Elizabeth Moon's Blog, page 10
December 4, 2015
Bread Pudding For the First Time
...it will not be the last. I had never made bread pudding before, and don't think I'd ever eaten it, but after seeing some on TV cooking shows, and hearing about it....
I could not get a picture taken before the spoon went in. This is bread pudding with diced Honeycrisp apple in it (about 5/8 of the apple, something over a cup of the diced apple, went in.
I looked at several recipes online. The one for apple bread pudding needed 10 cups of cubed bread; I didn't have that much. Two of them needed 6 cups of cubed bread; I had too much. The big recipe used 4 eggs, and the small one 2 eggs. So for the various amounts I kind of...felt my way.
2 cups milk
3 beaten eggs
1/2 cup plus a smidgen (having tasted the apples) of plain white sugar
1/4 cup butter
6 1/2 - 7 cups bread cubes
unmeasured (1-2 cups fit in that bowl) diced apple (small dice), unpeeled
1/2 tablespoon vanilla
1 teaspoon cinnamon
Brown sugar sprinkled on top.
The bread was almost half a loaf of supermarket bakery's "Country French" (a round-loafed bread we like a lot for sandwiches and toast)--it had gone a little hard on the outside because we'd been eating Thanksgiving leftovers. I left the crust on when I cut it up. Some cubes had crust on one side; some didn't.
I'd heard/read/been told that bread pudding was simple. I've been told that about things that weren't, too. But this...yes, once the prep was done--slicing the bread, dicing the apples--the rest was simple. Butter the casserole. Melt the butter in the milk as the milk warms, put that in a bowl, add the sugar and stir, let it cool a bit while dicing the apple and then lightly beating the three eggs in another bowl. Then all the liquids together, all the bread cubes and apple dice-bits into the casserole and pour the liquids over...push down into the liquid (and let it rise again.) Brown sugar on top, into the oven, wait. And wait. (Our oven is not the fastest oven in the world.) The smell...and then the flavor and texture and...I will be making this again.
I could not get a picture taken before the spoon went in. This is bread pudding with diced Honeycrisp apple in it (about 5/8 of the apple, something over a cup of the diced apple, went in.
I looked at several recipes online. The one for apple bread pudding needed 10 cups of cubed bread; I didn't have that much. Two of them needed 6 cups of cubed bread; I had too much. The big recipe used 4 eggs, and the small one 2 eggs. So for the various amounts I kind of...felt my way.
2 cups milk
3 beaten eggs
1/2 cup plus a smidgen (having tasted the apples) of plain white sugar
1/4 cup butter
6 1/2 - 7 cups bread cubes
unmeasured (1-2 cups fit in that bowl) diced apple (small dice), unpeeled
1/2 tablespoon vanilla
1 teaspoon cinnamon
Brown sugar sprinkled on top.
The bread was almost half a loaf of supermarket bakery's "Country French" (a round-loafed bread we like a lot for sandwiches and toast)--it had gone a little hard on the outside because we'd been eating Thanksgiving leftovers. I left the crust on when I cut it up. Some cubes had crust on one side; some didn't.
I'd heard/read/been told that bread pudding was simple. I've been told that about things that weren't, too. But this...yes, once the prep was done--slicing the bread, dicing the apples--the rest was simple. Butter the casserole. Melt the butter in the milk as the milk warms, put that in a bowl, add the sugar and stir, let it cool a bit while dicing the apple and then lightly beating the three eggs in another bowl. Then all the liquids together, all the bread cubes and apple dice-bits into the casserole and pour the liquids over...push down into the liquid (and let it rise again.) Brown sugar on top, into the oven, wait. And wait. (Our oven is not the fastest oven in the world.) The smell...and then the flavor and texture and...I will be making this again.
December 1, 2015
Writer Waves at Departing Manuscript
Writers do get used to this, but it's always a poignant moment. You've birthed them, raised them up (you hope right), dressed them nicely, polished their shoes, reminded them to clean their teeth and wash behind their ears and be polite, brushed their hair one last time...and then it's onto the train or bus (or high speed internet) and away they go to the Big City. Where they will be scrutinized by Agent, Editor, and anyone else those august beings allow...judges on the evenness of their hem, as well as the attractiveness (or not) of their overall appearance and the quality of their talent.
