Decisions, decisions

I really don’t deal well with being in limbo, in any way, shape, or form. Once a decision is made, especially an unpleasant one, I’m much happier than in the process of making a decision.

That’s why the year of 2009 is going to have some of those less-than-pleasant memories when I look back on it. A hard decision has been in the works for a while, and still needs to be implemented, which won’t be pleasant either, but at least the first decision is made.

I’m not really going to go into detail here. Too much of it is personal, and really hard to explain without giving an extremely detailed context. Suffice it to say that it is something I have decided to do at least partially out of consideration for my mother’s feelings, and while some might say, in the context, that that is the wrong foundation, my answer is, it is exactly the right reason.
I refuse to be so arrogant that I put myself first on something that is, in at least one very significant way, not that important to me.

What has been interesting and revealing to me about my own character is that I make decisions in a fairly consistent way, especially when they are big decisions. I’ve done this before on money decisions, and I recognize certain patterns of behavior that I really need to take into account as I approach new decisions.

I don’t like being in limbo about a decision, but I also don’t like to make a decision without doing research and thinking things through. The more stressful a decision is, the more intense both these urges are. These are two very important character traits, and sometimes they put me in direct conflict with myself.

I like to wait and do lots of research and thinking about something, even to the point of thinking about it rather obsessively, until I get tired of it. (I never really feel like it is possible to do enough research.) Change can be difficult, and routine anchors me, so I like to turn things over in my mind quite a while before I make the actual change itself. One of the more interesting results is that from the outside it looks like I make decisions quickly. But nothing could be further from the truth, ’cause the truth is that I’ve been thinking about that decision for a very long time. When I actually do it, it quite often means that I had made the decision a long time ago and just decided it was time to implement.

Regarding the unhappy decision I referred to above, the first one is made, but now a second one awaits. The full implementation of the first decision has to wait until I’ve made the second one. Because it was an unpleasant decision (the second decision is not really unpleasant, just difficult, but the emotions that color the first decision are influencing the attitudes toward the second), I’d like to get #2 over with quickly.

Time to go into research mode. Unfortunately I also hate being rushed.

It’s times like this that my crafts are a wonderful refuge. When the tension gets to be too much, the steady repetition of my knitting soothes me, the smooth movement of the spinning wheel calms me, the rhythm of the weaving takes me out of myself, and the productive whirr of the sewing machine or the sewing needle pleases me. I’m very grateful for their power in my life.

Satisfaction of creativity

It’s funny how sometimes you get lost in the busyness of life and then suddenly realize — I’m not getting what I need. My life in the last month or so has been busy enough that I’m not finding even the minimum amount of time necessary to satisfy my crafting urges. Last night, instead of going to bed as soon as I got home, as I probably should have, I stayed up an extra hour to wind a skein of yarn and chart up one of the designs from Barbara Walker’s first Treasury. I was filled with the hunger to knit something. Today I finally found some time at lunch to start the swatch — blanket, scarf, stole? — and walked away feeling satisfied. I’m not sure why it needed to be knitting; that’s usually my hour for cross stitch. I’m not sure why it needed to be cables, although I have been thinking about them for a while. I just know I walked away feeling that faint sense of satisfaction.

It wasn’t enough. I’m hungry for more.

Tonight I’m going to do some more and maybe some weaving too. I’ve got a warp to finish. And this weekend I really must do some of the cross stitch, if only to make up for the lost hour of stitchery today. And, well, who knows what else? There are things I must get done this weekend, but my main focus this Saturday is going to be some crafting. I really need it.

Comments on Outliers

It was interesting reading this book. The entire idea behind it is what are the elements of success, presumably with the idea of being able to mimic them. As far as I could figure out, the list includes: cultural inheritance, family culture, chance/opportunity, and 10,000 hours of practice. However, he did not really emphasize the individual’s participation in success. It is incredibly important to make the choice to take advantage of your opportunities and the focus to put in those many hours of practice.

I found several ideas about this very provocative, and it definitely leaves me with a great appreciation of the foundation that my parents gave me. Because of them, I had a great education, a strong spiritual foundation, and lots of opportunities, many of which I took advantage of. I also have an attitude of “can-do” in approaching any topic that is clearly a result of the family and cultural legacy that they gave me. And from this book, I can appreciate it all the more.

