Hey! I may have discovered a diet program I can sorta stick to.
For the past few days I've been having a slimfast shake for breakfast with a piece of toast, another for lunch, then a light snack/almost a meal for afternoon break (like, a lunchmeat sandwich with pile of lettuce on it, or small salad.) For supper I have a normal meal.
I figure I've cut about 1/4 to 1/3 of my normal calories. Not that this is showing any progress or anything in the short amount of time I've been doing this. But I figure if I keep it up, and maybe add in a bit of daily exercise, it should eventually start to have an effect.
28 December 2008
27 December 2008
Holiday Sloth
So, after putting a bright face on things, grinning through a double-impaction, Thomas and Mary headed south to Seattle after 3 nights.
Their visit was wonderful. I really enjoy the conversations, the work in the kitchen, etc. But, of course, there are tensions. And this year there was also a lot of pain. On their first day I had to bore them with a visit to the dentist where I had the port aftmost molar excavated, and three out of four roots were roto-rootered. The fourth was too infected to finish the work. After which I was loaded up with pain meds, an anti-biotic pill big enough to choke a horse (three times daily), and went off with the house-guests on a romp through the city of Vancouver.
I should mention they were driving a largish SUV, compliments of the distaff parents. Vancouver is not particularly SUV friendly, with no highways near the downtown core and most arterials being somewhat enlarged residential streets. We did some shopping, we did some sight-seeing, we picked up Alex from school and took him to a street-writer's (read, graffiti) shop.
Anyway, after a couple more days of fun, they headed off for more holiday visiting. I curled up in a ball waiting for the next dental appointment. And when we went in for that visit, re-open the tooth, re-rooter the three, but the fourth was still too infected to get clear. New anti-biotic, stepping into the big times.
And when we got home, Alex started to spike a fever. A big fever. I lazed about the house trying to deal with him and my jaw. Elizabeth fussed over both of us, but since none of us was particularly energetic (me staring at computer screen, he flat on his back asleep) it was mostly lazing about reading fluffy novels or watching movies for her, too.
Which was okay for 5 days, but with Alex still spiking higher than 103°, I was getting mighty nervous. Yes, it was almost certainly influenza. Yes, we were treating him symptomatically, which is all that a physician was going to do too. BUT, there are also other possible reasons for running such a high temp for so long, and I wanted the tests run to rule those out.
So we called the regional nurse line and, after the long list of questions (which we had already worked through, having a nurse in the family) yes, it was important to get this looked at, so we should bring him in to urgent care. But, since it was well after noon and none of the urgent care would be open to new walk-ins at this time, bring him in the next morning if he still had a temp.
The next day being Xmas eve, which we'd all completely forgotten, none of the local urgent care were open. But even more importantly, and something I haven't mentioned yet, was the Arctic Outflow event we were experiencing.
Every so often, once or twice a year, the regional climate conspires to have a cold blast for the coast. What happens is a deep cooling of the land just east of coastal mountains of Alaska and northern BC, developing into a cold high pressure system, which tends to push the north Pacific low pressure systems southward, and they roll ashore over Portland Oregon rather than BC's Central Coast, well north of Vancouver. Because the lows are south of Vancouver, and the high is north of Vancouver, frigid arctic air is sucked down through valleys and fjords.
These conditions usually last 3-5 days before falling apart, but often result in pretty spectacular snowfall as the very moist ocean air get's blanketed by the (for Vancouver) bitter cold from the north. Well, it set up around December 12th, and it never quite fell apart. And it certainly snowed.
The first batch of snow, about 10cm (4"), pretty much melted away. It was pretty, we were all amused. The second batch of snow set in just as Thomas and Mary were leaving, and it had been cold for a few days so it started sticking. Then, in one week, we had 4 snowstorms - one right after the other. We had more than 25cm (10") on the ground, in a city of more than a million people and a total of 20 city-owned snow plows.
And as the sun came up on Xmas eve, our fifth snowstorm within 7 days was moving ashore. Alex had a fever of 102.4°. And of course not a single health clinic or urgent care was open. So we headed for the hospital ER.
There was a brinks-type armored truck stuck in the non-ambulance entry to the parking lot, which of course was not plowed. A bobcat and two guys with shovels were valiantly trying to unstick the truck. We went to the hospital employee parking lot and walked over to the ER.
Yep, almost certainly influenza, take him home and treat him symptomatically. Sitting in the waiting room was actually rather amusing; the humanity on parade there was entertaining. An older Sikh gentleman was brought in by his son, who was about our age. A cantankerous older gent came in, loudly complaining about the service, the people around him. The quiet Sikh sat waiting until he was brought in the back, looking unperturbed while the other old guy tramped around with his cane literally shouting to make it known he was not pleased having to wait. He was sent home after 5 minutes in the back, while the Sikh gentleman - who had apparently broken his wrist and arm the day before in a fall on the ice - was sent off for orthopedic surgery.
The nasty old guy gave me a wink as he headed out and confided "the squeaky wheel gets the grease."
Then we went home and made a turkey breast on the grill (did I mention we have a gas grill on the deck?) and herbed potatoes and stuffing and steamed veggies for a nice dinner - the only real work I've done in a week. The antibiotics seem to have worked, my teeth no longer pain me, so now I'm looking at mountains of dirty laundry, dirty dishes, and a house in desperate need of a bull-dozer.
