Setesdal Mittens

I offered to knit something for my dad for his birthday awhile back and he chose classic Setesdal mittens.  These Norwegian mittens use the same lice pattern as the better known Norwegian sweaters. The pattern is from Marcia Lewandowski's book Folk Mittens, which adapts several sweater patterns to cover hands.  I had to size them up considerably to fit his hands--they went up to Ariadne's elbow when she tried them on.

Above you see the left one inside out, and the right one as it ought to be.  I've had a lot of fun with color work lately.  It is not nearly as hard as it looks.  If you knit, try it!  Holding one piece of yarn Continental and the other English (so you have one in each hand) is very tidy and efficient.  

I got through the first mitten pretty quickly and without any mistakes.  Then I took a break to knit Charlotte a sweater--which took FOREVER.  Luckily, when I returned to knit the second mitten my gauge was the same and they came out the same size (yay!-- the first pair of mittens I knit were barely wearable, since one was three inches longer than the other).  I did make a couple of mistakes on the snowflake pattern of the second one, however.  

The first snowflake on the left is missing its white center stitch.   Not to fear, swiss darning to the rescue! 

The above is a picture of swiss darning.  Basically, I am just sewing over the offending stitch with the correct color.  This is also used when traditional color work would be impractical--like if you only wanted one red stitch in a whole row of knitting.  

Ta-da!  All fixed.  

Okee Dokee Memories

"That's the Okee Dokee Brothers!" Ariadne exclaimed as our Suzuki playlist unexpectedly rolled into 'Bluegrass for Breakfast' one day in late winter.  When passing the History Center she pointed and said the same thing "Okee Dokee Brothers!" And when she saw a rainbow, she also recalled the Grammy award winning children's musicians.  We had not listened to the band in months.    

It is hard to say what will become an indelible memory at the time it occurs, especially for a small child.  Certain things do up the likelihood.  Strong emotions (particularly negative ones), something unusual, events that make a story, these things all help.  Strong emotions were abundant.  The History Center's mascot, a bright blue person-sized dog known as 'The History Hound' was in attendance.  Ariadne was terrified of it, despite it's friendly overtures.  Even 100 yards away with 100 people in between, she clung to me in fear, declaring 'Bad Ruffy!'  

There was anticipation, the kids were looking forward to seeing a favorite band in person.  And lastly,  we had suspense.  As we found a patch of grass on the hillside, towering gray thunderheads blew into the sky.  Umbrellas boomed like flowers, black plastic cloaked the speakers, and the drops came down fat and round.  They were just about to call off the concert when the sun broke through, forming a rainbow against the dark clouds.  Soon it has cleared up and the concert was back on.  The evening worked itself into an nice narrative, and rainbows certainly count as unusual.  If there is such a thing as a memory making recipe, we had all the ingredients covered.  

Clapping to the beat and throwing their hands in the air, the crowd was really getting into it. Preschoolers (and older children as well) thronged around the edge of the stage. Charlotte, Nova and Aria got right up to the edge.  One of the songs included percussive clogging.  

      

I daresay it was even a memorable occasion for me.  I thought about blogging about it at the time, but given the endless parade of summer activity, wondered if one evening concert warranted its own post. Given the intervening months and the lasting memories (particularly those of my youngest), I see now that it does.  

Perhaps it was memorable for some of these folks as well.  We ran into several friends among them, including an old high school friend of mine (incidentally, the very person who had gotten me to Counting Crows and Lilith Fair concerts and played percussion with me in band).  She and her two year old were visiting from Baltimore and taking the local music scene.

Mother=Costume Designer?!

One aspect of having kids (especially having a lot of kids) that I never anticipated was how many 'ensembles' I would be responsible for.  I don't mean everyday clothes, though I am responsible for that too.  I am talking about those special occasions where everyone needs to look a certain way all at once--a cousin's wedding, a family portrait, a great grandparent's funeral etc.

I never paid too much attention to fashion, never really developed a personal style.  My sister, on the other hand actually is a costume designer.  She has designed for plays, movies, and even circus acts.  As a teenager she frequently had every single fashion magazine available that month in her bedroom.  So maybe I was doing that polar opposite sibling thing where I completely avoided a skill she was good at.

 Maybe not (we did both design our own prom dresses, which our mother graciously sewed) but the point is, now I have to think about these things.

Coordinating amateur family photos is a whole other topic.  Three out of four were on board.  Don't forget about shoes!  (It was still boot weather outside, in my defense, but not for long).

Now I have more respect for needing to coordinate six outfits for variable weather on short notice (at times mine has had to be maternity, or nursing friendly), or finding three blue dresses without distracting patterns (there is hardly any garment harder to find for an eight year old girl--the only options were school uniform, or flower girl).

