My Peeps

When it comes to knitting bridge panels, my peeps are awesome. The first photo is a collection from several people. The second is mostly knitnightjustine's and the third belongs to knitnighttara and knitnightalison.

I wish I could say I was responsible for one small piece of it but that is not the case. I did, however provide occasional reality checking by reciting our mantra, "it's a bridge people." Panels are 72" x 34" give or take a stitch and details about the Knit the Bridge project can be found here.

 

 

 

 

Another day at the office.

I think that part of our technology agreement with the school system prohibits me from sharing conversations that took place in our staff development today so what follows is what it might sound like if instead of teaching children we were building a house. Beware that it might feel a little Kafka/Gertrude Steinish.

 

Important person enters room and the dialogue begins...

Hello, welcome to the meeting today. We were to be talking about the new housing development but the director of the housing development quit his job yesterday. He did give me his presentation which I will present to you but I'm not terribly informed as to what it means for building houses, as I usually design cities.

What I can tell you is that we hope to have the blueprints by August. They will be in draft form. There may be a delay in blueprints. We will begin building whether we have them or not. One thing I can say for sure is that you WILL NOT be building houses like you did in the past. These new guidelines will change everything you'll ever do. However, we have some friends across town who are building office buildings and they will in general be working with the process of construction that you have used in the past as this process has proven effective and necessary.

Let me touch on a few points, though I'm not sure these will be relevant in a month. Feel free to ask questions as we go along.

Houses af the past are useless. Please discard any thoughts on previous constructions.

Will the houses need roofs?

These houses will be much better than houses with roofs but you might have to put a roof on them. Just not the same one. I can't believe that they haven't done away with roofs in the last 10 years.

Will we still be responsible for landscaping?

I'm glad you asked that. The bathrooms WILL have water we are not certain about the kitchen. Oh, that reminds me, the people working on the office buildings will be using your equipment in the daylight hours. I'm sure with as flexible and understanding as you are, that won't be a problem.

What about the housing inspector? Can we expect regular visits?

As you know, the position of housing inspector was done away with several years ago. The county genealogical society will be coming by periodically to make sure you are hydrated.

Now, I would like all of you to get into groups and make a plan of action for building the houses. I think it's valuable to have all the contractors and subcontractors here. Don't worry about not having the blueprints, just make sure you are doing something new.

(End scene 1. Move to small group scene 2)

(Contractors in italics, sub contractor in regular type.)

Well we've been give our mission, what shall we plan on doing?

We need to be proactive instead of retroactive. We need to make sure the banks are going to fund the project. We need to remind those who are building the office buildings that they will need houses to live in.

Me: what I wish I had said " A riot is an ungly thing... undt, I tink, that it is chust about time ve had vun ..." What I accidentally said and no one made the connection "WE NEED A RIOT" which made me sound a little bit like a crazy person. This means that in spite of my 26 years of experience in building houses, I will likely NOT be asked to be on the project review board. Damn. I think you have to be named Joel to do it anyway.

And then

At the fiber festival it was also dye your poodle day. What you see below is not a tiger but a poodle.

 

While I have no use for it, I love the way this stuff looks.

 

 

I told myself I was not to get anything unless it jumped out of the vendors' hands and into mine.

 

Guess what happened?

 

 

What could I do? Especially when the vendor said it's a great way to use up leftover yarn......

 

Observations before the day begins.

This morning we woke up to a plastic burning bonfire smell wafting through our home. It did not emanate from our house, it was just passing through, like a paper mill on vacation. I called 911 (which you are supposed to do even though it seemed a little non dramatic for such a call).

About 30 minutes later a father and son team arrived in a pick up truck asking if they were in the right place. Yes, it was a toxic burning smell, no it didn't smell like natural gas, yes, it seems to have dissipated a bit since I made the call. Their response? "We'll look into it." It's why I didn't see a whole lot of reason to perform my civic duty by calling in the first place. I feel bad dragging a couple of volunteer firefighters out on a relaxing Saturday morning.

Wait a minute, back up to the question "did it smell like natural gas?" We live smack in the middle of the Marcellus shale seam. You can't walk your dog without running into trenches for pipeline, well digging trucks, pumping stations, tankers dumping non-potable chemically laden water into streams or otherwise. However, if it in fact WAS a burning natural gas smell, I'm pretty certain that a father/son team in a pick up truck with a flashing yellow light would be at most a casualty in an ensuing disaster.

