Technomoment

On Thursday morning at 9.00 I was, as usual, sitting in my home office having my weekly team meeting. This is done by phone, and I have my speakerphone on with the team in Melbourne on the other end. My mobile rang a couple of times, but I let that go through to voicemail. Suddenly, the phone rang. Not the land line, not the mobile, but Skype through my PC. I saw it was someone from our software developer in the US calling. "Hey guys" I said, "Heather is calling. I'll just answer her." I did so, and for the next half hour our meeting continued with all of us - Heather from the US on Skype, three from Melbourne on the land line, and me from Sydney. Everyone could hear well, the meeting was fruitful. Ain't technology grand? (When it works....)

Jumper, sock sock, TamOne, sock sock - the rhythm goes on

I've been quietly knitting away here, and it is time to show progress. First, the black jumper. See how nicely the pug fur displays? I tried a few different things with this jumper. This is the back, and the ribbing is done with a slip stitch (technique on a piece of yellowing newsprint ripped from a Daily Telegraph circa 1965) which results in a kind of casing through which you can slip elastic, should you desire. Quite easy, quite successful. What was not successful was my practicing of continental knitting. The knit side is easy, I can do that. But the purl side resulted in a very visible line of stitching. I must have been somehow reversing the stitch so it looked like knit, not purl. This I did not discover until well beyond the armhole decrease, so there was some frogging and re-knitting. I will practice on something smaller next time - even a SWATCH! This jumper was going to have a cowl neck but I have changed my mind and it will be a Vee neck. It may still have a lace border on the sleeves, and may even include a frosting of beads. Fun to imagine.


Naturally, you cannot knit a jumper all the time. You have to have mini-projects going. I've blogged before about the Arrow pattern I found in Charlene Schurch's book, so here they are. Yes, I have finished them both, and adore them, wear them all the time. The yarn is Lorna's Laces, which Julie gave me. See how nicely the pug fur goes with them?

Moving right along, a friend lent me her book on Knitted Tams, by Mary Rowe. Looks like just the thing, I thought. I had a ball of black Patonyle which was going to be socks for Michael. I had some leftover Lorna's laces. I now have a tam which matches the Arrow Socks! (Although the colour in the photos makes them look different - the tam shows the closest match to the real colour). Highly successful, and I am now working on my next tam. My mother liked it so much she wants one. My cleaning lady liked it so much she has commissioned one for her daughter - the wool has been purchased. Stay tuned for those two.

The same friend who lent me the tam book also gave me a ball of Jigsaw self-patterning wool. She also gave me a pattern which called for casting on 60 stitches. I thought 72 was more my size, so that's what I did. Just a basic sock, in plain knitting, but it was fascinating to see the pattern develop. Should I try really really hard to ensure that they are a real pair, and try to start knitting at the same colour change in the wool? Nah, let's just go for it. To my enormous surprise, they turned out pretty much EXACTLY the same! Here they are:


Now I have three pairs of hand knitted socks for me, only four more to go before I have a week's worth.

On the rhythm side of things, Julie and I went to the first lesson of our singing course last night. What fun! Some could read music, others had no idea, but at the end of it the class sang four-part harmony. We enjoyed it tremendously. At the tea break I spoke to one of the participants. "You look very much like ...." I said. "I am", she said. She was someone who worked at Fisher Library, University of Sydney, with me in 1971. I haven't seen her since. Yikes! Fancy recognising her!

Farewell Portia

Yesterday was a sad day. Finally, reluctantly, I took our old cat Portia to the vet for the last time. We’ve been talking about when would be the right time for so long. Her poor little nose was being eaten away with cancer, she sneezed and sniffed all day. She could barely walk, falling amost every step. She was at least 18. But still she ate heartily, as always. Still she purred.

There have been tears, but I know it was the right thing to do. The end was peaceful. I want to share some of the highs and lows of her life.

