don't stop

Hi K,

You know, I really love knitpicks needles, but the cabley ones just keep on breaking on me. Those dang cables slip out of the tips right in the middle of a row, and all your stitches come out, and you're left with wanting to knit and nothing to knit with. Very sad. And, as of recent, they only make double pointed needles in sizes US 4+ in 8 inches long. Which is too long for double pointed needles, if you ask me.

I'm going to try to show you something. When I was in Vermont, this last summer, I had dyed some Cascade 109 before I left, because I had this sudden urge to knit a pair of chunky cabled mittens that are all the rage on Ravelry right now called Bella's mittens. Here's the back story as much as I understand it on these mittens.

There's this blood disease called porphyria cutanea tarda, where if the patients go out in the sun, their skin gets horrible blisters. Their blood also destructs, or hemolyses, so they need blood replacement. *These people spawned a race called the vampires, which even though the diseased people they sprang from probably didn't live forever, they did. The vampires were all really really good looking and hot. One day somebody named Bella fell in love with one of the Vampires. She was apparently able to change into a lamb at will, which is why she had these mittens, because she could produce her own wool for the yarn. She liked to eat apples with the mittens on but I don't recommend this because that might get the mittens sticky.

Anyhow, I arrived** and I started knitting these mittens. Now, let me tell you, there is a reason so many people have knitted these mittens: it's somewhat addicting.


Now, you might be able to tell from this picture that I've knit, ahem, three pairs of these. Almost. I'm on the last pair. So I finished the first pair, and then I took a field trip out to Kaleidoscope Yarns in Essex Junction, which is really a lovely shop. Such nice Malabrigo Chunky, which I though would be really good for knitting maybe another scarf and a pair of these mittens. So, I knit the second blue pair that's squished in the middle, and fiddled with the pattern a bit.

Wow. I. Love. Malabrigo Chunky. It's such smooth, lovely knitting. Very, very nice. I decided I couldn't end our relationship there. So I ganked two of the lime skeins of yarn from the previously to-be scarf and started another pair of mittens.

Until that is, I arrived at the O'Hare International Airport. I learned a few things going through O'Hare that day. If you wear a nice dress, security will complement you and let you through easier. If you're planning on waiting it out with knitting, bring extra yarn. If you wear a nice dress, store a hairbrush, some toothpaste, and a change of clothes in your carry on for when your flight gets canceled.

Because I ran out of yarn right at the tips of the mittens, I stalled. I couldn't go any further, even when I got home. And now the mittens are right there, where you see them.

Almost done.

Sob. So close.

Love,
A

*This is called sarcasm, by the way.

**Not in the same place as Bella the vampire-loving lamb/woman but in Vermont. Unless she was in Vermont.

insectophobia

A,
The giant house spiders are back. Giant as in, I saw a small tarantula this summer the size of one of these spiders. Plus, black widows to boot. We found a black widow spider outside of our front door, and then a second one the following night. The next day I saw a piece of styrofoam that looked like it could be a giant egg sack, and I sprayed it to death with spider-killing spray. I think I'm getting hyper-sensitive about the spiders.

Remember this bug? Insects can be scary when they're in places they don't belong. Like houses. Or cars.


I hope Iowa is scary-insect free for you.

K

practice makes glove-perfect

A,
Aren't these so much fun?

Sometimes the perfect pair of gloves takes multiple trials and errors to get it just right. This project had its origins over a year ago. Last last May, my aunt-in-law sent me a knitting book for my birthday on Latvian Mittens. I read it, and contemplated, and over the summer I ordered some yarn for what I thought would be the perfect project. Only, the colors that I saw when I opened my package were not exactly as I had interpreted them online; so much so that I abandoned all hope of using the yarn (at least on the intended project). Which just goes to show you that there's no substitute for seeing true colors in true person.

So then I decided, I can't fail too miserably in my color choices if I pick just two colors to work with. I happened to have enough yarn lying around in blue and white fingering and so I cast on for some lovely Latvian mittens. I'm still pleased about the color choice (lovely shade of blue), but not so pleased about the mittens-in-progress. Or should I say, mittens-that-will-never-be. Simply put, they're far too small. And I'm not pleased with this thumb gusset either. But most disheartening, is the fact that the pattern repeat ends far too soon, forcing the mitten to either be stumpy short or strangely patterned. Or, more likely, never finished. At the end of this, I'm not particularly interested in salvaging the project. It's just too tiresome. As you can see, I've already slipped the needles off to start up another project; I just didn't have the heart to unravel it all yet. If I knit a project out of this book (which I will, eventually--I just need some time to heal), it will be a different pattern, different color scheme, different yarn. The book is great, I just didn't seem to be able to plan well enough to pull it off.