With books as with youngsters heading to the big city to become a singer/dancer/songwriter/composer/musician/painter/writer/actor...their talent will be judged strictly, and not always accurately. The writer's bonny manuscript-child may face rounds of "don't call us; we'll call you if..." without callbacks, despite having what it takes to shine on Broadway or at the Met-equivalents for books. Or the writer may have failed to recognize that this particular book-child just does not have it--and instead should have been kept close to home and told that Cinderella in her drudge phase is a great opportunity for spiritual growth. Not everyone succeeds in New York. Still, every book needs a break, just like every talented person, and writers always hope theirs gets one..
COLD WELCOME boarded the Internet Express this morning, It's number twenty-seven in the count of my novels, though who's counting? (ME!) its younger sibling will start the road to publication in a couple of days. Today I'm too tired, and tomorrow the tree removal people will be chain-sawing right outside this window. I intend to flee to someplace quieter.
With books as with youngsters heading to the big city to become a singer/dancer/songwriter/composer/musician/painter/writer/actor...their talent will be judged strictly, and not always accurately. The writer's bonny manuscript-child may face rounds of "don't call us; we'll call you if..." without callbacks, despite having what it takes to shine on Broadway or at the Met-equivalents for books. Or the writer may have failed to recognize that this particular book-child just does not have it--and instead should have been kept close to home and told that Cinderella in her drudge phase is a great opportunity for spiritual growth. Not everyone succeeds in New York. Still, every book needs a break, just like every talented person, and writers always hope theirs gets one..
COLD WELCOME boarded the Internet Express this morning, It's number twenty-seven in the count of my novels, though who's counting? (ME!) its younger sibling will start the road to publication in a couple of days. Today I'm too tired, and tomorrow the tree removal people will be chain-sawing right outside this window. I intend to flee to someplace quieter.
November 24, 2015
In Case You Wondered...
...why, with all the total insanity going on in the world, I've spent time posting innocuous things here--like finishing the purple socks, starting roof repair, refurbishing a living room--does it mean I don't care? (the common attack when someone isn't talking about whatever your favorite problem is) or I'm too stupid to realize what's happening? Er...no. It means I thought it might be useful to more than me to have a space set aside from noise and chaos for a few weeks, where others might spend a few minutes being reminded what it is all the screaming and shouting and threatening and counter-threatening and name-calling is about. Those things that most people really want: a safe place to eat and sleep and welcome into a home friends and neighbors. Things too many people in the world don't have, but that some of us do have, and have only so long as civilization--including civility, the ability to get along with each other--exists. So the pictures of socks--that most humble of garments--and the disappearance of a danger to ourselves and neighbors in the dying tree--and the change in a single smallish room in a single ordinary house are there to say "This is still here. The quiet places. The steady day to day work of the roofers, the carpet layers, the tree removers, the furniture makers and the delivery men on the truck, and those who keep the electrons flowing in the wires, and mend roads, and haul food from warehouses to stores...it goes on, and it goes on because we notice it enough to keep it going on."
Knitting socks is one symbol of this: of infrstructure maintenance, of a sort, of people doing something constructive to make things better. So is replacing a leaky roof, cutting down a dangerous dying tree, saving the chopped up limbs and leaves to use as mulch, turning an uncomfortable and ugly space into a comfortable, serene refuge for people to enjoy. That's what these posts have been about--things ordinary people can do, and many accomplish, that--multiplied across neighborhoods, towns, cities, countries--make things better in the face of the determination of others to destroy things and make things worse. Things that must not be forgotten, in the scary chaos of the news--because these things are upheld by our awareness of them and by our practice of them.
So what about Thanksgiving in the face of all the anger, fear, hatred, and those who want everyone to be afraid, angry, and hating? It's another tool for civilization and civility, Thanksgiving and the thankfulness the holiday is meant to inspire. Gratitude enables actions that anger, fear, and hatred cannot enable. Thankfulness makes possible a mind open to possibilities, to imagination of better futures, that anger, fear, and hatred cannot contemplate. Those who want to control everyone, manipulate everyone, know that scared people are easy to make angry, and thus to make hate...and thus easy to shape into a mob that wants to destroy. And those bullies (for that is what they are) oppose holidays like Thanksgiving as mere sensual excess (which mere underlings are never supposed to have.) They exist on every side of every conflict, saying "How can you enjoy yourself while [this other] is happening--it means you're bad, thoughtless, uncaring." No. It means you're defiant. Quietly defiant, carrying on a civilized meal in spite of demands to obey the bullies. (OK, if you have a warlike family, then maybe not. But there's a way to avoid that, at the cost of a brief discomfort--saying "No" to those who think you should come be miserable for four hours or so while they rant at each other. Your choice.)