She came into our lives as a ragged 18 month old in about 1990. She was escaping from a house of druggies two doors down, had already had one litter, and another was on the way. A little grey tabby with delicate features, a white collar of fur and beige eyeliner. Surely some Siamese in there, from her triangular head, slanted eyes, and very vocal ways. I was home briefly, preparing to go to Utah where my husband was. The housesitter ( a cat person), my daughter (a soon-to-be cat person) and I (a dog person) were sitting outside in the courtyard when she appeared. She was welcomed, and I found myself combing out her matted fur with a flea comb. She seemed very pleased about that.

On our return from the sojourn in Utah, Portia had been named, and de-sexed, the impending litter dealt with. She was ensconced. Julie was delighted, and the two of them bonded. Portia would turn to liquid in Julie’s arms, they would sleep together, Portia upside down and flowing off the bed in delight.

She was a great hunter. One of her triumphs was the night I came home to find her tossing a HUGE male rat over her shoulder (outside, thank God). The rat was dead, Portia looked smug. I waited till Julie got home, we quivered and shook and carried on until I managed to prod the rat corpse onto newspaper, into a plastic bag, and into the bin. She was a birder, and often the back yard was filled with feathers. She and a series of currawongs had a working relationship. Portia would catch the mice and eat the heads, the currawong would perch patiently on the back of a garden chair, retrieving the bodies when she was done.

During our renovations all those years ago Portia loved to explore. She went underneath the house exploring and we were worried she would be immured, but she was always OK. One day she was gone for a while, and when she returned from under the house she was veiled, like Miss Havisham, in grey cobwebs.

Things weren’t always rosy for her, of course. The worst times, twice, was when she was tortured. We don’t know who did it. The first time she came home late with razor slashes down her tummy. Not too bad, not enough for the vet, but bad enough. The next time was far worse, and occasioned a trip to the vet and lots of treatment. After the vet visit she disappeared for what seemed like forever. Finally, late at night, I suddenly heard her bell far in the distance. She tottered home, we burst into tears. We thought she was dead. She recovered, to live another day.

She was the most affectionate cat, and never got as much attention as she wanted. The vets never heard her heart beat – even on a steel table she enjoyed the attention and purred loudly.

Early in her life she must have damaged her tail, and later in life it started to deteriorate. We took her to the vet, who attempted to judge where the tail’s feeling started and stopped by using scissors. This attempt failed when the scissoring reached up behind her ears and she was still purring. The tail was shortened and this was highly successful.

She loved being bonked on the head – a large knitting needle, the flea comb, a biro, she loved it.

Julie left home, Portia stayed. She outlived Benny, the Previous Pug, and filled that gap single handedly for a year before we got Jonty. The two of them got on, but there was some jostling for the best bed in the sunbeams. The two of them were ace lobbyists. I think their dinnertime is 4 pm. They think it is lunchtime, and by 3 pm the chorus rises in intensity.

We thought she would live forever, but in recent months was getting frailer and frailer. She still liked her afters (snacks of leftovers after dinner) so we introduced room service for her.

When is the right time to say goodbye? Even at the vet I asked whether I should/could just take her home again. No, said the vet. This is the time. Her body is breaking down, life is a struggle for her.

So there have been tears today for an elderly cat, from this dog-person. She will be missed.

You can't have too many black pants

I can be quite an organised person, really. Some time ago I decided to be systematic about those reward points you get from Visa and Amex. Instead of wasting them, letting them expire, forgetting about them, I started to trade them in on David Jones vouchers. I set my cap at sheets. Every time I charged something to a card, I thought about trading those points for really expensive sheets - sheets I wouldn't have paid 'real' money for. Eventually I had enough. I used some points for some fabulously fluffy deep rich flanellette sheets. (BTW - never wear flannellette pyjamas with flannellette sheets. There is a velcro effect that prevents any movement at all.) Then I moved on to the wonderful Frette pure white horrendously expensive sheets. Like flying business class, once you have done it, you can never go back. Sheets are like that. Once you have Frettes, you can never sleep on anything less. So again, a couple of years amassing points led to the purchase of another set.