(Insert Western PA accent as appropriate)

Yup, me and my boy here heard you had a stinky smell and we come to check 'er out...KABLOOM!"

I wonder how much Haliburton gives to the local volunteer fire departments. I'd like to respectfully suggest that they consider upping the ante a little.

End of morning observation one.

Today is deliver your big junky garbage to the city building and we' ll get rid of it day. We had some big junky garbage and fortunately have a friend with a truck who said, yea, I'll come by and take it there for you. (What a good friend, right?) when I got home from work yesterday, Mr. Sophanne was on a mission to clear out big junky garbage from our house. I am happy to get rid of big junky garbage. When it comes to carrying to to the big junky garbage pile, I'd really rather wait an hour or two after getting home from work to do it. I'm a big fan of slow transitioning from work to home life. (Read: I need my damn 4:00 nap time)

I asked the Mr. to wait an hour so that I might help carry big heavy junky garbage. He said, no, no, you worked all day, I'll take care of it. Today he is wearing a back brace, and occasionally grumbling in pain. This with the added sneezing discomfort of the morning's stinky smell will mean that it will take some extra effort to make it a good day.

Why do Mr.'s think they can move big heavy things without consequences?

End of morning observation number two.

Wildlife. This morning there were no less than three squirrels in our backyard munching on whirligigs from whichever kind of tree makes them. (Maple?) I let the good dog out and I thought her brain was going to explode. Also spotted last week was a giant bunny daring to nibble on the treats in our yard. Again, the dog was no match for big bunny speed, though I hope it's either a sterile girl bunny or maybe a boy bunny because that dog of mine loves her some baby bunnies (not for food, just for presents.)

I'm wondering if all this wildlife is coming around because they heard me vamping on Iz's Somewhere Over The Rainbow chords last night on the back porch and thought, hey, What a Wonderful World this backyard must be.

End of morning observation number three.

Today is the local Sheep and Fiber festival. I have had three major yarn adventures this year. A trip to Natural Stitches in October, a trip to the Pittsburg Knit and Crochet Festival in February, and a very BIG trip (as in it took nearly two months worth of allowance to cover) to the Mia Sofia yarn store closing in March. Add to that my participation in Stitchjones' Yarnageddon club which delivers two gorgeous skeins every quarter, and the truth is, my yarn basket, shelf, room runneth over. Today I hope to be tagging along, buying nothing, in it only for the post-festival apple dumpling and ice cream treat. Ladies, place your bets.

To be continued...

Mr. Sophanne's new camera and a Mother's Day feast.

Mr. Sophanne bought a new camera. It's his camera. This is a great thing. I don't have sole responsibility of camera activities. He's been shooting the pets a lot and these two are my favorites.

 

If he decides to make this his hobby, I think he has an eye for it. It still takes him, 20 minutes to snap a shot but so it goes. Also I'll have to suggest he fix the time stamp on the camera, but maybe he hasn't gotten that far in the directions yet.

We went to a Mother's Day banquet buffet feast with aunt of Sophanne this weekend. She lives in the town where Dean Martin was born. There is more than one banquet hall that holds dinners such as these for various holidays. Part of Sundays entertainment was a singer a la Michael Bublé. He picked up the mic and said "I'll be entertaining you today." That made me laugh. Then he sang (he had a decent voice) and walked around the room while he was singing. Holy Crack me Up batman! I can't quite put my finger on why I thought it was so hilarious. As you can see below, Aunt loved it. I guess I've just never been that close to what I would consider a lounge singer. If it cracks you up and you figure out why, drop me note, mkay?

 

 

A Vent

This year a new/old school was added to my schedule. I was completely demoralized. I had worked at this school 15 years earlier and was getting comfortable working in the same building with a classroom and equipment every day of the week. I tried to be positive. And in fact I met Newfrienddebbie who is a soul mate kind of good friend, so it wasn't completely horrible.

However, when this happened I was too angry to speak of it much. I knew that there would be no quelling the storm that was raging against the powers that be. Now that there are only a few more days left to teach at this school, it's time to loosen up a little.