While I have always made a point of making sure I have one good dress outfit for Spring/Summer (usually acquired around Easter) and one for Fall/Winter (the timing for this is pre-Thanksgiving), there are still gaps.  Shoes and socks need close attention year round.  Spring and Fall call for good sweaters or light jackets.  Hair must be considered for the girls.

                           

One of my favorite nursing tops, at a wedding with six-month-old Ariadne

Is this all hoity-toity nonsense?  I used to think so.  But the stress of having to pull this all together at the last minute is a real thing.  It is not worth the struggle of trying to 'make something work' the night before a big event.  While I might be able to do that for myself, I simply can't expect that to work for four kids.  And no one likes to feel self-conscious about their clothing, or feel like it doesn't fit.  

This coming weekend we have a wedding coming up.  But for once, I am only in charge of my own clothes.  All the kids are in the wedding!  Here's a sneak peak.

Thoughts on May Day, 2015

This is the first photo I found when I googled my old elementary school.  It illustrates the school's goals perfectly (and is a pretty good stand in for my class photos, which are probably in a box in my parents' basement). 

The Day after May Day, 2015

Yesterday morning, I sat in a parking lot listening to every word of Baltimore's chief prosecutor Marilyn Mosby's  press conference while I should have been grocery shopping.
     

At dinner we had a heated conversation about Freddie Gray, with one mad teenage boy and some kids very confused about the legal system and murder charges.  

At night, the older two kids and I saw my cousins in Hairspray, a plot I knew nothing about as the curtain came up.  Turns out, it is largely about race relations and desegregation in the Baltimore of 1962.   Just before intermission the 'TV Anchor' character listed riots and unrest in Baltimore with thirty teenagers frozen in mock-brawl on stage.  He ended with April 2015.  Who would have thought we'd be here now?  

A year or two ago, our church started a focus on racial justice and white privilege.  I was not having it.  I had covered that topic, thoroughly and completely.  One of the top goals of my elementary school education was to ensure that we were not racist.  And I feel that they succeeded.  Growling up I had friends who were Native American, Filipino, Japanese, African and Chinese.  We learned about the civil rights movement, making posters of Gandhi, King and Rosa Parks.  They did the brown eyes blue eyes experiment on us.  I was not going to listen to sermons about how I was racist without even knowing it.  Yes, I knew there were income disparities.  Yes, I knew the unemployment rates were unequal, that education score weren't the same, but there was progress.   We were on the right track.  I thought.  But it turns out I live in my own little bubble.  We all live in our own little bubbles--whether those are bubbles of racial equality or disparity, liberal, libertarian, or conservative beliefs.  We've all been surrounding ourselves with people who think like us.  (And often look like us too).  

The police brutality, and flat out killing, of African American men in the last year or so had been a real wake-up call.  Something's really wrong.  Whether or not I've counteracted prejudice in myself, whether or not I see racism in my life, there is a real problem out there that needs to be addressed.  

White privilege has really been brought into sharp focus by these events.  I remember President Obama talking about how Trayvon Martin looked just like his son would have looked, if he had had a boy.  Now that I have a 5'11'' thirteen year old boy the size of a man, I feel how protected he is by being white.  He can wear a hoodie any day of the week (and often does).  He can stand around on the street corner talking with friends.  This does not alarm anybody.  Change just one thing--his skin color--and I would be terrified for his safety right now.  But because of our extremely pale skin, I can choose whether or not I think of this as my problem.  

The distance--Florida, New York, Baltimore, Ferguson MO, has also felt like an opportunity for inaction.  'That's not happening here.' I tell myself quietly.  But when the incidents are so widespread, I can not longer take much comfort in the fact that none of them have happened in my state.  They are happening all over my country.  

So what should we do?  I really don't know.  I could go to my overwhelmingly white church to see what their thoughts are on the matter.  I probably will.  Tomorrow is Sunday, after all.

A Day in the Life: Spring 2015

Here is a little window on what we are up to these days.  It may sound a little disjointed.  It is.  But we do get a lot done.  Activities are lumped together by time of day, not subject.


At breakfast, Solomon and Nova had a long conversation about a post singularity universe and AI. (Sparked, no doubt, by a conversation Solomon and his dad had the night before about a post singularity story idea Solomon had.)

This morning Solomon and I went over the third chapter of Essays and Term Papers by Michelle McLean.  He also read the fourth chapter, as well as some of a book on Watergate.  I corrected Nova's math and she corrected her mistakes.  She is working on geometry and calculating the area of triangles.  Every once in awhile two digit multiplication is tripping her up, but she understands the concept well.  Charlotte and I read two pages of Max and the Fat Cats, the last Bob Book in set four.  The newest phonogram is -igh.  Nova practiced violin.  Charlotte practiced cello.