Now we have enough sheets. (I know, some readers will wonder how that might be possible. I know at least one reader has a sheet fetish...).

Somehow, I keep spending enough on my credit cards to accumulate points. I should trade them in for Harvey Norman vouchers, seeing as how we spend enough on electronic gizmos but I am a creature of habit, and for some time now I have had two David Jones gift vouchers burning a hole in my purse. (Where is purse asbestos when we need it?)

Today I walked to town. Yes, I've been feeling I needed some exercise, and town is about an hour's walk. OK, I had lunch with a friend that immediately replaced all the calories used on the walk, but that's a different story. I knew I had a mission. After lunch I went to DJs to spend those vouchers. First, a replacement Lancome lippy. My favourite is almost gone. Did I know if I spent more than a certain amount I would get a free gift? Hell, it was all free - this was POINTS after all! So I bought the lip balm as well, which qualified me for the free gift of FOUR more Lancome things. And STILL they make a profit!!!

What else do I need? Black pants. If I'm honest, the whole trip was to justify the purchase of another pair of black pants. Why? How many pairs do I already have?

Well. There is the one true pair, the pair that I wear almost every day. The Ignazia pair. I used to have two pairs, until I fell one day and ripped a hole in the knee. I had two pairs because I wasn't sure the dry cleaner was going to have Pair 1 back before I went overseas, and I couldn't imagine going overseas without them so bought another. The pants that have the matching jacket. I've had two of those jackets because I left the first one overseas (the same trip..) and had to buy another on my return.

Then there is the wonderful summer pair. The Yoshi Jones thai silk wide leg ones that are cool and swishy. I have a jacket and skirt in the same fabric. My husband bought the fabric in Thailand, my mother made the jacket and skirt. The pants just happen to match and be perfect.

Don't forget the Nitya pair of summer black pants. These are cigar slim, two layers of very light chiffony fabric that feel and look terrific. I've had those for some years and love them.

And then there are the Hedrena black wool pants. I love Hedrena. As well as the black pants I have a long black cardie, and three of the same top with a kind of mandarin neck in light blue, maroon, and (you guessed it) black. Love those pants. When we sang in the Big Sing, my daughter (who doesn't wear black) needed a pair of black pants to wear. Do you have any, Mummy? Umm, yes. These would be best. Oooh, she said, after wearing them on the day. These ARE comfortable. I haven't got them back yet.

Ah, the Mondi (what is it about fashion and these silly Flash websites that want to play music and be atmospheric) black wool pants. They were from a pre-loved shop in Chatswood. Always a bit big and baggy. The zip has a habit of opening on its own, so long tops were obligatory.

Yes. I really need another pair of black pants. I have the vouchers. I try Perri Cutten at DJs. Pair 1: Is this foolish after a big lunch with tummy pooching out? Pair 2: too casual, not quite right. Pair 3: PERFECT! The right fit, the right amount of stretch. Even the right length. Thank you Perri! Thank you Points! I hand over the voucher and only have to pay another $12. What a bargain.

They come home, and one pair has to go. One comes in, one goes out. Which pair will go? In my heart I have already decided. Even though the Ignazias are shiny and thin around the knees, the Mondi pair have to go. It is hard. A good pair of black pants is a friend for a long time. Be strong! Farewell faithful Mondis. Welcome faithful Perris. I hope the Hedrenas come back some time.

And I didn't even mention the black trackies....................

waddayamean, too busy to blog???

I know, I know, there are no excuses. I haven't blogged because I'm too lazy, not because I'm too busy. But I haven't been too busy to knit. Oh no, not at all. I finished the Arrow socks, and love the way they turned out. The Arrow pattern was chosen from Charlene Schurch's book because that's the name of the project I work on. Digital repositories...socks... now there's a combination. I was delighted with the way the pattern worked with the yarn. Lorna's Laces, a Christmas present from my daughter. Sometimes those variegated yarns can come up with odd looking outcomes, but these worked really well. I just love wearing the socks with a) a dark red jumper I knitted a few years ago, and b) a black velvet Chinese jacket with hot pink embroidered cuffs and lining. The pink and red goes perfectly. Why haven't I worn lairy socks before, I wonder? Anyway, here is one of the socks. If you look closely you will see the obligatory and unavoidable Pug Fur.