The teachers "lounge" is actually a long narrow half of a stage. For the first six months, my official space (where I can leave my coat) was a desk underneath a dripping pipe. One would be sitting there during a planning period having been told that "the drip was fixed' only to discover otherwise with either a wet laptop, lunch, notebook or otherwise.

The stage curtain is all that separates this lounge/work area and elementary kids eating lunch. In late February, in the interest of safe schools a locksmith, appeared to fix the lock on the side door that leads to the stage. All I can figure is that there is some sort of defense shield in place that I don't know about between these two areas.

At one time I had some pictures to share of this area but they were too depressing to run into when I was looking at pictures of the Liza Jane

The principal at this school does a good job, but when it comes to National Teacher's Week, I would rather a short note of appreciation (NOT IN ALL CAPS AS THE NOTE INFORMING US OF OUR GIFT BAG WAS.)

These are the items in the gift bag. Insert appropriate and clever "plays on words" about having "drive" and being a real "gem" and being worth "a million bucks" not realizing that "worth your weight in gold" was a much better match with the waxy chocolate coins.

When traveling from room to room, I roll equipment on a cart when I feel like it. I carry in a ukulele and a Bose iPod dock when I don't. Because most classroom teachers do not give me enough room to actually bring the cart into the room, more often than not I go for the latter. In this particular room, my "place to be" is usually the table pictured below. This afternoon when I entered the room, the classroom teacher said, "I hope my strawberries don't get in your way."

And then later, while I was teaching, she dropped off another container of them. Apparently my "polite grunt of indifference" said to her "Please may I have another?"

 

The number of teachers coming in and out to work in this building exceeds the number of parking spaces available. These spaces are also tightly packed, at an angle, and a little tricky to maneuver. I have been asked to move my car over so that it was a centimeter within the one next to it so that someone else could have enough room to actually get out of their car.

Today as I was attempting to leave I was faced with this:

 

My car is the one trapped between the two cars. Fortunately, I am good friends with the woman who drives the car in front of me. I went to her room, borrowed her keys, double parked her car and while it was running, proceeded to move my car. Before I could put my car in gear someone pulled into the "spot" and tried to block me in again. She backed up and let me out. I informed her that there was another car that had been in that spot that had to be returned there.

She loudly and rudely announced to me that " I AM THE CROSSING GUARD AND I MUST HAVE A PLACE TO PARK! DO YOU EVEN WORK HERE?" (Nevermind that there was a parking place about 10 ft. away in a lot a little further from her crossing guard duties. Also nevermind that all kids had crossed, it was the end of the day and there was absolutely no guarding to do.) she did leave me enough space to slide my friends car back into its place. She was also out of there before I returned to my car.

I know it's small. I know it's petty but my head was ready to explode. I have three more visits to the school. One visit is during the big testing week, one visit is during a scheduled field day (why yes, some schools schedule field day on the music teachers day instead of the physed teacher....NOT) and a program that will be more a casual showcase of third graders rather than an official "thing."

This is a school year that I will not be sad to see pass. Did I mention that I'll be going on an Alaskan cruise this summer? Sometimes I am already there.

 

Further evidence

that Western Pennsylvania and surrounding area (where I live and work)  might be classified as a foreign country.

On this morning's facebook feed:

It was not a joke.  And it was not from an unemployed person just in case you think I'm being heartless.

A day off

I took a personal day today and did personal stuff.  Refiling prescriptions, making dr. check up appointments for myself and the dog, changing sheets, knitting sleeves, etc etc.

Mr Sophanne did a pick up of Chinese food for lunch.  Next to the Chinese food place is a Christian Charities outfit where he browses while waiting for food.

Several months ago he found a nice love seat which we very much needed and paid only $100 for.  Cute, cozy, perfect for the space, and it felt good to be in the reuse-recycle phase of the world.

Today he saw a church pew.  He convinced me to have a look and I was pleased.  We have no real decor in our lives.  It's mostly items gathered before and after marriage- two people living alone throwing their stuff together and slowly deciding what to keep and what to toss.

We now have a church pew.  And I'm not unhappy about it.

Too dumbfounded for a title.