Outside the next snowstorm has warmed up to a slow drizzly rain which is finally melting our snow. Vancouver has experienced the whitest Xmas ever recorded, going back to the early 1800s, but it looks like the arctic outflow has collapsed and we'll go back to normal winter weather - chilly but not frigid.
Wishing you all a Happy New Year.
Their visit was wonderful. I really enjoy the conversations, the work in the kitchen, etc. But, of course, there are tensions. And this year there was also a lot of pain. On their first day I had to bore them with a visit to the dentist where I had the port aftmost molar excavated, and three out of four roots were roto-rootered. The fourth was too infected to finish the work. After which I was loaded up with pain meds, an anti-biotic pill big enough to choke a horse (three times daily), and went off with the house-guests on a romp through the city of Vancouver.
I should mention they were driving a largish SUV, compliments of the distaff parents. Vancouver is not particularly SUV friendly, with no highways near the downtown core and most arterials being somewhat enlarged residential streets. We did some shopping, we did some sight-seeing, we picked up Alex from school and took him to a street-writer's (read, graffiti) shop.
Anyway, after a couple more days of fun, they headed off for more holiday visiting. I curled up in a ball waiting for the next dental appointment. And when we went in for that visit, re-open the tooth, re-rooter the three, but the fourth was still too infected to get clear. New anti-biotic, stepping into the big times.
And when we got home, Alex started to spike a fever. A big fever. I lazed about the house trying to deal with him and my jaw. Elizabeth fussed over both of us, but since none of us was particularly energetic (me staring at computer screen, he flat on his back asleep) it was mostly lazing about reading fluffy novels or watching movies for her, too.
Which was okay for 5 days, but with Alex still spiking higher than 103°, I was getting mighty nervous. Yes, it was almost certainly influenza. Yes, we were treating him symptomatically, which is all that a physician was going to do too. BUT, there are also other possible reasons for running such a high temp for so long, and I wanted the tests run to rule those out.
So we called the regional nurse line and, after the long list of questions (which we had already worked through, having a nurse in the family) yes, it was important to get this looked at, so we should bring him in to urgent care. But, since it was well after noon and none of the urgent care would be open to new walk-ins at this time, bring him in the next morning if he still had a temp.
The next day being Xmas eve, which we'd all completely forgotten, none of the local urgent care were open. But even more importantly, and something I haven't mentioned yet, was the Arctic Outflow event we were experiencing.
Every so often, once or twice a year, the regional climate conspires to have a cold blast for the coast. What happens is a deep cooling of the land just east of coastal mountains of Alaska and northern BC, developing into a cold high pressure system, which tends to push the north Pacific low pressure systems southward, and they roll ashore over Portland Oregon rather than BC's Central Coast, well north of Vancouver. Because the lows are south of Vancouver, and the high is north of Vancouver, frigid arctic air is sucked down through valleys and fjords.
These conditions usually last 3-5 days before falling apart, but often result in pretty spectacular snowfall as the very moist ocean air get's blanketed by the (for Vancouver) bitter cold from the north. Well, it set up around December 12th, and it never quite fell apart. And it certainly snowed.
The first batch of snow, about 10cm (4"), pretty much melted away. It was pretty, we were all amused. The second batch of snow set in just as Thomas and Mary were leaving, and it had been cold for a few days so it started sticking. Then, in one week, we had 4 snowstorms - one right after the other. We had more than 25cm (10") on the ground, in a city of more than a million people and a total of 20 city-owned snow plows.
And as the sun came up on Xmas eve, our fifth snowstorm within 7 days was moving ashore. Alex had a fever of 102.4°. And of course not a single health clinic or urgent care was open. So we headed for the hospital ER.
There was a brinks-type armored truck stuck in the non-ambulance entry to the parking lot, which of course was not plowed. A bobcat and two guys with shovels were valiantly trying to unstick the truck. We went to the hospital employee parking lot and walked over to the ER.
Yep, almost certainly influenza, take him home and treat him symptomatically. Sitting in the waiting room was actually rather amusing; the humanity on parade there was entertaining. An older Sikh gentleman was brought in by his son, who was about our age. A cantankerous older gent came in, loudly complaining about the service, the people around him. The quiet Sikh sat waiting until he was brought in the back, looking unperturbed while the other old guy tramped around with his cane literally shouting to make it known he was not pleased having to wait. He was sent home after 5 minutes in the back, while the Sikh gentleman - who had apparently broken his wrist and arm the day before in a fall on the ice - was sent off for orthopedic surgery.
The nasty old guy gave me a wink as he headed out and confided "the squeaky wheel gets the grease."
Then we went home and made a turkey breast on the grill (did I mention we have a gas grill on the deck?) and herbed potatoes and stuffing and steamed veggies for a nice dinner - the only real work I've done in a week. The antibiotics seem to have worked, my teeth no longer pain me, so now I'm looking at mountains of dirty laundry, dirty dishes, and a house in desperate need of a bull-dozer.
Outside the next snowstorm has warmed up to a slow drizzly rain which is finally melting our snow. Vancouver has experienced the whitest Xmas ever recorded, going back to the early 1800s, but it looks like the arctic outflow has collapsed and we'll go back to normal winter weather - chilly but not frigid.
Wishing you all a Happy New Year.