Can you see the way the arrow pattern points down towards the toe?
Very successful.

So what's next on the needles. Much umming. Much pawing through the Harmony Complete Guide to Knitting Stitches. Something different, something exciting. How about a black jumper? Those who know me know I favour black, it looks so charming when covered with a fine patina of Pug Fur. Perhaps a pattern? I go back to my old Paton's Classic Cardigans and Jumpers (for some reason I have two copies, so it must be good.) The blue cardigan I knitted from this pattern years ago is still worn with monotonous regularity. It fits. It must be a good basis. Thinks. Hmmm. How about a nice purl/plain pattern for interesting texture. I choose one. I experiment. Daughter advises that the pattern will be lost in the black, and am I really going to invest all that effort in 'an interesting play of light'. "You know," she says, "that you would only be doing the pattern for yourself." Yes dear. More experimentation. I also experiment with a hem pattern I ripped out of the Daily Telegraph some years ago. OK, more than 20 years ago, most likely.

I knit the hem pattern and it does what it says it will do. It forms a kind of double hem with a casing through which one might, if one wished, put elastic. I won't do that, but the hem looks great. I continue with the pattern experimentation, but a miscounting of the number of cast-on stitches ensures that I will knit this one plain. No pattern. It seems years since I knitted plain stockinette, and it goes like the wind. Patons Bluebell 5 ply on the lovely Boyes needles, and I am whipping along at a great rate. It is going to be good. I think it will be a cowl neck, and I know how I will do that. I am contemplating a lacy sleeve hem. It is so enjoyable to contemplate the complex whilst zipping along with perfectly plain knitting. Here it is on the floor in a photo which doesn't do it justice, but proves that I am still here and still knitting.

Those of you who also read Julie's stuff will know that we briefly attended the Worldwide Knitting in Public Day at the Opera House recently. You'll see some photos at links from her site so I won't repeat them here. Why only briefly? Because we had an absolutely wonderful weekend not knitting, but singing in the Big Sing. Yes, we were choristers in the Mozart Requiem, and it was a wonderful experience. Along with about 90% of the other 1099 singers, I had never sung this before. Indeed, it has been years since I sang anything in public. What a buzz it was. We are now looking for new outlets for our singing. Yes, we do sing in tune, we think.

So there you go. Life goes on in the world of KnitTatPug. Stay tuned for updates on the boring black jumper. And be warned that if you get too close there are still hums going on from the Requiem. If I suddenly burst out singing "ne absorbeat eas tartarus ne cardant in obscurum" it is just an obscure line... hum hum hum....

Let the child be born

I finished the jacket/cardiagn, so the child may now be born. She's due late this month, and might ever arrive on my birthday.

This might be the first time I've ever knitted something for a baby that has been finished before the baby arrived. My record might be a crocheted rug for baby Jonathan, that ended up being for his baby brother two years later. But this little jacket was fun to knit, and quite quick. I've knitted it before so didn't have too much trouble with the pattern.

There were days when I did nothing much BUT knit, which are good days indeed.

Although I'm always ready for a visit to the button shop, I thought I'd check my own button jar and that of my mother. There were five little pearl buttons in my mother's stash, and they look just perfect. There is a little wool left over which might become bootees. I made an attempt on those at SSK on Saturday, but somewhere went wrong and had to rip up. Sigh!

So I hope the mother-to-be likes what I've done, but she has to wait until the birth before the presentation occurs. Charlotte/Rosie will be warm this winter or next, depending on size.

Now, where is that sock wool? I've got plans to knit ARROW socks - that's the name of the pattern and that's who I work for! (Sorry, the link is to the worksite, not the pattern) A marriage made in heaven...

Next time I'll tell you all about what deflected me from knitting them yesterday. Not a pretty story, and more to do with entertainment tech.