However, I am still left with several problems. On of the first problems that occurred to me as I read through the concept of 10,000 hours of practice as one of the criteria of success — how to count those 10,000 hours? All three examples that the author gave: Bill Gates, Bill Joy, and the Beatles, had a concentrated focus of 10,000 hours of practice within a fairly confined time period. My question, however, was: does it have to be that focused a time period? I have a work/life balance that I try to achieve, yet the implication of his anecdotes is that these people so totally focused on their practice that the rest of their life took a back seat. In my life, crafting is obviously important to me, yet it is not something I want to be my source of income. I want it to remain the thing I do for pleasure and not for necessity, which means that I must have a job, which means that I don’t have time to devote those 10,000 hours within that confined space of time. Does that mean I can’t develop the level of expertise that his examplars did? Or can I achieve it over a lengthier amount of time? And what is included in that practice time? Does is have to be just one craft upon which I must focus, or is it possible for me to achieve a modicum of mastery in all of the fiber crafts in which I am interested, so that my field is not just weaving or quilting or knitting, but rather the fiber arts in general? Does it include all the time I spend thinking about those crafts, reading about them, preparing for them, shopping for the tools, evaluating a pattern, or does it focus specifically on the moment when I am doing that one part of the process which is weaving or knitting, etc.? I have my own thoughts, but the author does not even open the question, and that is a lack.

The other problem I had with his approach is that he never even discussed, not even in the intro, a definition of success. Yes, many of the individuals he cited can be considered successful, but only in a specific context. Bill Gates is successful in the computer world, the Beatles were successful in the music world. But are they successful in other contexts? Before you can decide if someone is successful, you must first figure out what successful is, and the author never addresses that question. Yet that is an important premise of his entire work. I don’t want Gates’ type of success. I’m even less interested in the Beatles’ type of success. I want a happy life, balanced between work and play, with constantly deepening spiritual growth and the enjoyable challenge of becoming a master in my vocation as a fiber artist while still enjoying my career as librarian, about which I do care. How do I achieve that according to his definitions?

And then, of course, as I already mentioned, he did not note the importance of the decision made by the individuals to pursue their success. The stories he offers make it clear that there were others in the same locations, with the same background and the same opportunities, yet they did not take advantage of them. The individual’s choices are still very important.

So, while I greatly enjoyed this book — it is well-written — and I found ideas of value in it, I was still frustrated by the underlying assumptions that the author never addresses.

White to wheat

I’ve been part of a trend that I didn’t quite realize I was following until considerably later in the process. The trend? the move to whole grains.

When I moved nine years ago, I grabbed the opportunity to create a new habit. I tend to find the time of a large change the perfect atmosphere to make small changes that I stick to, so I decided that I would begin regularly making my own bread. I had already been baking some, just not consistently. But at the time of the move, I was comfortable enough with it that I decided to try the change to consistently making my own. One step at a time, you now. So I did. I think one loaf of bread was bought while my parents were visiting to help me with the move, but then I was on my own, learning a new job, living (ironically) right behind a grocery store, and buying only flour, never bread.

It pretty much worked. I simply stuck to my guns by telling myself — if you don’t want it badly enough to make it, then you don’t want it badly enough. I think that in the nine years since I’ve moved, I may have bought one loaf of sandwich bread since that first one my Mom bought, but I’m not even sure of that. I do know that the only time store-bought sandwich bread has been in this house has been when she was here. (She brings her own, sometimes. But she likes my bread; after all, she gave me a Kitchen Aid for my birthday after a few years of this. Before that, I was kneading it all by hand.)

Now, this didn’t mean that I never bought any bread at all; for example, I still haven’t learned to make bagels, so if I want them, I buy them. But eventually…

Anyway, as I grew more and more comfortable with this process, to the point that I memorized the recipe, I began to contemplate whole wheat bread. Now, it wasn’t that I hadn’t had the idea of whole wheat from the beginning — one of the bread books I read at the time of my move, and in a way it inspired me to make the change — was Bread Alone. But those recipes were almost too difficult in a way; or at least, that’s how I thought of them. I hadn’t yet made the transition to the proper ingredients or the proper mindset. The mindset that said, I can do it, I just have to find them. And really, the practice of making bread for a while was a good thing before I started to tackle the differences in wheat. Whole wheat flour acts a little differently than white flour.

So, I started slowly. First, I found good flour (King Arthur is my favorite still, although I mostly don’t buy flour from them any more, explain why in a minute). And I started making my rolls and sandwich bread recipes with a blend of wheat and white. Eventually I reached a point where I had about a 50:50 ratio. And it was good.