12 December 2008
Goodbye Forever: Family and what it really means
My sister is a member of Our Lady of the Cast-Iron Unmentionables. She's a cast-iron bitch. She's narrow-minded, dull, and mindlessly cruel. And she doesn't care that others see her this way; she secretly revels in it.
That's fine and dandy; she has that right and I will respect it. I don't ask her to change; at this point in our lives I don't know if I really care either.
When our father was diagnosed with cancer, I was there. I spent the next year and some driving 400 miles each way 3 of every four weekends every month, to clean his garage, mow the lawn, get up early to go with him to uncle Lloyd's for dry toast and coffee. Then she came home from her career to take over, and I wasn't welcome there any more. The one thing I asked, after we'd talked with the hospice nurses, was that I be called when the final days were happening.
She called the day after he died. She was making all the funeral arrangements, would we be able to attend?
I said nothing until after the funeral. Then I told her, once, that I was very angry how things had been handled, and that when mother's time came did not want anything like what had happened. Most likely she's completely forgotten; she wasn't the one pissed off and hurt, so she doesn't care.
She never has, if she wasn't the victim. But she remembers every slight in the past 50 years.
She doesn't quite get that we all remember hurts. The bigger the hurt, the more we remember it. And when we ask for small things it hurts a lot that she refuses. And the fact is we, her sibs, have all had enough of her shitting on all of us. It's why we very seldom visit her and Mom. It's not why none of us live nearby anymore, but there sure wasn't any reason for any of us to not move away.
And when Mom does die, we all expect my sister to be queen bitch again, and no one will have any say in anything about it.
And after the funeral, and paying it off, we will all go home and leave her alone for the rest of our lives.
That's fine and dandy; she has that right and I will respect it. I don't ask her to change; at this point in our lives I don't know if I really care either.
When our father was diagnosed with cancer, I was there. I spent the next year and some driving 400 miles each way 3 of every four weekends every month, to clean his garage, mow the lawn, get up early to go with him to uncle Lloyd's for dry toast and coffee. Then she came home from her career to take over, and I wasn't welcome there any more. The one thing I asked, after we'd talked with the hospice nurses, was that I be called when the final days were happening.
She called the day after he died. She was making all the funeral arrangements, would we be able to attend?
I said nothing until after the funeral. Then I told her, once, that I was very angry how things had been handled, and that when mother's time came did not want anything like what had happened. Most likely she's completely forgotten; she wasn't the one pissed off and hurt, so she doesn't care.
She never has, if she wasn't the victim. But she remembers every slight in the past 50 years.
She doesn't quite get that we all remember hurts. The bigger the hurt, the more we remember it. And when we ask for small things it hurts a lot that she refuses. And the fact is we, her sibs, have all had enough of her shitting on all of us. It's why we very seldom visit her and Mom. It's not why none of us live nearby anymore, but there sure wasn't any reason for any of us to not move away.
And when Mom does die, we all expect my sister to be queen bitch again, and no one will have any say in anything about it.
And after the funeral, and paying it off, we will all go home and leave her alone for the rest of our lives.
04 December 2008
Cleaning and cooking and laundry oh my!
So today I'm supposedly working on serious homebody stuff.
We're having guests this weekend, so I'm practicing dinner dishes. Today's effort: green curry vegetables. It's a thai/burmese style dish, with green curry paste spicing up a cococut lime sauce with eggplant, onions, and sweet potatoes. Fairly simple, actually, except the method for cooking it was a bit bassackward. I wish I'd figured that out earlier.
Anyway, it's one of those long-prep style items. And, as it's cooking, I'm picking up the living room, rolling away the rugs, etc. And every time I need to come back to stir the pot, every couple minutes, I wash my hands and dry them. And every time I find something which really doesn't belong in the living room or kitchen, I'm jogging up the stairs to the bedrooms. Which is rather great, because I've been noticing I need more exercise.
Which reminds me that this morning I was baking cookies. Good old-fashioned chocolate chip cookies from the Betty Crocker cookbook. Except without the nuts and using special dark 'chipits', as the chocolate chips seem to be called here in Canada. The plan was to also bake a batch of peanut butter cookies, but I ran behind schedule so now we'll see if I can do that after this dinner dish practice is done.
Not that I need to have any more sweets around the house, as I said before. Still, with the laundry room upstairs, the cleaning/cleaning going on downstairs, today at least I'm burning cals. Now I just need to do figure out how to get optimal heart rate running up and down at least every other day...
And now it's done. Tasty, but could have had a bit more curry. Over-cooked, again because the order of some steps were a bit off. I'll be able to fix that when I make it next time, I hope. I think this one passes muster, and will be on the table this weekend.
We're having guests this weekend, so I'm practicing dinner dishes. Today's effort: green curry vegetables. It's a thai/burmese style dish, with green curry paste spicing up a cococut lime sauce with eggplant, onions, and sweet potatoes. Fairly simple, actually, except the method for cooking it was a bit bassackward. I wish I'd figured that out earlier.
Anyway, it's one of those long-prep style items. And, as it's cooking, I'm picking up the living room, rolling away the rugs, etc. And every time I need to come back to stir the pot, every couple minutes, I wash my hands and dry them. And every time I find something which really doesn't belong in the living room or kitchen, I'm jogging up the stairs to the bedrooms. Which is rather great, because I've been noticing I need more exercise.