We had a staff development meeting today. A primary focus of the training was that when students come to school, they need to feel welcome, supported, accepted, and safe.

At the end of a discussion regarding policies and practices, the presenter shared this video about mirror neurons. In essence it says that scientists believe that what separated humans from other species as we evolved were these mirror neurons which allow us to feel what others are feeling, even when we aren't actually experiencing it ourselves.

I can verify my experience with this phenomena as I remember nearly diving off my chair during the Summer Olympics and lunging from side to side with the Winter Olympic lugers.  I also regularly twitch with Super Mario when Mr. Sophanne is playing video games.

The main reason for sharing this video was to demonstrate (with the support of scientific research) that the moods and dispositions of teachers have  direct effects on those of their students.

To me, science = cool. Science of the brain = more cooler.

At the end of the presentation, my colleagues were asked to comment and discuss. One teacher said "I quit listening once he said evolution. I didn't come from a monkey." Eight (or more) others said "Me too."

I was incredulous. When I shared this incredulity with what I falsely assumed to be one of my more forward thinking colleagues, she said, "they are entitled to their opinions but they should be informed of the other side."

The most horrifying part to me was that I was the only one that was horrified.

It's science people.

Chicken Bob and the Chicken Pox.

I was principal and secretary at the same time today for about 45 minutes. I saw the action.

 

During Chicken Bob's first grade class, a child came in to see the nurse approximately every 7 minutes (fortunately for all involved I am not and never will be the nurse.) All were complaining of rashes (slightly invisible rashes.) One student lingered after being dismissed by the nurse to tell me that "chicken Bob wants to know what we have and why we all have it." Again, summarily dismissed.

At the end of class Chicken Bob sat down next to the nurses desk and said, "I think we've got chicken pox going around" (something that's has all but vanished since the vaccine). The nurse asked "why do you think so?" Chicken bob replied "that's what the kids told me."

The nurse did some investigating in the first grade classroom. It's common knowledge in the building that first graders learn about life cycles and hatched some eggs just a few weeks ago. Healthy chicks living happily. Not surprisingly, it was interpolated by the first graders that those chickens were indeed the cause of the chicken pox epidemic.

And Chicken Bob, being chicken Bob, believed it.

Here's the cool thing about living where I live.

 

 

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Things finally got real.

At first the most exciting thing I had to post this week was my coffee stained counter and my taco flower.

 

 

I have been more or less obsessed with this dumb game.

 

I also read George Takei's book ""Oh Myyy"

 

But then..... Today happened.

 

Newfrienddebbie and I first went to Ali Baba's for the lunchtime buffet. Mmmmmmmmm.

 

This was followed by a trip to a teeny tiny yarn store called Mia Sofia. This photo really is most of the yarn that they have but it was buy one and get one half off. The chiagoo (or as I like to call them chiagoogoo) needles were part of the same sale. Dare I say I love those needles MORE than Addi's?

 

 

The traffic leaving Mia Sofia was dreadful and required a detour that took us to the other LYS- I can never remember the name of it. The coolest part of this place (in addition to the Noro silk garden I convinced myself to buy) was this yarn swift. It's like my Lazy Susan one but those slanty rods accommodate the changing skein size. It's handmade (of course) and the maker has no interest in marketing.

 

 

The adventure ended at our favorite Terra Cafe where the hilarity of the art was not lost on me. The funniest part of this trip was the confession that newfrienddebbie made regarding her hibernating spring break days. Says she "there's this new app/game called candy crush" (see above) and I can't quit playing it. Come to find we've been living parallel lives all week without knowing it. Today's adventure was the only possible outcome.

Is there not a walk in closet?

I really don't like this carpet. The curb appeal is charming and adorable.

 

Once home I wound two recently acquired balls of yarn (Ella Rae dk) and purchased Stephen West's Daybreak pattern.

Now there is this much done. However I have NOT made it past level 77.

 

 

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Do Not Feel Sorry For This Cat

 

 

All attempts to get her to come inside have failed. She is a martyr. Until there is food involved. But it better be turkey and not hot dogs.

In other food news, Mr. Sophanne and I went for our usual Sunday dinner at Trob Revvens today. Why do we keep going there? Because here in this little Burg of Wayne there are no other options.