But then came a bit of a sea change in my thinking. I had been intending all along to move toward more whole grains in my diet for reasons of health, but I hadn’t really intended to do a complete change to whole grains. But somewhere around that time, I discovered a trend through the internet; many people were teaching, for reasons both religious and secular, that, as a society, we really needed to move away from white flour to whole wheat, from processed foods to fresh, local foods, from a convenience culture to one that gathered, preserved, and cooked one’s own food directly and mindfully, as much as possible. So I was suddenly contemplating not just a move toward cooking with whole wheat flour, but an entirely different mindset in my approach to food.

It didn’t happen all at once. In fact, I’d say this has happened over the course of the entire nine years I’ve lived here, and I’m not finished yet. It was more of a step by step process: incorporating more and different vegetables into my diet, eventually getting into the habit of going to the farmer’s market regularly, trying out a CSA farm subscription for vegetables and eggs, disciplining myself not to buy out-of-season fruits and vegetables at the grocery store on a regular basis but more as a treat, getting local meat sources, and dairy sources, too (I’m still working on that one, though I have found local sources), figuring out what I wanted locally and what was a lost cause (I’m not giving up my coffee and spices), and finally, buying a grain mill so I can grind my own extremely fresh flour. (I had to think about that one for a while; it is a commitment, you know.)

Interestingly, one of  my biggest difficulties was finding recipe books. In some ways, it still is. I want good recipes that work toward good taste with regular ingredients, but are committed to using only whole wheat flour. Even the King Arthur Flour Whole Wheat Bread recipe book, which I have and have used enthusiastically, did not make that commitment. They used blends of white and wheat when what I wanted was whole wheat only. Or those wonderful vegetarian cookbooks — required me to buy foods that weren’t available locally, unless I was willing to buy something that was trucked across the continent. Or the preservation cookbooks — required me to use ingredients that I was trying to use less of, like sugar (for example, jam recipes — I just recently discovered one that didn’t require me to use pectin!). But I’m stubborn, and so I keep looking, and experimenting, and eventually finding what I need.

Just last summer, I actually had a weird moment as a result of all these slow changes. I do have some white flour still sitting in my pantry, waiting for me to use it up, and last summer I had a time shortage and a need for some bread. So I made myself a white flour sandwich loaf because I didn’t have time to grind my grain.  Never again! It was, well, it didn’t taste bad, it just didn’t taste. I felt like I was eating air more than food, and I missed the flavor of the whole wheat. (It made me weirdly uncomfortable.) Once the little bit of white flour is gone from my pantry, I don’t think I’ll be buying anymore again.

Now what changes remain? Well, I need to learn more about food preservation. There are plenty more things to can so I don’t have to buy as much in the winter. I’d like to figure out a way to buy a lot of local onions, for example, and preserve them in my storage room so I can have some all winter long, when the farmer’s market doesn’t have them any more. Same with garlic. A root cellar would be nice, but not really a functional solution yet. And I really need to tackle a vegetable garden, so it can fill in some of the gaps of what I buy elsewhere.

But, you know, one step at a time…

Excuse me, I need to go pay my CSA farm bill for the year…

local is best

This week I’ve been having an interesting experience with the clear proof that local food is best.
Monday I fixed a dish for my work lunches that week, as is my habit, and so I tossed together a quick hamburger tomato sauce, rather like spaghetti sauce except without the spaghetti, that had ground beef, canned tomatoes, onions, green peppers, and lovely spices and herbs. And it has been good! I’ve been trying to figure out what makes it so lovely, and I finally decided it’s a combination of two things.

  1. I used cinnamon for the first time, and
  2. the canned tomatoes were canned by me last summer.

Why did these make a difference? Well, the cinnamon is something I had read about before, and finally decided to try it, and it is definitely good. Upon reflection, I may have used a bit too much for the pound of hamburger — I used about one teaspoon — but I’m not really complaining too much. I will definitely be experimenting with cinnamon again in a meat dish. But the big difference is the tomatoes. When I fixed them for canning, I cooked them down a bit with some generic Italian spices, which added considerable to their richness and sweetness. That depth of flavor was greatly enhanced by the spices in this meat sauce this time around, but it would not have been as good if the canned local tomatoes hadn’t been there in the first place.

At least I don’t think so. Clearly I will have to experiment a bit with the rest of my canning to confirm this conclusion — such a hardship!

slicing the tomatoes for canning

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testing, testing, 1-2-3

This is a test of the publish at a certain time capability of wordpress.