The Pug's Pearly Whites

Poor old Jonty had to have some dental work this week. I've been avoiding it, because he has to be anaesthetised and that always makes me anxious. But the state of the Pug Breath meant action had to be taken. I made the appointment for Monday, and delivered him, all unsuspecting, into the hands of the vet. It needed to be done. He had eight extractions, and a general clean up. The vet said when I picked him up that he might not want to eat that night, and not to worry. A pug not eat? I took him home, and had already prepared a little bowl of chicken tenderloin. He ate one tenderloin rapid quick. Then another. And another. Yet another. I cooked the rest for my own dinner, and he had some of it cooked afterwards. A pug not eating is a dead pug.

The teeth remaining (yes, there are plenty left - one website gives the number as 42) are gleaming. Well worth doing, we hope he will be chomping away for years to come. More bones, toothbrushing, all these are on the agenda and more.

Willy and Wilty

Despite all my good intentions I did not make it to SSK today. Truly, I did mean to go, and was looking forward to it. Instead, I indulged my predilection for techie stuff, hence the title of this post.

For ages I've been meaning to post on WILLY - What I Learned Last Year. Now that it is April already, it seems a bit out of date. Better late than never? Here is a very short list: Wikis - the work wiki was a revelation in how people communicate and how quickly things get out of date and out of control without some good procedures and constant editing. Blogs, of course, writing one and reading those of others. RSS Feeds, especially the wonderful plugin RSSPopper for Outlook. My love affair with Mozilla Firefox (just love those tabs), and eventual abandonment of Mozilla Thunderbird (it didn't have an integrated calendar and wouldn't synch with either the Palm or my phone.) Now I've gone back to Outlook and have not only my phone and palm synched, but the next on the WILLY list, the iPod. It is wonderful. I can download all my favourite Radio National Programs, but what makes it really worthwhile is Cast On with Brenda Dayne. Just wonderful. I love it. I spent hours turning my records into mp3 files using Audacity, but have not finished by a long shot. There was lots more I learned associated with my job, too much and too arcane to bore you with here. On the home front, I learned how to knit socks, to turn a heel, to graft using Kitchener Stitch.

What about Wilty? What I Learned This Year. So far, the list is extending. This last week I installed a wireless network for my mother, who has moved next door. I have successfully established a wireless network at home, so can sit here with the laptop on my lap, not connected to ANYTHING, and type this.

And what has this to do with not going to SSK today? As noted above, my mother has moved next door. This is a good thing for everyone. My nephew installed a set top digital TV box for her, and one has to keep up with the Joneses. Today, we bought one. Instead of knitting with wool, I feel as though I've been crocheting with cables. The RGB goes here, the composite red/yellow white, this goes here and that goes there, and then you press this button on that remote control and then that button on this remote control, and much sweat and swearing later, we are navigating the digital highway.

It goes on. You just have to keep up with technology or it gets away from you. That's my excuse anyway.

Still knitting, but what about the blog?

What a slacker I turned out to be in the blogging department. Once you stop, it is hard to get going. A post from my daughter prompts me to update you, my trusty readers. I have not been slack in the knitting department. A birthday present for Michael was a Sock Certificate, entitling him to one pair of hand knitted socks. They have been knitted. It is only when you knit a pair of socks for someone that you truly appreciate how large are the feet. These aren't socks, they are gunboat covers. The two balls of wool (Elann sock wool) were not enough, so there was an emergency dash to Tapestry Craft to buy some close-as-possible Patonyle. So these dark blue ribbed socks have black toes. He likes them long, and they were top down. At least I have learned from this - three balls of wool for his socks. Here he is wearing them. Next to him is my sister, who tried on my first attempt at sock knitting and almost had to be pried out of them.

Now that the socks are finished, what's on the needles now? How could I go to SSK with not even one project on the go? I couldn't, and that's all there is to it. More socks? I have plenty more sock wool, and plenty more eager feet. But...