I have plenty to say about certain politicians and candidates and foreign leaders and movements and so on, much of which I've said elsewhere, online and off. Including to the complete idiots who are supposedly my representatives in our government, most of whom are practiced at making things worse. I am not immune to what's going on. But--long, long ago my mother taught me three things to do when the world (near or far) was going crazy: 1) help somebody who needs help and 2) make something useful and 3) clean up a nearby mess. The helping part is not to be displayed, but the making something useful and cleaning up a mess can be.
I hope Thanksgiving dinner comes off well this year (the book deadline, the repairs & restorations, and Thanksgiving all collided.) I'm glad most of my guests are returning ones and thus likely to be forgiving if the pumpkin pie or the gingerbread-apple-walnut loaf is sticky in the middle. I'm glad for the new guests, too, and hope they enjoy themselves. (And now, back to the book. To be followed by...more prep for T-day.)
Knitting socks is one symbol of this: of infrstructure maintenance, of a sort, of people doing something constructive to make things better. So is replacing a leaky roof, cutting down a dangerous dying tree, saving the chopped up limbs and leaves to use as mulch, turning an uncomfortable and ugly space into a comfortable, serene refuge for people to enjoy. That's what these posts have been about--things ordinary people can do, and many accomplish, that--multiplied across neighborhoods, towns, cities, countries--make things better in the face of the determination of others to destroy things and make things worse. Things that must not be forgotten, in the scary chaos of the news--because these things are upheld by our awareness of them and by our practice of them.
So what about Thanksgiving in the face of all the anger, fear, hatred, and those who want everyone to be afraid, angry, and hating? It's another tool for civilization and civility, Thanksgiving and the thankfulness the holiday is meant to inspire. Gratitude enables actions that anger, fear, and hatred cannot enable. Thankfulness makes possible a mind open to possibilities, to imagination of better futures, that anger, fear, and hatred cannot contemplate. Those who want to control everyone, manipulate everyone, know that scared people are easy to make angry, and thus to make hate...and thus easy to shape into a mob that wants to destroy. And those bullies (for that is what they are) oppose holidays like Thanksgiving as mere sensual excess (which mere underlings are never supposed to have.) They exist on every side of every conflict, saying "How can you enjoy yourself while [this other] is happening--it means you're bad, thoughtless, uncaring." No. It means you're defiant. Quietly defiant, carrying on a civilized meal in spite of demands to obey the bullies. (OK, if you have a warlike family, then maybe not. But there's a way to avoid that, at the cost of a brief discomfort--saying "No" to those who think you should come be miserable for four hours or so while they rant at each other. Your choice.)
I have plenty to say about certain politicians and candidates and foreign leaders and movements and so on, much of which I've said elsewhere, online and off. Including to the complete idiots who are supposedly my representatives in our government, most of whom are practiced at making things worse. I am not immune to what's going on. But--long, long ago my mother taught me three things to do when the world (near or far) was going crazy: 1) help somebody who needs help and 2) make something useful and 3) clean up a nearby mess. The helping part is not to be displayed, but the making something useful and cleaning up a mess can be.
I hope Thanksgiving dinner comes off well this year (the book deadline, the repairs & restorations, and Thanksgiving all collided.) I'm glad most of my guests are returning ones and thus likely to be forgiving if the pumpkin pie or the gingerbread-apple-walnut loaf is sticky in the middle. I'm glad for the new guests, too, and hope they enjoy themselves. (And now, back to the book. To be followed by...more prep for T-day.)
November 23, 2015
Living Room Develops (so does the roof)
The living room began to look civilized with the new sofa and loveseat, and the pillows (theirs and mine), but it wasn't done (and still isn't, quite.) We moved the old secretary back in there with the pretty bits of mismatched china in the top. Found the small area rug in intense greens to put between the sofa and love seat. I moved the old carved chess table to a new temporary home at one end of the sofa. An old afghan my great-grandmother, great-aunt, and mother made moved in, and a couple of woven throws useful in this season. And a floor lamp to brighten one dark corner (there will be more additional light in the room eventually.)
View from the hall
As with cooking, every addition helps the room come alive (too many won't!) and adds layers of interest rather than flavor. Pillows my mother made and/or made needlepoint covers for. The rug, The old afghan. The new light.
Eventually, small end tables, with lamps (or one with a lamp, anyway, if I leave the floor lamp where it is. If two table lamps, the floor lamp will move to its diagonally opposite corner; it not another another floor lamp will go there.) Some kind of table between the sofa and love seat for plates, drinks, and feet. But it's certainly looking way better than it did before.