Now, after all that, I still wanted a success, so I kept a tiny piece of hope alive, and lo and behold, some kind knitting individual came along, wrote up a free pattern, and even posted requirements for the exact yarn that was to be used. Although I don't think these are Latvian, it's still a similar concept, and it has taught me quite a bit about color selection simply from working the pattern. Amazing. Finally, a success story.

And even better, I found a way to make knitting gloves enjoyable. I turned the fingerless mittens into gloves, and it was all possible due to these itsy bitsy double pointeds that don't drive me crazy with their absurd length.

And thus, more than a year after my scheming began, I have finished two gloves. Two lovely, colorful, warm gloves. I think my aunt-in-law will enjoy these. And even if she protested that the other ones were just fine and that anything I made her would be just fine, I know in her heart, she was secretly hoping that I would knit her these very gloves.

Tell Archimedes hello from me!
K

truthfully

A,
Arizona's medical school is starting classes this week, which seems absurdly early compared to the rest of the university. I still have three full weeks to soak in the sun and take some time for myself. As well as contemplate the new course that I will be teaching. LaKeisha and I have a new TA position in which we will be leading a supplemental instruction course for minority students in general chemistry. It's refreshing because it's new, and it's exciting because we are being given almost free reign to develop our own course. We'll be following the content covered in the lecture, but our supplemental instruction will include additional practice and training as to how to best learn general chemistry.

As I have been contemplating this new course, I ran across a book that I read while in high school. It had a couple of chapters devoted to the scientific process and scientific explanations. I found most intriguing the following passage:

“If a scientific theory makes successful predictions, and if it does not conflict with other well-established theories, and if it makes no false predictions, then, whatever its shortcomings, it is true.” (pg 77)

I find this passage infinitely fascinating. What is truth, really? What is a scientific truth? There are models we use in chemistry that help us to understand and predict the nature of atomic particles. If these models are useful, is that sufficient grounds to necessitate them being ‘truthful’ as well? I don’t actually know what to think about this, but it’s been tumbling around in my mind. Can truth be subjective? Must it be always absolute?

A few months ago I participated in a retreat focusing on evolution (due the occasion of it being Darwin’s 200^th birthday). In fact, I found that I learned more biology during this weekend event than I have ever remembered learning in previous years (which may not be something to brag about, but it was a very interesting weekend). Having a limited understanding of evolution prior to this, I was surprised to find that the idea is really quite reasonable and easy to comprehend. Yet for some reason, it is framed in staunch controversy between “religious” and “scientific” minds so that one might be led to believe that there is no middle ground.

But if the scientific theory of evolution is able to produce accurate predictions concurrent with our observations of the natural world, is it not worth learning and utilizing? Does that lend it “truthfulness?” Some may have philosophic differences that make it difficult to reconcile evolution and religion. But if it is useful in the context of science, why not give it a try?

It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me to say that a person “believes” in evolution or that they “believe” in science. Rather, we should use science as a tool to make discoveries, predictions, and engineer new technology. So what is “truth” and what bearing does it have on science? Is there an a priori truth? How do we know what we know?

I certainly don’t know what the "answer" is, but I would love to start a conversation, possibly in this new course. I love to listen to and participate in heated, rational debates. Those are my favorite. And whenever possible, why not tie it into something as exciting as science?

Take care,

K

A Little Owl Travels

K,

Hey! You went found somewhere in your state you love, that's pretty awesome. I just wanted to let you know that while I'm here in Burlington, Vermont, my little knitted owl, Archimedes wanted to start his own blog! I've been typing it for him, since he doesn't type so quickly. But he's pretty excited about it.

You should check it out.

A Little Owl Travels

Love,
A

Sweet Jesus, how did this end up in the middle of NM?

A,
I went camping in New Mexico last weekend. Up in the rocky mountains, in Lincoln National Forest, where it is green, lush, humid, and cold all year round. Where there are birch trees, crocuses, irises, columbine, and wild strawberry plants. Normal plants! And elk! At our campsite! Can I just say how much I miss nature? It was a haven of beauty surrounded by the total desolation that is the southwest. I have no idea how it is possible for NM to stake a claim to something so beautiful--it was completely out of character for the state.