A friend is having a baby, and a small garment seemed in order. I have been in a knitting frenzy, enjoying the little lace pattern. This is the body (all knitted in one piece) so I have only a little more to do there, plus the little sleeves. No more pictures until it is done, this will give you just a taste. Maybe another week. Can she hang on that long???

Pug Eats!

Is that really news? All Pugs eat, and rather too greedily. I promised that my next post would be a Pug Post, and this is it. It is all about what Our Pug Jonty eats. While lunching with a friend recently, she commented on the weirdness factor of my snowdome collection. As we continued to chat, the conversation came around to freezers, and what size would suit. I noted that there is a tidal effect in ours. Dog food gets cooked and put into plastic containers and frozen in bulk. As the tide recedes, the plastic container cupboard fills. Ebb and flow.


"What?" she said. You COOK for your dog????"

"Of course", I said, "doesn't everyone?" My estimated weirdness factor just went up a notch or two.


Well I really do know that most people serve up those tins, but my last Pug, the great Benny, got kidney stones in his old age. I swore that it was because of tinned food, and that Jonty would be better fed. It is quite easy, really, convenient, I know what he is eating, and it is cheap. So I am going to share my recipe, along with a picture of the Magnificent Jonty. See his gleaming coat? Not bad for an 11 year old elder statesman.

The Recipe

Put a large stockpot on the stove with a couple of litres of water. Start it heating.

Use your food processor to shred a carrot, a turnip, and a parsnip. Add in about 6 cloves of garlic (shred them too.) Garlic deters worms. Include sweet potato and pumpkin if you like. Add this to the water.

As it starts coming to the boil, put in some or all of the following, adjusting the proportions as you like:

6 hearts
a big piece of liver
6 lamb kidneys or a couple of ox kidneys
Some diced chuck steak
Half a kilo of chicken mince
Anything else you think would be good. It can be any combination of meat that is cheap and available. The above is just a suggestion.

When it comes to the boil, throw in two packets of pasta - I always think that the vegetable spirals work well, but truly, does it matter?

Then a packet of the secret ingredient - quinoa. It is high in protein, it has lots of good trace elements, it is GOOD FOR HIM1 - and it is good for us too.

Boil it up until it is all cooked, adding more water if you like. It shouldn't be too soupy.

Finally, chop a bunch of bok choy or other asian greens and add that. When it is wilted and cooked, only a few minutes, ladle the whole lot into plastic boxes and freeze it. It lasts us for months. Jonty thrives on it.

Is that weird? No, of course it isn't. Nothing is too good for Our Pug Jonty.

Next will be a sock post. They are coming along just fine.

It's finished, and it's me!

YAY! I finished the jumper yesterday, and it FITS! You may remember that I have knitted this jumper once before. It is Jo Sharp Silk Road Aran Tweed, and the pattern is Anya from a Jo Sharp book. The first time I knitted it to the end, sewed it up, put it on.... disaster. Way too wide, way too short, sleeves way too long. With the helpful advice of my cleaning lady, Gladys, who said it looked terrible, I unpicked it. Never before have I unpicked a whole jumper, but it had to be done. This time I went down a size in the pattern, made it longer and the sleeves shorter. And thanks to my daughter who advised testing the fit by using bulldog clips instead of pins - much faster and easier, and less painful. It was lovely to knit with, and knit up very fast indeed. I love the ribbing detail on the hem and the neckline, and also the interesting bell shaped sleeve. I'm very happy with it. So here I am, wearing it! It hasn't even been blocked or anything. I think people are going to see a lot of this jumper, as soon as it cools down enough to wear it.




What's next on the agenda. For his birthday, I gave my husband a certificate entitling him to one pair of hand-knitted socks. I have the wool. I have the fabulous sock book Julie gave me for Christmas. I have measured his feet (he enjoyed the process). I have EVEN KNITTED A SWATCH for the first time. The next knitting post will be sock progress. But my next post is going to be a Pug Post, so you know why my blog name includes The Pug.

It snowed at Christmas!

