that (if you're 5 or under). Perhaps the Easter bunny could be persuaded to include them in the Easter egg hunt this year...!

He was a good friend

This is Fonzie.


He looks grumpy in nearly every picture I have of him. Not at all! Though independent, he loved people and would drool like mad when you petted him and purr as loudly as could be.

He forged a special bond with Alec, and the two usually curled up together whenever they slept.


Fonzie passed away today. He will be missed very much.

Relics of the Past

Renovations are underway at the Arlington Street station on the T, which is one of the oldest stations in the system. The other day, I saw something quite wonderful. Underneath the old walls are the original signs, made of small black-and-white mosaic tiles.






This one made me chuckle. It's a stencilled sign showing which way to go for the Arlington and Berkeley Street exits, and if you look closely underneath the names, you'll see little Victorian hands pointing the way.



Sadly, all of this is being covered over in the name of "improvement" and most certainly "economy." Other subway systems not only save their past but promote and celebrate it, but not the T. It may be the oldest subway system in the nation, but it's got a long way to go.

For my favorite example of a city celebrating its transportation history, take a visit to the London Transport Museum (now closed for renovations but expected to reopen this autumn). I last visited this marvelous place in 2001--what a treasure! They have omnibuses and train cars from the Tube and all sorts of delightful relics from the city's transportation past. I was delighted (and a little dismayed) to recognize some cars from the Tube from my first visit to London in 1984. Made me feel a little old to see things from "my time" in a historical museum!

Lest you fear that this is becoming a Boston blog instead of a knitting blog, let me reassure you that there will be some Actual Knitting Content to come very shortly. I'm starting a new sweater for my husband--I previewed the pattern way back in November, got the wool in January, and have finally started the sweater in March! I hope I will get it done in time for him to wear next fall and winter....

Cold, cold parade

St. Patrick's Day is a big deal to me. I'm not of Irish heritage (though many people have told me I look like I am), but it is my birthday. What better day to celebrate than with a bunch of people wearing green plastic hats and being of questionable sobriety?

And what fun to be in Boston, which takes the whole Irish thing pretty seriously! This year's parade was wicked cold--grey skies, a snow shower here and there, and strong winds. But there was merriment to be had!

First of all, the obligatory green silliness:




Then there were the local (and not-so-local) pipe bands. It takes a real man to wear a kilt during a Boston winter!


Though it did look painfully cold (note the grumpy faces...)


There's the expected visit by the patron saint himself...


As well as some unexpected parade participants, such as the guys from a local sheet metal union...


But despite all the fun, it got to be too cold for the little ones, so we did the "fast-forward" parade viewing by walking toward the T station in the opposite direction of the parade itself. And it all ended beautifully with a free ride on the T.

Happy St. Patrick's Day (a day late) to you all!

Let the Gardening Begin!

According to local gardening lore, St. Patrick's Day is the first day that gardening can begin here in the Boston area. Coming from Texas, that seemed really late to me (I started my Texas garden in February). And now, after nine years in New England, I still don't believe it.

Especially not this year...

cable-y goodness

Quinn is done...YUMMMMMMMM! The last time I posted about this one, I'd just finished the top band of cables:



And here's the finished bag, photographed in the weak light of a Boston late-winter day. It was so much fun to do--I love the deep texture of this pattern, worked in Rowan Yorkshire Tweed Aran yarn. I have to admit I didn't like working with the yarn--I found way too many knots (I found three in one ball of yarn!), and the yarn was so weak that it ended up breaking a few times. But the end result is beautiful!



To finish it off, I sewed a lining of brown cotton with a matching brown zipper at the top. The original pattern didn't specify a lining or closure, but I wanted to use this as a handbag rather than as a tote, so I thought a lining would make it more durable and a closure a necessary security measure. Also, the original pattern called for a three-strand braid of i-cord for the strap. I like my straps a bit wider, so I made a 5-strand i-cord braid instead. It's a little stretchier than I'd like, but it works just fine.

Happy Texas Independence Day!

So, they can take the girl out of Texas, but they can't take the Texas out of the girl....

Today is Texas Independence Day--the day in 1836 when a handful of uppity American settlers in Texas met in Washington-on-the-Brazos to tell Mexico "Adios!" and declare the Republic of Texas open for business. The experiment in independence was a resounding failure (but don't tell that to the Daughters of the Republic of Texas). By the early 1840s, the baby republic was up to its eyeballs in debt. Hostile Mexicans and Indians took their toll, and lots of Texans (who'd started off as Americans in the first place) started the drumbeat for annexation by the United States. By the end of 1845, it was all over, and Texas became the 28th state.

But hey, it's a particular point of pride that Texans can boast of having been an independent nation. Even if it was (shh) a failure. Even if it lasted only 9 years. Even if it accomplished absolutely nothing of note apart from setting aside land for primary schools and two universities...

Yee haw! Now where are my cowboy boots?

Chinese New Year in Boston

Today was the big celebration of the Chinese New Year in Boston's Chinatown, and after having lived here for 9 years, I finally managed to see it! We watched as the dragons and drummers went from business to business, stopping at each door to dance, "eat" an orange and a head of lettuce, and set off firecrackers. We didn't know the symbolism behind , so we stopped a couple of Chinese teens to ask what the significance of it all was. They couldn't tell us, so looks like I'm going to have to do a little research...