Outside, the roof is nearing completion. Light green metal (to match our roof at the other house, the barn, and the rain barns)
View from the hall
As with cooking, every addition helps the room come alive (too many won't!) and adds layers of interest rather than flavor. Pillows my mother made and/or made needlepoint covers for. The rug, The old afghan. The new light.
Eventually, small end tables, with lamps (or one with a lamp, anyway, if I leave the floor lamp where it is. If two table lamps, the floor lamp will move to its diagonally opposite corner; it not another another floor lamp will go there.) Some kind of table between the sofa and love seat for plates, drinks, and feet. But it's certainly looking way better than it did before.
Outside, the roof is nearing completion. Light green metal (to match our roof at the other house, the barn, and the rain barns)
November 19, 2015
Furniture Installation
The furniture delivery came hours early, which meant that daylight through the one window could give a more accurate picture of the color. Although not completely, since they're both the same and somewhere in between the light and the darker. They look terrific against the new pale gray carpet. All the pillows but one on the couch I already had--my mother did the needlepoint birds in the small square ones and found the chintz in a fabric store--made the two rectangular ones. The chintz ones might have been made for it, the colors look so good. The fat square one in the middle came with the furniture (as did the stack beside the couch--four pillows for each.
The painting above was my mother's, and I disliked it for years--but it looks a lot better hanging over this couch than it did before. Still not crazy about it.
Right now, the loveseat is positioned to make a conversation area with the couch, without getting in the way of traffic from the front door to the kitchen. Those doors are awkwardly placed--not quite directly across from each other, and cutting the living room into two trapezoids if you draw a line on the floor. That wouldn't matter in a bigger room, but this one isn't very big. Still, I think this arrangement will work, at least for next week. There's another place in the house the love seat would be good (the large bedroom) and the right chairs would be a little more flexible in the living room.
This view is toward the front door (that narrow little door is for a coat closet.) The very yellow light from right above the love seat (another legacy of the previous owner--there's a low-hanging ceiling fan ready to bash tall visitors shows on the love seat's cushions, but on the front you can see it matches the couch perfectly. Something narrow will eventually go in between the couch and love seat as a coffee-table/footrest, as well as end tables for the cough with good lamps to read by on them. But none of that can be done by Thanksgiving, because of the book nearing completion (and due Dec. 1) and Thanksgiving itself, the prep and all.
The furniture's comfortably soft, but still supportive. I like it a lot.
The painting above was my mother's, and I disliked it for years--but it looks a lot better hanging over this couch than it did before. Still not crazy about it.
Right now, the loveseat is positioned to make a conversation area with the couch, without getting in the way of traffic from the front door to the kitchen. Those doors are awkwardly placed--not quite directly across from each other, and cutting the living room into two trapezoids if you draw a line on the floor. That wouldn't matter in a bigger room, but this one isn't very big. Still, I think this arrangement will work, at least for next week. There's another place in the house the love seat would be good (the large bedroom) and the right chairs would be a little more flexible in the living room.
This view is toward the front door (that narrow little door is for a coat closet.) The very yellow light from right above the love seat (another legacy of the previous owner--there's a low-hanging ceiling fan ready to bash tall visitors shows on the love seat's cushions, but on the front you can see it matches the couch perfectly. Something narrow will eventually go in between the couch and love seat as a coffee-table/footrest, as well as end tables for the cough with good lamps to read by on them. But none of that can be done by Thanksgiving, because of the book nearing completion (and due Dec. 1) and Thanksgiving itself, the prep and all.
The furniture's comfortably soft, but still supportive. I like it a lot.
November 16, 2015
More things...
Today the tree removers are coming to take down the old ash tree in the front yard of the other house, the house where the roofing job is partly done, the new carpet is in, and people will arrive on Thanksgiving for a meal. Here's why the tree needs removal:
It's 34 inches in diameter at chest height on the trunk, which is partly rotten, and soem of the large branches (like the one shown stuck in the ground from a previous storm break) are completely rotten. It's twice as high as the house, though some of the top has already come down on its own. It's easily capable of dropping lethal limbs into the street, the neighbor's yard, or onto the roof that has only its plastic skin on at the moment. A danger to neighbors, guests, roofers, the furniture people who will come on Thursday.
When we were younger, we might have (foolishly) tackled this job ourselves, but no one here can handle a big chain saw anymore, or has any business going up a ladder on a partly-rotten tree. The tree removal people brought four trucks, a crane, and a crew of experienced guys to take it down. Worth the cost. Glad we can afford to have it done.