Today's dining entertainment involved our waiter Shawn who came to or table to check and see if everything was o.k. three times before the food arrived. Each time we said, everything was fine but would be much better with food. He said "Are you hanging tight?" What does that mean exactly? If it means we're hungry and waiting patiently, then yes, we're "hanging tight."

After much longer than it should have been, he arrived with food saying that "he told the cooks we were hungry and wanted our food" as if that was an exceptional stretch of power on his part. When the pancakes of Mr. Sophanne failed to have the promised whipped topping ( as suggested by Shawn when we ordered), he promptly blamed the cooks, took the pancakes back and returned with a smiley face that had eyebrows. Whipped topping art as it were. Then he stuck around as if we wanted to chat with him. While we usually do, as a general rule, we like to decide whether we're in the mood for that or not.

My family members have regularly informed me that I would be terrible as a waitress. I am happy to report that if I ever lose my teaching job, even I could find employment in the Burg of Wayne.

 

The sleeves to the Welcome Friend Kathy Zimmerman cable sweater that I am calling "Glacier" in hopes to wear it on the Alaskan cruise look like this- about 8" of 22".

 

 

The yarn festival scarf, Man oh Man, which is serving as a distraction from the sleeves, looks like this. Question. Is tencel a natural fiber? I think it's made from wood? This yarn is wool and tencel.

 

 

Given that its spring break, maybe I will find an adventure to have and post about.

 

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The results.

I must tell the truth. While I have most recently embraced a minimalist version of consumerism, making zero extraneous purchases from thanksgiving through Christmas, I make a conscious exception at a yarn festival. I try to save enough prior to going so that money is no object. It's so much fun that way. As much fun, I'm guessing as Mr. Sophanne has at the casino.

First Steven Be. Oh my. I didn't stick around that booth very long. It was just a little over the top for me.

 

His sweater was super sized yarn and camera film. He's hosting a slumber party as I type. It would have been interesting to see what he chose for sleepwear, but not that interesting. Here he is trying to work the credit card iPad combination and I can't help but noticing that he and his customer resemble one another in a small way.

Knitnighttara got to see the bunny out of the cage and grabbed this Instagram photo. Bonus gratitude points to the person who captions this one. That bunny has a Mona Lisa eye.

 

In addition to replacing my peg-missing swift, I made a few purchases.

 

Kauni for a clockwork. I have a clockwork in these colors. I had it with me. I was wearing it earlier in the day. I realized this after the purchase was final. So it goes.

Some shawl pins so that I can wear either purple black gray clockwork without them falling off my shoulders.

Some gorgeous Brooks Farms merino and a scarf pattern called man oh man.

A cool spirally shawl with a yarn color our of my comfort zone. I ceased all purchases after that one. Colors one doesn't normally get are a sign that one is buying for the sake of buying.

Finally a late lunch at a Middle Eastern place called Aladdin's. Everyone seems to be just a little annoyed at my "picture taking to blog later" self. Out of respect for them, I smoothied their faces. Enjoying the smoothie tool, I also smoothied some of the tableware and the windows. What a fun day.

End of results.

 

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Pittsburgh knit and crochet festival 2013- pregame

 

I've been to the Pittsburgh knit and crochet festival twice.

I don't remember but I think I went with knitnightclaire in 2008. It was my first cashmere, my first swift, my first drop spindle and one of my first attempts at getting past the social anxiety that has always been a part of my life.

I went alone in 2009. They changed locations. I dropped mr. Sophanne off at the casino and went in the cold February rain. I'm pretty sure this was a conscious choice. People make me nervous and I wanted to enjoy the yarn. In spite of that, I wore my Central Park hoodie hoping that it was such a recognizable pattern that people would notice it and magically be my friend. Later I sat in front of a hotel fireplace with other knitters pretending to be part of their group. Lacking adult supervision, I purchased blocking wires and a felted tea cozy pattern that looked like an orange slice. The blocking wires have been used minimally. The fruit slice was used as a hat once and discarded.

 

 

The 2009 trip reminds me of the dog pre-bath time. She play bows as I go for her and in the next moment runs away barking because I say the word bath. She is a dog conflicted. I was a social being conflicted.