How are things going over the winter work time?

Winter is actually a good crafts work time for me. Although I don’t always achieve the goal, I do like to hibernate a bit during the winter and organize and contemplate plans for the year. This year has been a bit busier than most, but we’ll see what can be achieved. I have been thinking about what I would like to do in the various crafts of my life.

For example, weaving… I took a class just a week ago on 18th century textiles. It was lovely.  I got several ideas on what I want to work on next, plus more than half of the warp to use up. I got some help on warping, which, with the Peggy Osterkamp book I received for Christmas, is helping me to understand better why my cottolin warp was such a mess. I saw a loom just like mine, except I think that mine is older, and suddenly I understand some things about my loom that puzzled me before. All of this is progress.

Sewing…stalled, but I did pick up some cloth when I visited New York.

Quilting…stalled at home, but still plugging away on the hand-quilting of denim quilt at work.

Cross-stitch…equally a non-starter at home, but also plugging away one lunchtime a week.

Knitting goes quite well; in fact it will need its own post.

Spinning…goes well, but in fits and starts.

All things considered, it is a good time, yet there is so much more I want to do!

thinking about crafts

I find that when I go on a trip, I actually think about crafts more than most people might think. That is when I take the opportunity to browse through books that I checked out of the library, books on techniques, new patterns, new ideas, or moving farther along with the ones I already have. I work on projects, but they are either a project that needs a specific piece of work done that needs a bit more concentration and time than I can easily achieve at home, or else something easy and simple. And of course, portable.

But after I started this blog entry, I realized that I didn’t feel anything profound to say about that fact. I didn’t find time to write on the vacation time, time blurred on me when I got back home, and suddenly…

My brain is full of things to work on, craft-wise and other. I think I need a mental clearing, in other words, a LIST.

  1. Weaving dishtowels — I actually started up the weaving of them. All I can say is, the warping shows that I am a beginner.
  2. Spinning silk — I’d like to get that batch done, so I can actually see if I’ve achieved anything, plus I really want to move on to the Shetland batch I got in class.
  3. Domovoi shawl — significant progress
  4. Socks — I’ve stalled because I don’t have a good way to carry them around because I lost my stitch covers. I really must buy some more, because they really, really made a difference.
  5. Lochinvar sweater — hibernating until I pick up the arms
  6. Top-down sweater — ready to pick up again now that it’s cool
  7. Scarf — I feel this weird guilt that I’ve been working on this so long and haven’t yet finished it. It’s for me, so nobody is expecting it, but really!
  8. Baby kimono — it just needs the i-cord edging added.
  9. Dragon crossstitch — I’m actually approaching the end. What I really need right now is some finishing details before I focus totally on the backstitch. I already have two crossstitch/embroidery patterns to start on as soon as this is done, one large, one small.
  10. Quilting of denim quilt, done by hand, moving along slow but steady
  11. Sampler quilt for machine quilting — I need to baste it
  12. Crazy quilt — still piecing
  13. French braid quilt for bedroom — still piecing
  14. Bag for DNiece1
  15. Nightshirt for learning about sewing with knits
  16. Muslin for dress in style I really like
  17. Baby hat, using up leftovers
  18. anything else I can think of? There are several ideas that I am contemplating as soon as I finish something!!!! Cotton cardigan, next lace shawl, next batch of dishtowels, machine embroidery decorations for crazy quilt (it’s a machine crazy quilt), the really big idea of a quilt made from my woven fabric, maybe some of which I spun myself? I’ll have to write a separate idea blog post for that one.

Anyway, that is just the craft list. There is still continuing work on the bathroom renovation, after which I’ll have a long list of items to finish up in general in relation to the house, especially cleanup!!! Also, I’m getting interested in digital scrapbooking. New ideas everywhere.

Okay, that helps a little bit. I need to go back and finish the list in detail for the bathroom and home stuff, then a list for Christmas gifts, then maybe I’ll figure out what needs my focus right now, for which I have enough energy.

Use it before you lose it (knitting)

So, to continue my notes on the class, here is what stuck with me on the knitting portion of the class.

Shetland lace knitting was, and is, production lace knitting, so the whole format is based upon the idea of getting it done fast and well. For example, casting off is to be avoided in favor of grafting, there is no purling, only knitting, and decreases are generally only knit2tog, never worrying about the slant of the decrease.