We're very glad the tree guys rescheduled for today (though it's raining lightly) because there's a storm expected to produce high straight-line winds, up to 60 mph, tonight. This old tree used to shade the entire front yard and the front bedroom--valuable in summer--but it's a danger now and must go.
The tree crew at work:
You can see the cut ends of the larger branches and a bit of the white bucket where the man is cutting them off. The truck nearest is a chipper. Some of the branch cuts show healthy wood all through; others have a dark rotten core. Can't really tell from outside, which is why the tree needed to come down, not just be pruned.
All the top stuff off, trimming down the main trunk and branches
And then removing the cut limbs and trunk pieces with a clever little machine...
Notice the rotted out part in some limbs and this chunk of trunk. The lowest part of the trunk showed no rot at all.
It's hard not to stand around and watch the whole thing.
It's 34 inches in diameter at chest height on the trunk, which is partly rotten, and soem of the large branches (like the one shown stuck in the ground from a previous storm break) are completely rotten. It's twice as high as the house, though some of the top has already come down on its own. It's easily capable of dropping lethal limbs into the street, the neighbor's yard, or onto the roof that has only its plastic skin on at the moment. A danger to neighbors, guests, roofers, the furniture people who will come on Thursday.
When we were younger, we might have (foolishly) tackled this job ourselves, but no one here can handle a big chain saw anymore, or has any business going up a ladder on a partly-rotten tree. The tree removal people brought four trucks, a crane, and a crew of experienced guys to take it down. Worth the cost. Glad we can afford to have it done.
We're very glad the tree guys rescheduled for today (though it's raining lightly) because there's a storm expected to produce high straight-line winds, up to 60 mph, tonight. This old tree used to shade the entire front yard and the front bedroom--valuable in summer--but it's a danger now and must go.
The tree crew at work:
You can see the cut ends of the larger branches and a bit of the white bucket where the man is cutting them off. The truck nearest is a chipper. Some of the branch cuts show healthy wood all through; others have a dark rotten core. Can't really tell from outside, which is why the tree needed to come down, not just be pruned.
All the top stuff off, trimming down the main trunk and branches
And then removing the cut limbs and trunk pieces with a clever little machine...
Notice the rotted out part in some limbs and this chunk of trunk. The lowest part of the trunk showed no rot at all.
It's hard not to stand around and watch the whole thing.
November 9, 2015
Many Things Have Happened...
Thanks to an inheritance, it became possible to do some repairs and refurbishments in the house my mother owned, that we use regularly for guests and entertaining. Fixing the roof was one priority--the back room has been leaking in some (not all) rains for years, and when it leaks it leaks a lot. It leaked right before the roof was torn off, when we had the heavy downpours. A previous fix lasted maybe 10 - 15 years, but flat roofs just have a propensity to develop leaks. The main part of the house had hail damage and tree limb damage, though it wasn't leaking (yet.) The first roofer didn't show up when he said he would, and didn't call, so after a week or two I went looking for another roofer. Who got the old roof off, and the underlayment and "skin" of a new roof on before the next deluge...and the roof didn't leak. There was much rejoicing when the green "wormer" buckets sitting on the table were dry!
Eventually, a metal roof will be up there, but it's not there yet. Next...the carpeted areas in that house needed work. The living room carpet (possibly original to the house) had worn to holes, so the vacuum cleaner grabbed the edges and made things worse. The pad under it was also worn to nothing in places. The bedroom carpets also need changing or replacing by refinishing the wood floors, but we didn't have time (or the workforce to move furniture around) for that.
Here's a picture of the roof in the process of removal:
The new roof will be green metal, when the metal comes in. Except for the back room which will have a heavy, thick white membrane thing.
The carpet has no "before" picture (be glad--just imagine old, stained, beaten up and worn down carpet in one of those "sculpted" styles from way back. Originally gray, but stained in places.) This is the new carpet, installed. It's got a subtle pattern that doesn't show up well in the flash pictures. It's very pleasant to walk on. The furniture that used to be in this room was mostly original to the house. My mother liked it OK. I did not. She died 25 years ago in October, so I don't think I was hasty in sending it away to a new home a few weeks ago.
The pattern is just visible here. LR Hall--LR door to the left.
We had a flood in the near meadow, trees and large limbs and old stumps down in the yards & elsewhere, and altogether a very busy time since the last post. OTOH, 12 and a half inches (roughly) in less than three weeks turned things green, after the lack of rain from the third week in June until the third week in October.
It comes back fast after a drought.