Which reminds me that this morning I was baking cookies. Good old-fashioned chocolate chip cookies from the Betty Crocker cookbook. Except without the nuts and using special dark 'chipits', as the chocolate chips seem to be called here in Canada. The plan was to also bake a batch of peanut butter cookies, but I ran behind schedule so now we'll see if I can do that after this dinner dish practice is done.
Not that I need to have any more sweets around the house, as I said before. Still, with the laundry room upstairs, the cleaning/cleaning going on downstairs, today at least I'm burning cals. Now I just need to do figure out how to get optimal heart rate running up and down at least every other day...
And now it's done. Tasty, but could have had a bit more curry. Over-cooked, again because the order of some steps were a bit off. I'll be able to fix that when I make it next time, I hope. I think this one passes muster, and will be on the table this weekend.
30 November 2008
Ever get that sinking feeling? The you just opened a piece of cheap furniture and you see a bag of hardware big enough to sink a canoe and an instruction *packet* instead of the hoped for single sheet with 5 simple steps to voilá! and instant coolness?
That's what's on my plate this afternoon. A dining room table and 8 chairs that somehow were packaged small enough to fit inside a VW golf. ::siiiigh::
That's what's on my plate this afternoon. A dining room table and 8 chairs that somehow were packaged small enough to fit inside a VW golf. ::siiiigh::
27 October 2008
Indigo Project II: Jersey
So I've been sort of obssessing about this one... It's because I have so much of this yarn - 5 cones I think.
On Saturday I spent a couple hours working out the swatches, and building the basic pattern using The Knitting Fiend's generic Sweater Pattern generator. It's a pretty simple shape, just some slight shoulder->waist shaping really. Big crew neck, for those of us with bull-thick necks. No waist welt, but instead a deep rolled hem. I haven't planned out the armhole or neck gussets yet, but it's part of the design I have in my head.
Then I knit the front and back on Sunday, and ran into a few troubles. The back went first, and the hem rolled nicely, but the waste yarn I used refused to neatly unravel, so I can't say whether or no I got every stitch aligned properly. I figured I'd just go on and do the front and worry about the waste yarn later.
For the front I cast the waste yarn on a bit more simply, hoping it would unravel easier. I also decided to try a slight a-shape to the rolled hem, to make it stand out more. But I got so involved in the increases and decreases that I rolled it 10 rows early. And the waste yarn wouldn't come off easily here either.
Even worse, there is a clear color change shortly up the front. No doubt there's a knot I didn't catch as it went by. I figure I could frog the whole thing, start the front over, but that would be a real pain and require a lot of handling of the yarn. And this yarn is intensely surface-dyed, and the dye is coming off on my machine, my clothes, and my hands enough already. I'll live with this one being oddly colored on the front, and maybe it will equalize in the initial wash (it's intensely dyed, if I haven't made that clear yet... The sinkful of water I used to hand wash the swatches could nearly have been used for colorwashing, and was much more than normal blueing for white linens.)
Of course after knitting the two pieces I remembered about using full-fashion increases and decreases to make life easier when I get to the joining part of the sweater-making. I certainly plan on doing so on the sleeves, however.
I'm trying to decide, in the back of my head, the sequence I'm going to use to put the thing together. I think I'll be joining the right shoulders, purl sides together, to create a nice lumpy shoulder seam. Then I'll hang the neck stitches, and knit a simple 2x2 industrial rib neck welt. Off the machine, the hang the left shoulder stitches purl sides together, and pick up the ends of the neck welt, and seam them together as well.
Hang the sleeves and the body, knit sides together, to have a nice smooth seam. Then two long mattress-stitch seams up each side and it should be done. Which is so easy to write in so few words here, and so much more difficult to accomplish in real life. And it's not getting done with me babbling here in a blog, so... Tah!
On Saturday I spent a couple hours working out the swatches, and building the basic pattern using The Knitting Fiend's generic Sweater Pattern generator. It's a pretty simple shape, just some slight shoulder->waist shaping really. Big crew neck, for those of us with bull-thick necks. No waist welt, but instead a deep rolled hem. I haven't planned out the armhole or neck gussets yet, but it's part of the design I have in my head.
Then I knit the front and back on Sunday, and ran into a few troubles. The back went first, and the hem rolled nicely, but the waste yarn I used refused to neatly unravel, so I can't say whether or no I got every stitch aligned properly. I figured I'd just go on and do the front and worry about the waste yarn later.
For the front I cast the waste yarn on a bit more simply, hoping it would unravel easier. I also decided to try a slight a-shape to the rolled hem, to make it stand out more. But I got so involved in the increases and decreases that I rolled it 10 rows early. And the waste yarn wouldn't come off easily here either.
Even worse, there is a clear color change shortly up the front. No doubt there's a knot I didn't catch as it went by. I figure I could frog the whole thing, start the front over, but that would be a real pain and require a lot of handling of the yarn. And this yarn is intensely surface-dyed, and the dye is coming off on my machine, my clothes, and my hands enough already. I'll live with this one being oddly colored on the front, and maybe it will equalize in the initial wash (it's intensely dyed, if I haven't made that clear yet... The sinkful of water I used to hand wash the swatches could nearly have been used for colorwashing, and was much more than normal blueing for white linens.)
Of course after knitting the two pieces I remembered about using full-fashion increases and decreases to make life easier when I get to the joining part of the sweater-making. I certainly plan on doing so on the sleeves, however.