Tomorrow I will be at the festival with three knitting friends gathering from hither and yon to travel together in knitnightgina's van. It is likely that I will run into another friend who is going as well.

In addition to the fine and sometimes not so fine items I have made, the greatest gift of knitting has been the funny laughing friends and the slow process of relaxing in and enjoying the company of others. If I have to increase my yarn stash as part of the process, that's a sacrifice I am willing to make.

And tomorrow if I see someone wandering alone in a hand knit sweater, I will welcome him/her and bring him/her into the fold.

 

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What's for dessert, you ask?

 

 

Anyone who has known me for a long time, likely looked at the previous post and thought, "man o day, that Sophanne hasn't said no to too many desserts lately." That much is true. Mmmmm...ice cream. But I digress. What you see above is what I say no to ON A NIGHTLY BASIS. Yes, this is Mr. Sophanne's bedtime snack. Unless its a birthday, you won't see him indulge during the day whereas I will eat any treat, any time, except at bedtime. Maybe there is method to his madness.

 

In other Mr. Sophanne news, he is in the process of applying for early retirement. As a result, he does not go to work anymore. I would enjoy this much more if I also did not have to go to work but such is not the case. So far he has spent each day working a full 8 hours filling out forms, making phone calls to bureaucracies and government agencies and visiting doctors offices bearing gifts of donuts and cookies.

All is well and it's all good- not to worry- but there has been some adjusting to do. As you might imagine, the cute LizaJane I thrilled.

In other news, hey medical friends, what is the likelihood of a false negative on those instant strep tests. The 10 minut culture test says no, but my body says otherwise. The CNP must have been doubtful as well, as she gave me strep fighting meds and I've heard those are harder to get lately.

I am grateful for those meds. The Pittsburgh knit and crochet festival is this weekend and we're having a little mini knit night field trip. Plus newfrienddebbie is going to get her first experience of fiber overload and new knit friends. Aren't you so excited for her?!?!

 

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The not really a doctor but I play one at knit night is in.

Above you see knitnightmedstudentJustine demonstrating how to suture. Below you see what I look like after a day of work when I get to have real medical instruments in my hands. Note to self- put on a little makeup before knit night, wouldja?

 

Maybe you can see on the side, I've started the sleeves to the Kathy Zimmerman sweater. I ordered the last just in case skein of yarn... Just in case.

I have some achey streppy action going on today. Maybe the Panera's pretend hospital is has as many bugs floating around as the real hospital.

As newfrienddebbie says, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, when someone (not me) has to cut her infected hand off, I will be able to sew the pieces back together, knit a glove for her, and soothe her with song as I do it.

 

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Garlic - o - Butt and some random

Now that I see it on the blog page, I'm pretty sure I've posted this before but maybe you forgot and will laugh again.  The latest Nutella rage that has me cracking up over spreads.

I'm knitting the cable sweater, some lace and finishing a pair of felted clogs for the Mr. today.

In other funny, there is a custodian that I know that has been given multiple jobs to do at once in his school.  He must enter lunch numbers into a computer, lock the doors, scrape the trays, and take care of any spills or messes that occur.  

It's a little over the top but it's what happens when there aren't enough people to do everything.  

Last week I suggested to him that because he doesn't have enough to do that he should provide some entertainment in the cafeteria.  Without pause for thought he said, "Oh yes, I've got a puppet show lined up for today and for the adult entertainment, I've ordered a pole for next week."

In movie news, the Mr. and I watched Monsieur Verdoux with a talking and directing Charlie Chaplin last night.  What a movie.  What begins as a farce about a man who is a "bluebeard" (I had never heard that term before last night) - someone who marries for money and then kills his spouses- turns into a treatise on war that kills millions versus people who murder.  I'm guessing it's where this line came from:  If you kill millions in war, you're a hero but if you murder one, you're a criminal."  I'm not getting all political here, it was just a peculiar movie (1947) that left an impression.

My favorite line in it (one I'm sure I'll remember when the drugs stop working) is 

Despair is a narcotic that lulls one into indifference.

It won and Academy Award nomination for the screenplay but was panned by the critics.  I'm guessing the change in tone didn't win them over, and apparently the perceived trivialization of murder was offensive to them as well.

End of random.