Eventually, a metal roof will be up there, but it's not there yet. Next...the carpeted areas in that house needed work. The living room carpet (possibly original to the house) had worn to holes, so the vacuum cleaner grabbed the edges and made things worse. The pad under it was also worn to nothing in places. The bedroom carpets also need changing or replacing by refinishing the wood floors, but we didn't have time (or the workforce to move furniture around) for that.
Here's a picture of the roof in the process of removal:
The new roof will be green metal, when the metal comes in. Except for the back room which will have a heavy, thick white membrane thing.The carpet has no "before" picture (be glad--just imagine old, stained, beaten up and worn down carpet in one of those "sculpted" styles from way back. Originally gray, but stained in places.) This is the new carpet, installed. It's got a subtle pattern that doesn't show up well in the flash pictures. It's very pleasant to walk on. The furniture that used to be in this room was mostly original to the house. My mother liked it OK. I did not. She died 25 years ago in October, so I don't think I was hasty in sending it away to a new home a few weeks ago.
The pattern is just visible here. LR Hall--LR door to the left.
We had a flood in the near meadow, trees and large limbs and old stumps down in the yards & elsewhere, and altogether a very busy time since the last post. OTOH, 12 and a half inches (roughly) in less than three weeks turned things green, after the lack of rain from the third week in June until the third week in October.
It comes back fast after a drought.
September 27, 2015
And they're done...
Purple!
Standing on the old concrete driveway...yes, there's a right & a left sock.
They will be worn today, so my feet can "set" them to my shape even more than the knitting itself did, and then I'll wash them tomorrow and they'll go into the normal rotation.
This is the 44th or 45th pair I've completed since I started, the 8th pair (7 for me, one for a friend) this year (plus of course the 7 pairs of short socks.) At the moment (I just counted) I have 22 pairs of "regular" socks--these crew socks. However, at least three pair are quite worn (knit the first year, or early in the second, heavily worn because of the short rotation), and likely to fail soon. The plan for the rest of the year includes finishing the Walnut Heather socks (previous posts) for my friend, and then two more pairs for me, one turquoise and one Herdwick. With luck, the oldest, most worn pairs won't give up until I've knit their replacements. Then next year I will need to knit 7 pairs minimum to bring the rotation to a full four-week one (every additional week in the rotation adds approximately two years of sock-life to a sock starting in that rotation and extends the life of socks that started in a shorter one.) I have only two turquoise pairs, so turquoise will be the next color up. I'll also do a Herdwick, to bring that up to three--I wear them only in the coldest weather here, but two is not enough. They take longer to dry.
There's plenty to do to keep the needles warm for someone who wants handknit socks on her feet the rest of her life, but recognizes that eyesight may fail before that. So it's knit'em up now, to get ahead and have either a very long rotation (long enough to reach the end) or a big backlog. Rotating them is better for the socks.
There is a problem on the bottom of the left sock, which I probably made because I was sick, and was picking up a sock to work on whenever I could, since I couldn't sit up long enough to do anything worthwhile on the computer. It makes me feel useful, but it also leads to errors. In this case, the next day I thought of a clever way to fix the mistake (you see this coming, right) and made things *worse*. And then tried to fix that, while still sick. Sort of fixed it. Not perfectly fixed it. So there's reinforcement to be done on that sock, but it won't matter that I finished it or that I wear it today. Really. Trust me. I have seen worse bottoms-of-socks coming off my needles and fixed them enough to be wearable for quite awhile. No, I'm not going to show you.
Standing on the old concrete driveway...yes, there's a right & a left sock.They will be worn today, so my feet can "set" them to my shape even more than the knitting itself did, and then I'll wash them tomorrow and they'll go into the normal rotation.
This is the 44th or 45th pair I've completed since I started, the 8th pair (7 for me, one for a friend) this year (plus of course the 7 pairs of short socks.) At the moment (I just counted) I have 22 pairs of "regular" socks--these crew socks. However, at least three pair are quite worn (knit the first year, or early in the second, heavily worn because of the short rotation), and likely to fail soon. The plan for the rest of the year includes finishing the Walnut Heather socks (previous posts) for my friend, and then two more pairs for me, one turquoise and one Herdwick. With luck, the oldest, most worn pairs won't give up until I've knit their replacements. Then next year I will need to knit 7 pairs minimum to bring the rotation to a full four-week one (every additional week in the rotation adds approximately two years of sock-life to a sock starting in that rotation and extends the life of socks that started in a shorter one.) I have only two turquoise pairs, so turquoise will be the next color up. I'll also do a Herdwick, to bring that up to three--I wear them only in the coldest weather here, but two is not enough. They take longer to dry.