The most important note for me was the structure of the basic lace shawl forms, and the order in which they are created to avoid the grafting. This struck me as strange when she first explained it, but I think that is because I do not always have great success in grafting and sewing together. And when I think back to the sheer chore of casting-off my first lace shawl, I think I may see the point.

So, what is the order of the form? Edging, quarters (borders), and center are the different parts. Interestingly, this is exactly the opposite of how many modern shawls are made, but I think it addresses one of the problems that modern shawl construction has, which is the stretchiness of the outer edge.

The lace edge is done in one long strip. Note that the length of the strip dictates the final size of the shawl, so you need to make a decision then. No extra or difficult stitches are done to allow for corners, since the corner turn is achieved through the joining of the quarters and the stretchiness of the wool. If you are not using wool, it is a little less simple. I can’t remember for sure, but I think you do not graft the lace edging together until the end. Just make sure you start the edging with a provision cast-on of some sort and keep the end of the edging live until you are ready to graft them together.

Next you do the quarters, also known in modern parlance as the borders. You can do each one individually and join at each corner, or you can do two sections together. Truthfully, I believe you could do all four sections together as well, but the teacher’s comment was that it would be a really long row, which is true. It depends, I guess, on if you are willing to deal with a really long row in order to avoid the sewing that would otherwise be necessary. These would be joined not with grafting, but with feather stitch. However, the joining together would also wait until after the entire shawl had been knit. I’m not sure if it is necessary to wait, but probably it would be easier to do the rest of the work before sewing together all the different parts. Once you finished the quarter section, do keep the final row of stitches live for the center work.

The final section is the center. It gets picked up from a quarter section (probably the first one, just to be orderly about it), and is knit up to the opposite quarter and grafted on, then grafted to the sides.

Each section where sewing or grafting is to take place will need to have a stitch that makes that easy. For example, the edging will often get a yarnover start in order to create a hole for easy picking up. The other easy-to-pick-up beginning for a row on the edging is to slip the first stitch as if to purl every other row. There may be others, but those were the two that were discussed. For the quarters, the sides where picking up is to take place will get a similar yarnover beginning to make sewing together easy as well. And of course the beginning and end of the lace edging are kept live.

If you do a shawl this way, you really don’t have to cast-off at all. Now that I think of it, that is really amazing.

Other structures are the rectangular shawl (this is apparently the only one that is actually called a shawl on Shetland) and the triangular shawl (not sure what this is called, but the square shawl is called a hap, which is apparently the Shetland word for shawl). They are similarly knitted so that casting off is avoided and grafting is encouraged. I really liked the triangular structure.

The triangular shawl starts at the bottom point and works up to the long top. The edging is knit as part of shawl, not a separate section to be picked up. The top section is kept live once it is finished, because then the lace edging is added across the top, joining to the live stitches as you go, and then grafting them together at the top center.

The rectangular shawl/stole shape is started from the edging, a border, adding the side edgings as part of the knitting, continuing on to the body, then stopping and keeping those stitches live. You then cast on an edging and border again for the opposite end and join the two together with grafting. A scarf is a similar structure, just without the side edgings, although apparently you could do it the same as well, just in a slightly smaller size.

The teacher also demonstrated the use of the traditional knitting belt of the Shetland Isles, which was quite interesting. I tried one out while we were there, but did not find it to be appealing enough. However, I can see how it would have sped up knitting on the long sections, since it encouraged small movements to maximize productivity. After trying it out, I looked again at my own knitting and realized how much I moved my hands, constantly changing the angle of the knitting needles. This is not really bad, but notably less efficient. I’m going to try to modify the way I hold my knitting needles to see if I can improve things. I think it might be more comfortable in the long run. Who knows? I may go back and decide to get one of those belts to try again. One trick that she showed us that looks very helpful is to use the belt to impose a slight tension on the knitting in order to open the stitches of your active row, thus making it easier to knit. You can use a normal belt for that trick, and I’m going to see if I can’t figure out something to achieve that.

In picking up the stitches from the lace edging for the quarters, I got confused about what direction to start from, especially since I think it depended on which of the two edges had been used in knitting the edging, YO or slip as if to purl. The YO was easy to see and pick up, but the slip as to purl pickup required a bit more care, since you want to pick up from the side that would leave you with a purl bump on each side of the shawl, not two on one side and nothing on the other. I’m going to hope that some of my classmates had a better explanation to share here.

Right now, that’s all the details I can think of; I’ll contemplate more to see if I can add anything later.

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