And how much more amazing is a national forest than a national park? Oh so great. For one, we were able to bring Dutch with us onto our campsite and onto the trails. At many of the national parks that I have been to, you are made to feel like a tourist. You are overwhelmed as much by the many throngs of vacationers as you are by the beauty of the park. The trails are paved and overrun with people, and there is not the solitude of nature that perhaps you came to enjoy. At a national forest, there is no entrance fee, you are less likely to encounter another person on the trails, and it seems overall more wilderness-y and primitive. I spent my childhood visiting different national and state parks, and I want to say that this forest was the best of them all . . . Most likely, however, that would be my nature-deprivation speaking to me and altering my impartiality. Oh, to get out of Arizona and see some green again.

You can't really camp in Arizona, at least where I am. For one, I don't really care to set up camp in the desert. And for another, there are too many illegals and drug smugglers for it to be safe. Where we live, we are surrounded by mountains and national forest (although how this actually constitutes a forest, I'm not exactly sure--it's more scraggly bushes than trees). Yet these mountains taunt me, for I am not about to go hiking alone in the desert, even if I bring Dutch with me. And of course James, who hikes around all the time, then comes home and does three different workouts each day, doesn't always have the motivation to chaperone my hiking. Which is quite understandable. That's not to say that we don't explore the mountains, it's just that we have to find a time when our weekends coincide.

In any case, we had a marvelous time camping, cooking over a fire, and finding out that Dutch is a thoroughly domesticated dog that is afraid of the dark. He is still recouperating from the weekend and I suspect he will be sleeping this entire week. Unfortunately, as you may have noticed, there are no pictures on this post documenting the beautiful nature. It seems that I accidently left the camera at home and therefore you will have to use your imagination to picture this oasis.

I did want to say, thank you for the birthday package. It was joy after joy, and the yarn is squishy beautiful amazing-ness. I want to knit with it immediately, but I have to admit, I am having a hard time focusing on finding a project for myself. I haven't done that in a while, and it's taking some discipline, but I think I have a couple of ideas in mind. I also thought you should know, when I took out the yarn, James smelled it to see if it smelled like kool-aid.

Hope you are enjoying a lush and nature-filled summer! When are you going to VT? You know, the king arthur flour company is located there. Lots of yumminess if it's in your area.

Take care!
K

ps. In the book I am re-reading, one of the characters has a job being paid to listen to vacationers re-tell of their adventures and sift through their copious amounts of pictures. The vacationer doesn't want to risk losing a friendship by boring their acquaintances with accounts of their travels, and so they pay someone else to listen to the entire story. I am crossing my fingers that you are not similarly bored by the reminiscence of my trip, or at least not enough to damage our friendship. At least I didn't make you look through all my pictures.

toy hermit

A,
There's a reason why I always knit in the round. And it is not because I particularly care for double-pointed needles. In fact, I find double-pointeds somewhat awkward to knit with, particularly considering I have to take care that I don't leave a gap in stitches between the needles. On the other hand, not knitting in the round would be far worse. As you know, I find finishing projects to be the least pleasant part of knitting. Which is why I avoid seams at all cost. At all cost! And it has occurred to me at certain points in my knitting career that I not only find seaming projects to be un-enjoyable, but I don't find that I am particularly good at it either. It is also likely that each of these observations explains the other.


As I was finishing up my hermit crab this morning, I was thinking to myself that there must be a better way to do this. I am sure that there is a way to piece this all together that is a bit more systematic. And maybe a way that makes it look a little cleaner. Did you notice that I-cord around the circumference of the shell? That's something I added. A little aesthetic addition? Well, yes. But it's mostly to hide the botched job I did of stitching on the hermit's head.


It seems to me that with knitted toys, it is particularly important to get the finishing done well. It is partly this finishing that gives the toy its character--the position of a certain appendage or the stitches on the face can completely change the character of the toy. And particularly with this pattern, because it is so brilliant, I want to do it justice.


On the other extreme, I was at a store earlier this month, where they were selling a number of hand-knit toys. It looked like the wool was unevenly hand-spun, and the entire toy smelled delightfully of lanolin. But the best part about these toys was that they were roughly pieced together. It wasn't the precision that made them stand out. It was the earthy, rough-hewn imperfection of the projects that made them seem all the more imaginative.

I don't know how this reflects my own knitted hermit crab, but I guess in the end, he didn't turn out too shabby. I did really enjoy making his shell. And I am quite certain that its recipient will love him no matter what--which is probably the best part. But until next week--when I say goodbye to the hermit--this crab is sticking with me, and we are going to have many adventures together.

Happy knitting,
K