I'm trying to decide, in the back of my head, the sequence I'm going to use to put the thing together. I think I'll be joining the right shoulders, purl sides together, to create a nice lumpy shoulder seam. Then I'll hang the neck stitches, and knit a simple 2x2 industrial rib neck welt. Off the machine, the hang the left shoulder stitches purl sides together, and pick up the ends of the neck welt, and seam them together as well.
Hang the sleeves and the body, knit sides together, to have a nice smooth seam. Then two long mattress-stitch seams up each side and it should be done. Which is so easy to write in so few words here, and so much more difficult to accomplish in real life. And it's not getting done with me babbling here in a blog, so... Tah!
Written on the road...
24 October, but w/o internet access...
So I have these cones of indigo cotton yarn...
It's 4-ply, but fairly small diameter despit this. Each of the cones is perhaps as much as 450g, and I have no clue how many metres. I think about 800 or so, maybe as much as 1000.
Just before we got under way this evening (and there's an entire story *there*...) I knit up a quickish swatch at SS 6.5 in plain stockinette... it seems to be a bit more open than it might be for a work jersey. But at the same time it's not a fun material to work with on the machine, dragging through with loads of friction and little hope of getting any easier if I tighten up the tension a wee bit. And there was an odd screw-up... a dropped stitch or three, plus another edge needle which seems to have refused to knit or tuck for a bunch of rows.
If I can work out those problems, I'm thinking of knitting up a cotten version of a Guernsey-style sweater. I'm thinking heartlessly plain, with a 1" bit of 2x2 industrial rib at the top of each sleeve, and the reversed seam on the top of the shoulders, plus a gusset under each arm and smaller ones on each shoulder at the neck.
So I have these cones of indigo cotton yarn...
It's 4-ply, but fairly small diameter despit this. Each of the cones is perhaps as much as 450g, and I have no clue how many metres. I think about 800 or so, maybe as much as 1000.
Just before we got under way this evening (and there's an entire story *there*...) I knit up a quickish swatch at SS 6.5 in plain stockinette... it seems to be a bit more open than it might be for a work jersey. But at the same time it's not a fun material to work with on the machine, dragging through with loads of friction and little hope of getting any easier if I tighten up the tension a wee bit. And there was an odd screw-up... a dropped stitch or three, plus another edge needle which seems to have refused to knit or tuck for a bunch of rows.
If I can work out those problems, I'm thinking of knitting up a cotten version of a Guernsey-style sweater. I'm thinking heartlessly plain, with a 1" bit of 2x2 industrial rib at the top of each sleeve, and the reversed seam on the top of the shoulders, plus a gusset under each arm and smaller ones on each shoulder at the neck.
20 October 2008
Indigo project
So, I'm trying to create a project to use up some Indigo yarn I picked up from Yeoman Yarns. I had this thought to build a series of summer sweaters, but I think for now I'm going to make myself a comfy sweatshirt/guernsey thing for myself.
Not entirely sure what that's going to mean, though. Maybe a tunic-style pullover without any hip ribbing, very little ease at the cuff too, with a rolled hem. Now to figure out how to do that latter, and to make some swatches.
A bit about the yarn first, though. It's a hardish cotton, 4-ply yarn dyed with a natural indigo which will fade over time. So the white stripes I first thought about just won't work. But it could be fun to see what I can get away with... maybe charcoal stripes?
Not entirely sure what that's going to mean, though. Maybe a tunic-style pullover without any hip ribbing, very little ease at the cuff too, with a rolled hem. Now to figure out how to do that latter, and to make some swatches.
A bit about the yarn first, though. It's a hardish cotton, 4-ply yarn dyed with a natural indigo which will fade over time. So the white stripes I first thought about just won't work. But it could be fun to see what I can get away with... maybe charcoal stripes?
18 October 2008
Gravel roads, take me home...
I did not grow up in the land of gravel roads, exactly. I grew up in a place where roads are extremely challenged, and the culture responds to this by building the very best roads they can, to handle high water tables and extreme temperatures, heavy farm equipment and snow plows.
But not, I think, mountains.
So let me set up the scene for you... it's been a not-unusual high-stress September as the grant application due dates all seem to be in September and March, and Elizabeth doesn't have time to write grants during the school year so she seems to always have one or two coming to crunch in the Fall. But this year there were 6. After they were all finished, Elizabeth decided she needed a couple of stress-free days.
In the meantime, I've been sort of invited to help a group of sailboats who want to sail 'round Vancouver Island. I have to admit I'm pretty tempted, since the time I did this before turned into one of the most enjoyable cruises I've ever taken, if also one
of the riskiest. The north end of the island is nothing to sneeze at, being remote and prone to extremes of tide, current, and weather. And the west coast is nearly uninhabited, especially so in the northern half above Clayoquot Sound.
It's also intensely beautiful, with long fjords carving deep into the mountain ridge which make up the backbone of Vancouver Island.
So I'm already thinking about beautiful and remote places in the northern half of the island and Elizabeth needs to take a long weekend and Canada has just voted the conservatives back into power in Parliament (that is only sort of related, but you get the point) and we decided to just go find a hotel somewhere north. Which we did, in Port Hardy. And we decided to make a jaunt over to the west coast, to Winter Harbour, which turned out to be the highlight port of my cruise around the island 3 years ago.