Charlotte and Ariadne played with play dough.  Charlotte did a little handwriting practice.  Ariadne has been asking what color things are all day "Is Twilight purple?" "Is that bacteria pink?"  "We have a green house.  On the outside."  So far, she's been right every time.

At lunch we listened to a little Billy Joel and I had the kids try and figure out what Allentown was about.  Solomon figured it out.  We also listened to Goodnight Saigon. The kids knew it was about war, but couldn't pin it down to the Vietnam conflict.

In the afternoon we watched a The Seven Wonders of the Microbe World then made up agar for twelve petri dishes and made a list of things the kids want to swab.  Solomon did a little conversion math, since the instructions were for one petri dish, not a dozen.  Aria got in on the documentary, but napped through the rest of it.

Solomon practiced violin.

Nova made up 80 fliers for her kid's newspaper project she is trying to launch in the neighborhood.

I read Animalia by Graeme Base and Miffy Rides a Bike  by Dick Bruna to the little girls at bedtime. Solomon may have done some Learn Python the Hard Way (programing).  I will have to ask.  Nova worked on a blender (computer graphics) project.

Easter 2015

Today was Easter.  It was the first holiday in a long time that we spent at home, just the six of us.  It was glorious.  This was not the original plan.  A well-timed illness (read: middle of the night), kept us from going out the next morning, even to church.  We'd read The Story of Easter by Aileen Fisher the day before.  At least we had covered what Easter is about.  By mid morning it seemed everyone was feeling alright, but we didn't want to risk infecting anyone, so we enjoyed the day at home.

The kids found their Easter Basket.  As usual, the kids got books to go with their candy.  This year it was several Miffy books, Knuffle Bunny Too, The Secret Garden and Pontius Pilot.  Nova read to her sisters. We played games together, mostly Chess and Go.  We had a leisurely breakfast.  We set up an egg hunt.  We hung around and did nothing for hours.  We never get to do nothing.



Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy spending holidays with extended family.  We look forward to many more.  But between church and music lessons, dance class and birthday parties, most of our weekends are busier than our weeks.  It can be a little ridiculous, but I haven't found a way around it.  So many things happen on the weekend or not at all.

 

Charlotte enjoyed building with her balancing blocks.  Ariadne combined birthday and Easter gifts, giving Miffy a ride on Twilight Sparkle.   

The girls still felt like dressing up, so we let them.  Here I am going out to hide Easter eggs.  

And they're off!  As of last year, each child is only allowed to hunt for the eggs the same color as their Easter basket, except for the golden egg, which is up for grabs (and contains something other than candy).

It was a spirited hunt, and everyone found their own eggs without too many hints.  The golden egg was much harder, partly because it was really more brown than gold.  I gave a hint.  Still no luck.   The discovery of the golden egg was almost (but not quite) captured on film.  Inspired by the candid writing of Knausgaard (a new favorite author of Chuck's), I will tell it like it happened.  

Charles stood poised with the camera.  Just as I was about to give the second hint, Solomon saw the egg and dove for it with enthusiasm, punctuating his action with an excited yell. Ariadne, who had been right behind him, was knocked to the ground.  Crushed by the disappointment of not finding the golden egg, Charlotte ran off crying.  Solomon gave Ariadne the egg to make up for accidentally knocking her over.  It turns out he was really just excited about finding the egg, not the prize inside.  Nova just stood there.  For a few moments it seemed the afternoon had dissolved into disaster.  I suggested doing away with the golden egg. 'No!' they all yelled. 

A Care Package and A Sewing Project

Right around New Years, someone we care about got quite sick.  Distance kept us from being there in person, so we sent a care package instead.  The kids helped me make molasses candy (high iron content for anemia) and a microwavable hot pack.  Here's a little how-to.  While we were at it, we made one for ourselves as. 

(Couldn't resist adding this picture of Ariadne--Solomon thinks it should be accompanied by the music from 2001: A Space Odyssey.  Now on to making hot packs.)

First combined some rice and lavender essential oil, allowing them to sit together in a plastic bag overnight.  A little measuring and sewing gave us an inner and outer bag.  The outer bag is flannel, to make it extra soft and cozy.  The inner one is muslin (existing mainly so that the outer bag can be washed).

We filled the rice a little past half way, so that it would not be stuffed tight once it was done.

In order to keep the rice from spilling while we sewed, we pinned a 'seam' to keep it to one side. I did the sewing at this step.   

 

 Dad played a very important roll at this point, making sure everyone got enough cuddles and stayed happy.

Velcro closure was the finishing step.  

Nova was very into pop up cards and drawing horses at this point, so she made a get well card that incorporated both.