There's plenty to do to keep the needles warm for someone who wants handknit socks on her feet the rest of her life, but recognizes that eyesight may fail before that. So it's knit'em up now, to get ahead and have either a very long rotation (long enough to reach the end) or a big backlog. Rotating them is better for the socks.
There is a problem on the bottom of the left sock, which I probably made because I was sick, and was picking up a sock to work on whenever I could, since I couldn't sit up long enough to do anything worthwhile on the computer. It makes me feel useful, but it also leads to errors. In this case, the next day I thought of a clever way to fix the mistake (you see this coming, right) and made things *worse*. And then tried to fix that, while still sick. Sort of fixed it. Not perfectly fixed it. So there's reinforcement to be done on that sock, but it won't matter that I finished it or that I wear it today. Really. Trust me. I have seen worse bottoms-of-socks coming off my needles and fixed them enough to be wearable for quite awhile. No, I'm not going to show you.
September 23, 2015
Sock Interlude
Socks in progress on September 22, 2015:
The brown socks on the left are for my friend K-, who lives in upstate New York. The left one of the pair took a trip to see her because I was suddenly unsure of the measurement (the stitch count was right, the needles were the same size as on the other two pairs I've made her, but...very different yarn. Others were made of an acrylic/wool blend that was at least 50 years old. This is contemporary 100% wool.)
It came back today; she said it fit fine. You might notice four different colors of needles in the brown pair. I inherited from my mother two sets of four size 4 US double-pointed needles: those are the dark rose and the green. Although the original packaging was long gone by the time I found them in a pair of partly-knit socks, I know she bought Susan Bates (tm) needles back in the 1960s or before. I prefer to knit in the round with five DPNs (less laddering problem between needles.) So I needed more. The purple (lowest needle showing in the sock on the right side) is a Hobby Lobby size 4, and not a needle I'd recommend. Not slippery enough with wool yarn. Feels OK in the hand when new, but doesn't let yarn slide easily and after not-much-use the color wears off and it doesn't feel as good in the hand as the old needles. The pale pink (in the sock on the left, showing between a dark pink above and a green below) is a new Susan Bates(tm) "Silvalume" size 4. Although it's not as slick as the old ones (which after all were polished by years of my mother's knitting) it's also not as "sticky" as the Hobby Lobby one. I'm hoping the new Susan Bates (tm) needles slick up with use. I now have enough (including my mother's) to keep two pairs of socks going + some mitts. The yarn here is Cascade 220 "Walnut Heather" # 8013; it's one that K- picked out online.
The purple socks on the right are for me. The cuff looks shorter because a) those cuffs are an inch shorter than K- likes (but this length works for me, in a warmer climate) and b) my legs and feet are bigger than hers, so the foot is longer in proportion. I would need 8 or 9 inch cuffs to have it look the same and that's way too hot for where I live.
The purples should be finished in the next day or so, as I'm still sick and I do more knitting when sick. They're just about to start the toe decreases. Here the needles are all size 5s, plain aluminum. They've gotten slicker with the 40-odd pairs of socks I've knit with them.
That purple yarn is Cascade 220 Purple Jewel Heather, #7811 one of the five basic colors I use. It's as pretty as the Superwash purple I bought years back--the first purples I made--and then discovered the yarn stretches out with washing. The next purple pair I made were Plymouth Yarns Galway Nep (discontinued) in purple (on the right below) but it was a "duller" purple, even when enlivened by the multi-colored "neps.) Now I'm trying this color and another Cascade 220 purple to see which I like. Then I'll buy some more of it to have ready for the next round. (Haven't decided what to do with the purple Superwash I bought...have considered knitting it in a tighter gauge. I may make K- a pair to see how she likes Superwash wool socks.)
Previous purple socks:
Cascade 220 Superwash purple The purple Plymouth Yarns Galway Nep with the
first shorty sock being tried on over it for heel turn
The brown socks on the left are for my friend K-, who lives in upstate New York. The left one of the pair took a trip to see her because I was suddenly unsure of the measurement (the stitch count was right, the needles were the same size as on the other two pairs I've made her, but...very different yarn. Others were made of an acrylic/wool blend that was at least 50 years old. This is contemporary 100% wool.)