One thing you need to realize is there are three industries on Vancouver Island north of Campbell River - Resources (logging and open-pit mining), Fishing, and tourists. And not much of the latter except in the months of July and August. Furthermore, every human settlement is on the water - either the ocean or an inland waterway - and this has been true for millenia. Many communities do not have road connections to anywhere, except by the crude logging roads the lumber companies build to harvest up the slopes of the mountains and hills.
Which is not quite true for Port Hardy itself. This is the departure point for ferries servicing the northern BC coast and southern Alaska, so trucks of supplies make their way up the only highway on Vancouver Island to this terminus, and those of us in search of quiet remote settings get to trail along with.
And then we strike off on those logging trails that lead to such interesting destinations as Cape Scott, Holberg, and Winter Harbor. Which we did this morning.
I was under the (mistaken) impression that the first leg of this passage was going to be reasonably easy - asphalt county road to Holberg. This is a famous bit of the trail to Cape Scott, which is a major destination for hikers and bicyclists, a national park at the tip of Vancouver Island and well north of 50°. And a half-mile on the asphalt stopped, and the gravel began. The posted speed was also 50kph - about 30mph.
Weeeelllll, I'm a country boy from Minnesota, have driven my fair share of "tinned" roads. That speed limit is just a guideline, isn't it? No, as a matter of fact, it isn't. Not because I got a ticket, no. Because the damn road is a death trap.
First off, in Minnesota gravel is sifted and graded according to size and how much rock - pebbles really - there is to how much sand. The rock is usually limited to, oh, about 1" or 1.5" size, but at least half of it is fine stuff. Not here. I'd say the average rock was less than baseball size. But the average means there was a fair bit over that size as well as under it.
As for how much fine stuff... that seems to be pretty variable. In some stretches it was pack smooth and hard, a great ratio of coarse to fine. In others it seemed they'd completely forgotten the fine stuff, and in the worst spots spring streams had clearly run down or accross the road, stripping away the sand and silt and leaving banked rock with carved ruts.
The noise and tension have blanked out most of my memories of the trip, but it took about two hours to drive the 40 km (25 miles) to Winter Harbour. The village is mostly deserted at this time of year, the post office was open though. We walked the board walk, which is the easiest way to get around in this town, and talked about possibilities of this being a place to get away from it all. Which it certainly was. After a couple hours of walking about we'd exhausted our curiousity, got back in the car and headed back to Port Hardy.
The car was caked with mud, but the drive back was a bit easier and faster now that I was learning how these logging roads worked. After washing down the car and dinner we came to the conclusion that Winter Harbour would be a great place for us, with either a reasonable truck or going there by boat.
But not, I think, mountains.
So let me set up the scene for you... it's been a not-unusual high-stress September as the grant application due dates all seem to be in September and March, and Elizabeth doesn't have time to write grants during the school year so she seems to always have one or two coming to crunch in the Fall. But this year there were 6. After they were all finished, Elizabeth decided she needed a couple of stress-free days.
In the meantime, I've been sort of invited to help a group of sailboats who want to sail 'round Vancouver Island. I have to admit I'm pretty tempted, since the time I did this before turned into one of the most enjoyable cruises I've ever taken, if also one
of the riskiest. The north end of the island is nothing to sneeze at, being remote and prone to extremes of tide, current, and weather. And the west coast is nearly uninhabited, especially so in the northern half above Clayoquot Sound.It's also intensely beautiful, with long fjords carving deep into the mountain ridge which make up the backbone of Vancouver Island.
So I'm already thinking about beautiful and remote places in the northern half of the island and Elizabeth needs to take a long weekend and Canada has just voted the conservatives back into power in Parliament (that is only sort of related, but you get the point) and we decided to just go find a hotel somewhere north. Which we did, in Port Hardy. And we decided to make a jaunt over to the west coast, to Winter Harbour, which turned out to be the highlight port of my cruise around the island 3 years ago.
One thing you need to realize is there are three industries on Vancouver Island north of Campbell River - Resources (logging and open-pit mining), Fishing, and tourists. And not much of the latter except in the months of July and August. Furthermore, every human settlement is on the water - either the ocean or an inland waterway - and this has been true for millenia. Many communities do not have road connections to anywhere, except by the crude logging roads the lumber companies build to harvest up the slopes of the mountains and hills.
Which is not quite true for Port Hardy itself. This is the departure point for ferries servicing the northern BC coast and southern Alaska, so trucks of supplies make their way up the only highway on Vancouver Island to this terminus, and those of us in search of quiet remote settings get to trail along with.
And then we strike off on those logging trails that lead to such interesting destinations as Cape Scott, Holberg, and Winter Harbor. Which we did this morning.
I was under the (mistaken) impression that the first leg of this passage was going to be reasonably easy - asphalt county road to Holberg. This is a famous bit of the trail to Cape Scott, which is a major destination for hikers and bicyclists, a national park at the tip of Vancouver Island and well north of 50°. And a half-mile on the asphalt stopped, and the gravel began. The posted speed was also 50kph - about 30mph.
Weeeelllll, I'm a country boy from Minnesota, have driven my fair share of "tinned" roads. That speed limit is just a guideline, isn't it? No, as a matter of fact, it isn't. Not because I got a ticket, no. Because the damn road is a death trap.