When lunchtime approached, my mouth was watering for some fabulous Chinese delicacy, but with two young kids in tow--especially Aidan, who is hardly the most adventurous eater--we had to settle for far less interesting food. Yes, that's right, in the midst of all this cultural extravaganza, we ended up eating in Chinatown's McDonald's. (I'm so embarrassed to admit this...) However, our lunch was saved from being a complete cultural wasteland by the dragons and drums, who actually came into the McDonald's for a dance. They ate the orange and lettuce (didn't set off any firecrackers, though!), and made the rounds through the place before heading back out to the streets. You don't see action like that in McDonald's very often, do you?

Anyway, here are a few pictures from our day. When I learn more about the symbolism, I'll come back and add some captions.

is it spring yet?

Sure feels like it. Okay, so it's a whopping 37 degrees Fahrenheit out there, but after last week's snow and wind and bone-chilling cold, it's starting to feel positively balmy to me.

Perhaps I've lived in New England too long.

This is the time of year when I take my encouragement when I can. What a thrill it is to leave the office at 5:00pm and still have about half an hour before the sky goes pitch black! How wonderful to see the mountains of brown ice piled along the roadways begin to melt (even though I know we'll have more snow to come before winter is over). And with February on the wane, I start to think about my garden.

Despite the fact that I've lived in the Boston area now for nearly 9 years, I still have to fight my internal gardener. No, the planting season doesn't begin in late February. No, I can't put my tomatoes in by late March. In theory, I should be able to plant peas by St Patrick's Day, though every time I've tried, they've rotted in the cold, wet soil. When I first moved here and started asking questions of my new gardening friends, I thought one of them was pulling my leg when she said it's safe to plant tomatoes by Memorial Day. What? In Texas, that's when you start to harvest tomatoes, not plant them! This would take some getting used to.

But despite the short growing season and the late start, there are some real advantages to gardening in New England. For one thing, there's spring--a real spring with daffodils and tulips and saucer magnolias and dogwoods and everything erupting into color all at once. I can't describe the rush I felt when I first discovered the magnolias on Beacon Street in Boston, how they explode with fat pink voluptuous blossoms, so many that you can hardly see the trees for the flowers. Or how about the thrill of the first blossom on the tiny saucer magnolia tree that I planted? Or the delight in seeing that the daffodils and tulips I planted in my front garden come back year after year? That may hardly seem like rocket science to most gardeners, but in Texas, if you want your bulbs to come back the next year, you have to dig them up and put them in the refrigerator for at least six weeks, to give them a "real" winter. Who has time for that?

And don't forget about the summer. Here in Boston, my garden thrives on the sunshine. My poor Texas garden limped through summer, baked bone-dry every day in the torrid sun. Not to mention the fact that the torrid sun baked me, too, which made gardening more of a chore than a delight by the time July rolled around.

Oh, but I am getting ahead of myself, aren't I? There are still two matching mountains of ice either side of my driveway. My car is grey from road salt, and I still have heavy winter gloves tucked into the pockets of my coat. Winter's still here.

But spring is on its way.

goodness to come

After a week spent in Texas, and a few days spent here in the miserable ice and snow, I vow to update the blog.

I will tell you about the wild animals we saw in Texas.

I will tell you about the three (three!) knitting projects I have going.

But not just yet. With aching muscles (from shoveling snow and ice at lunchtime!), seriously caffeine-deprived head, and Rod Stewart's "Every Picture Tells a Story" on the iPod, I must return to work. Just wanted to reassure the world that I'm still here!

More to come soon.

a (silent) poetry reading

I read about this on several blogs--first Anne's then Amelia's then Cara's then finally Deborah's. Here's my contribution, a poem I learned when I was studying French.

Il pleut il pleut
Il fait beau
Il fait du soleil
Il est si tôt
Il se fait tard
Il
Il
Il
Toujours Il
Toujours Il qui pleut et qui neige
Toujours Il qui fait du soleil
Toujours Il
Pourquoi pas Elle
Jamais Elle
Pourtant Elle aussi
Souvent se fait belle!

—Jacques Prévert

55 minutes until chocolate

We're having a big company meeting in less than an hour--one of those quarterly corporate meetings where they try to funnel three months' worth of news in about an hour to those of us in the trenches. Were it not for the food they provide as an enticement, most people would simply opt out. I know for a fact that there's going to be chocolate. I'll be there.

Yes, this is the inevitable result of my dieting attempts. The moment I decide it's time to shed the extra weight I've gained since Christmas/pregnancy/high school, all I do is think about food. Crazy, isn't it? This time, though, I'm trying to do it mostly for the health benefit (although losing a dress size or two would be a boost, too).

I've been watching Turn Back Your Body Clock on BBC America, and even though it's a cheesy-trendy reality show, it has really made me think. I've always been the eternal optimist about how I treat my body--I had endless amounts of time to lose the weight, get in shape, eat healthier foods. If not this year, then next year. Or maybe the one after that. But the episodes of this show have focused on people in my age range who have felt the same way. Most of them are MUCH harder on their bodies than I am--they smoke heavily, they drink vast quantities, and never exercise. And it shows. For the people on the program, it shows outside as well as inside, but it gets me to thinking--what if my own unhealthy habits are showing on the inside already?

Bad habits aren't easy to change, so I'm approaching it gradually. I don't have the luxury of an 8-week intensive course with personal trainers, nutritionists, and motivators to keep me on the straight and narrow. So, I've given up French fries. Hard thing, because I'm a carb-a-holic and love my fries. And I've given up most fast food (with the exception of an occasional slice of pizza with the kids). I'm boosting my activity level with time on the exercise bike (in preparation for spring biking!) and more walking.

But when there's going to be chocolate during what promises to be a long and tedious meeting, how can I pass that by?