It came back today; she said it fit fine. You might notice four different colors of needles in the brown pair. I inherited from my mother two sets of four size 4 US double-pointed needles: those are the dark rose and the green. Although the original packaging was long gone by the time I found them in a pair of partly-knit socks, I know she bought Susan Bates (tm) needles back in the 1960s or before. I prefer to knit in the round with five DPNs (less laddering problem between needles.) So I needed more. The purple (lowest needle showing in the sock on the right side) is a Hobby Lobby size 4, and not a needle I'd recommend. Not slippery enough with wool yarn. Feels OK in the hand when new, but doesn't let yarn slide easily and after not-much-use the color wears off and it doesn't feel as good in the hand as the old needles. The pale pink (in the sock on the left, showing between a dark pink above and a green below) is a new Susan Bates(tm) "Silvalume" size 4. Although it's not as slick as the old ones (which after all were polished by years of my mother's knitting) it's also not as "sticky" as the Hobby Lobby one. I'm hoping the new Susan Bates (tm) needles slick up with use. I now have enough (including my mother's) to keep two pairs of socks going + some mitts. The yarn here is Cascade 220 "Walnut Heather" # 8013; it's one that K- picked out online.
The purple socks on the right are for me. The cuff looks shorter because a) those cuffs are an inch shorter than K- likes (but this length works for me, in a warmer climate) and b) my legs and feet are bigger than hers, so the foot is longer in proportion. I would need 8 or 9 inch cuffs to have it look the same and that's way too hot for where I live.
The purples should be finished in the next day or so, as I'm still sick and I do more knitting when sick. They're just about to start the toe decreases. Here the needles are all size 5s, plain aluminum. They've gotten slicker with the 40-odd pairs of socks I've knit with them.
That purple yarn is Cascade 220 Purple Jewel Heather, #7811 one of the five basic colors I use. It's as pretty as the Superwash purple I bought years back--the first purples I made--and then discovered the yarn stretches out with washing. The next purple pair I made were Plymouth Yarns Galway Nep (discontinued) in purple (on the right below) but it was a "duller" purple, even when enlivened by the multi-colored "neps.) Now I'm trying this color and another Cascade 220 purple to see which I like. Then I'll buy some more of it to have ready for the next round. (Haven't decided what to do with the purple Superwash I bought...have considered knitting it in a tighter gauge. I may make K- a pair to see how she likes Superwash wool socks.)
Previous purple socks:
Cascade 220 Superwash purple The purple Plymouth Yarns Galway Nep with the
first shorty sock being tried on over it for heel turn
September 2, 2015
Oh Dragon*Con...
Oh Dragon*Con
I long to see you...
Far away across the country...
Your faithful crowds
Will never flee you
I'm bound, yes bound away
Off to far Atlanta.
There strangers know
Just how to greet you
Far away across the country
They sing and dance
And wear wild costumes
I'm bound, o bound away
Off to far Atlanta.
In Dragon*Con,
Once strange and scary
Far away from every day things
Now it's my dreams
You safely carry
I'm bound, o bound away,
Off to far Atlanta.
Oh Dragon*Con
An end to yearning
To be there, across the country
For once again
I am returning
I'm bound, o bound away
Off to far Atlanta.
I'll mention I'm doing a reading Friday afternoon at 5:30, and donated two Tuckerizations to the charity auction this year, in lieu of new books (since there were none.) I don't do Tuckerizations often, so if you want a character in the new Vatta book, or one in a Paksworld story, this is your chance.
And here it is almost 11 pm and the suitcase isn't zipped and I'm not ready for bed. Goodnight. See some of you in Atlanta this weekend, I hope.
I long to see you...
Far away across the country...
Your faithful crowds
Will never flee you
I'm bound, yes bound away
Off to far Atlanta.
There strangers know
Just how to greet you
Far away across the country
They sing and dance
And wear wild costumes
I'm bound, o bound away
Off to far Atlanta.
In Dragon*Con,
Once strange and scary
Far away from every day things
Now it's my dreams
You safely carry
I'm bound, o bound away,
Off to far Atlanta.
Oh Dragon*Con
An end to yearning
To be there, across the country
For once again
I am returning
I'm bound, o bound away
Off to far Atlanta.
I'll mention I'm doing a reading Friday afternoon at 5:30, and donated two Tuckerizations to the charity auction this year, in lieu of new books (since there were none.) I don't do Tuckerizations often, so if you want a character in the new Vatta book, or one in a Paksworld story, this is your chance.
And here it is almost 11 pm and the suitcase isn't zipped and I'm not ready for bed. Goodnight. See some of you in Atlanta this weekend, I hope.
Elizabeth Moon's Blog
- Elizabeth Moon's profile
- 2621 followers
Elizabeth Moon isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