First off, in Minnesota gravel is sifted and graded according to size and how much rock - pebbles really - there is to how much sand. The rock is usually limited to, oh, about 1" or 1.5" size, but at least half of it is fine stuff. Not here. I'd say the average rock was less than baseball size. But the average means there was a fair bit over that size as well as under it.
As for how much fine stuff... that seems to be pretty variable. In some stretches it was pack smooth and hard, a great ratio of coarse to fine. In others it seemed they'd completely forgotten the fine stuff, and in the worst spots spring streams had clearly run down or accross the road, stripping away the sand and silt and leaving banked rock with carved ruts.
The noise and tension have blanked out most of my memories of the trip, but it took about two hours to drive the 40 km (25 miles) to Winter Harbour. The village is mostly deserted at this time of year, the post office was open though. We walked the board walk, which is the easiest way to get around in this town, and talked about possibilities of this being a place to get away from it all. Which it certainly was. After a couple hours of walking about we'd exhausted our curiousity, got back in the car and headed back to Port Hardy.
The car was caked with mud, but the drive back was a bit easier and faster now that I was learning how these logging roads worked. After washing down the car and dinner we came to the conclusion that Winter Harbour would be a great place for us, with either a reasonable truck or going there by boat.
16 October 2008
Knitting
You know, I knit.
Yes, it's not the most manly of hobbies, but I just can't seem to get into scratching my balls, drinking beer, or spending hours of my life watching other men either grab each other or kick ball around on a field of grass. Call it simply yet another of my character flaws and leave it at that.
On a completely different level of things is machine knitting. Knitting machines dates back to the 1600s, and they were invented as a way to make hose - the equivalent of blue jeans in the style of the day for men - more quickly, cheaply, and in wilder fashions than were otherwise possible. The machines can only do one 'type' of stitch. In hand-knitting there are three types of stitch - a knit, a purl, and increases. In machines there are only knits, although complex machine may have needles which can knit from two different directions, and a backward knit stitch looks exactly like a purl stitch. But there are two things you can do to vary the stitches without hand manipulation - slips and tucks. (In hand knitting there are far more options, including slips and tucks, twists, drops, increases, decreases, cabling, etc. Many of these can be done with hand manipulation on the machine as well, but they take more time and effort than doing the same by hand so why would you do that on a machine?)
Which begins to explain how knitting machines are so very different from hand knitting. Everything needs to be carefully plotted out before ever you start a machine knit project. The exact tension or gauge (which is how many stitches or rows per inch) must be known, so you can determine how many needles you'll need to get each garment piece the correct size. Machine knit garments are usually knit flat; that is, you knit properly shaped pieces of flat fabric, which are then sewn or bound together to make the final product. (This is very different from some of my hand-knitting techniques in which I make garment-shaped piece of fabric, with no sewing whatsoever.)
Unfortunately, most things are more involved than just figuring out the basic dimensions. So a garment becomes a sort of programming algorithm. For a sock, say, you need to know what tension should be in the ribbing at the top, so it's stretchy but not stiff. And you need to have a regular density for the leg and the top of the sock, but a tighter and heavier part for the bottom, and maybe denser yet for the heel and toe which are where the sock is most likely to wear through. And each of these will likely have a different tension. The shape of the sock cannot be a straight tube, either, although that might work for a very stretch athletic sock which isn't intended to fit particularly well. If it's an over-the-calf sock it needs to come in sharply above the calf, but not be tight from the widest point to the ankle or it will tend to pull the sock down. The largest measurement is actually from heel around the top of the foot, just forward of the ankle, which is why the heel is "turned" with extra stitches. Then there is the shaping of the foot and toe area - how much, when, and how should the toe be joined to make the least amount of lumpiness. By the time you've calculated everything, adjusting for yarn thickness, stiffness, and characteristics after being washed, you realize that a lot of preparation and investment has been done and you haven't even started knitting!
And the machines are often complex to get ready to start knitting. Stringing up the machine can take 15-20 minutes, more for machines working with multiple colors.
Because knitting machines are very limited in their techniques, but are very good at doing things evenly and quickly, knitting machine people tend to focus on different ways to be complex. Like doing multiple colors. With a two-bed machine it's very easy to make, quite literally, photo-print knitting. Using four colors in a way similar to the way TV screens work, and a fairly modest computer, I can build a pattern to knit a picture into a sweater. And it would knit quickly and fairly simply. It probably wouldn't be the lightest or finest sweater, but it be awfully cool to have a sweater with pictures of my grandbabies, or a sunset photo from one of my cruises up in the fjords of the BC coast.
Anyway, the point of all this was to begin talking about my knitting projects, because even a simple one should be documented in some way. In part because it helps me keep track of what I've done. Now I need to get a digital camera so I can take pics of various projects and progress, and start documenting!
Yes, it's not the most manly of hobbies, but I just can't seem to get into scratching my balls, drinking beer, or spending hours of my life watching other men either grab each other or kick ball around on a field of grass. Call it simply yet another of my character flaws and leave it at that.
One of the most interesting words in Candian English is tuque, which is their special word for a simple stocking cap. It's considered to be the national hat of Canada, something they're a bit smug about because it indicates, somehow, that they're tough and able to deal with their winters.
The reason I'm mentioning this is that there are a huge number of ways to make a tuque, and pretty much any one of them is "right." But a poorly made or worn tuque in Canada is an object of ridicule. Which, it seems, is pretty much every one I've ever made. I'm sort of on a quest for the perfect tuque recipe.
Anyway, knitting is one of those things that you can just *do*; it doesn't require a lot of planning, it doesn't require a lot of thinking while in the midst of it, it doesn't require a huge investment. At least, not when you're doing a new set of dish clothes or a quick stocking cap.The reason I'm mentioning this is that there are a huge number of ways to make a tuque, and pretty much any one of them is "right." But a poorly made or worn tuque in Canada is an object of ridicule. Which, it seems, is pretty much every one I've ever made. I'm sort of on a quest for the perfect tuque recipe.
On a completely different level of things is machine knitting. Knitting machines dates back to the 1600s, and they were invented as a way to make hose - the equivalent of blue jeans in the style of the day for men - more quickly, cheaply, and in wilder fashions than were otherwise possible. The machines can only do one 'type' of stitch. In hand-knitting there are three types of stitch - a knit, a purl, and increases. In machines there are only knits, although complex machine may have needles which can knit from two different directions, and a backward knit stitch looks exactly like a purl stitch. But there are two things you can do to vary the stitches without hand manipulation - slips and tucks. (In hand knitting there are far more options, including slips and tucks, twists, drops, increases, decreases, cabling, etc. Many of these can be done with hand manipulation on the machine as well, but they take more time and effort than doing the same by hand so why would you do that on a machine?)
Which begins to explain how knitting machines are so very different from hand knitting. Everything needs to be carefully plotted out before ever you start a machine knit project. The exact tension or gauge (which is how many stitches or rows per inch) must be known, so you can determine how many needles you'll need to get each garment piece the correct size. Machine knit garments are usually knit flat; that is, you knit properly shaped pieces of flat fabric, which are then sewn or bound together to make the final product. (This is very different from some of my hand-knitting techniques in which I make garment-shaped piece of fabric, with no sewing whatsoever.)
Unfortunately, most things are more involved than just figuring out the basic dimensions. So a garment becomes a sort of programming algorithm. For a sock, say, you need to know what tension should be in the ribbing at the top, so it's stretchy but not stiff. And you need to have a regular density for the leg and the top of the sock, but a tighter and heavier part for the bottom, and maybe denser yet for the heel and toe which are where the sock is most likely to wear through. And each of these will likely have a different tension. The shape of the sock cannot be a straight tube, either, although that might work for a very stretch athletic sock which isn't intended to fit particularly well. If it's an over-the-calf sock it needs to come in sharply above the calf, but not be tight from the widest point to the ankle or it will tend to pull the sock down. The largest measurement is actually from heel around the top of the foot, just forward of the ankle, which is why the heel is "turned" with extra stitches. Then there is the shaping of the foot and toe area - how much, when, and how should the toe be joined to make the least amount of lumpiness. By the time you've calculated everything, adjusting for yarn thickness, stiffness, and characteristics after being washed, you realize that a lot of preparation and investment has been done and you haven't even started knitting!
And the machines are often complex to get ready to start knitting. Stringing up the machine can take 15-20 minutes, more for machines working with multiple colors.
Because knitting machines are very limited in their techniques, but are very good at doing things evenly and quickly, knitting machine people tend to focus on different ways to be complex. Like doing multiple colors. With a two-bed machine it's very easy to make, quite literally, photo-print knitting. Using four colors in a way similar to the way TV screens work, and a fairly modest computer, I can build a pattern to knit a picture into a sweater. And it would knit quickly and fairly simply. It probably wouldn't be the lightest or finest sweater, but it be awfully cool to have a sweater with pictures of my grandbabies, or a sunset photo from one of my cruises up in the fjords of the BC coast.
Anyway, the point of all this was to begin talking about my knitting projects, because even a simple one should be documented in some way. In part because it helps me keep track of what I've done. Now I need to get a digital camera so I can take pics of various projects and progress, and start documenting!
01 January 2008
Sunrise on the river, New Year's 2008
There's a saying of sorts, I don't have the exact wording or context, but something to the effect that I don't want to die with my body in as perfect a condition as possible, as much money and property as possible. I want to slide into death used up, worn out, completely spent, and shouting "Man! What a ride!"
I'm not there yet, but I was too tired last night when we got home to ring in the Gregorian new year with the usual fervour. In previous 6 days we drove about 8,000 km (5,000 m), through 5 US states, multiple mountain ranges, and a blizzard. We drove out, visited with friends and family briefly, and drove back. The days before that we'd hosted Misha's best friend, and the week before that we entertained Christopher and his family.
Maybe it wasn't extreme sports, but it has been an intense, packed holiday season for us and we need a couple of days to rest up from our leisure.
And as I'm sitting here sipping an espresso drink and munching on sweet bread... I think I may have a few humorous stories to tell from it.
I'm not there yet, but I was too tired last night when we got home to ring in the Gregorian new year with the usual fervour. In previous 6 days we drove about 8,000 km (5,000 m), through 5 US states, multiple mountain ranges, and a blizzard. We drove out, visited with friends and family briefly, and drove back. The days before that we'd hosted Misha's best friend, and the week before that we entertained Christopher and his family.
Maybe it wasn't extreme sports, but it has been an intense, packed holiday season for us and we need a couple of days to rest up from our leisure.
And as I'm sitting here sipping an espresso drink and munching on sweet bread... I think I may have a few humorous stories to tell from it.
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