What? Snowing in Sydney in December? Yup, right here there was snow in abundance. Christmas is when I get my snowdome collection out and put it on display. There are only 63 of them, and during the year they live in a little chest where they don't need dusting. Christmas seems like an appropriate time to get them out for an airing, so here they are. They are from all over the place, as snowdomes are. The gold one you can see towards the right is really a sandstorm - inside there is a Pyramid and a Sphinx with gold glitter. From Egypt of course. The big red heart behind it comes from New York.


On this little table with the lava lamp there is a Nebraska one, right next to an Elvis from Graceland dome. The matchbox shape is a miniature kitchen scene from Mexico, an honorary snowdome.






People ask whether I have a favourite, and I confess, I do. It is the one right in front in this little group. You can't see it well, but it is my only double-sided dome. On one side there is a scuba diver with coral and shells and little fish, and on the other side is a leaping dolphin. Where do you think this piece of exotica comes from? Melbourne. Yes, Melbourne.

There are places we've been that don't seem to have snowdomes. Like Korea, home of an enormous amount of tacky souvenirs, but no snowdomes. I guess I could go to Global Shakeup and buy one (if they had one) but I wouldn't dream of doing that. And please, now that I've revealed my secret collection, don't give me any. The rule is that either Michael or me has to be there and buy it in person. And we might JUST have enough domes right now...

Stick to your knitting

Truly, I am still knitting. Or re-knitting. This is the jumper I knitted to completion, tried it on, and unpicked it. The pattern is Anya from the Jo Sharp Gathering book, in Silk Road Aran Tweed. It was one of the fastest jumpers I have ever knitted. Alas, however, it was way too short, way too wide, the sleeves way too long. Never have I had such a disaster in fit, and I have been knitting a long time. Gladys, my cleaning lady, was here as I tried it on again, and she told me what I already knew. It had to be unpicked. It was a shocker to unpick, and I have all these little balls for re-knitting.

I went a size down from the book. I knitted the front and back much longer. I have knit the one sleeve a bit shorter. As you see, I have one sleeve to go. A sleeve takes less than a week, depending on how often I pick it up and knit it. Very fast. Please keep your fingers crossed for me. I don't want to re-unpick nor re-knit. I want this jumper done so I can start on the socks I have promised my husband. Yes, I have the wool for them. I have a new sock book - Sensational Knitted Socks - a Christmas present from my daughter. I am ready for socks, but I am being strict with myself. The last sleeve must be done first.

Toys for Christmas - or - The Wireless Office

We've had a wonderful Christmas and New Year, and survived the great heat of yesterday. 44 degrees is TOO HOT! There were lots of new toys for Christmas, including a Nano iPod and a wireless router. Not to mention getting our fried computer back again, thanks to the Son-out-law. We must keep it on its other side to ensure that it gets enough air through it. Apparently it had suffered severe meltdown.

So isn't it fun to reinstall stuff (he'd saved all our data, thank you thank you) but there was much to reinstall, and much to replug. I know, I've blogged about big fat plugs before, but this time the subject is the Wireless Office. We have a wireless mouse, the digital camera, the e-book, the Palm, the iPod, a laptop, an ADSL modem, a wireless router so the laptop can be used outside in the garden or wherever. So how come all these things need all these wires? Here they are, you can see the mess we are in.

I've had SOOOOO much fun installing all this stuff, and it all now works. Except that I have no sound from the PC any more, nor any place to plug in the speakers. I'll fix that soon enough. And it took far too long to install the wireless router, because I didn't know I needed a dynamic IP address instead of a PPPoE, as was suggested by the documentation. Isn't it great to have a wireless office? As well as a paperless one?

And where do you think the Pug likes to sleep. You got it, he likes to crawl in and lie in amongst all those wires, on the big fat plugs where it is warm. Then he likes to lurch out with cords around his neck and his legs. Now that I have the camera connected (with its own cradle, its own USB connection, its own power source, I will be able to take a picture of him next time he does it. Provided, of course, that he doesn't get the camera cables around his neck and destroy the whole setup. Pugs are such fun.

Don't worry, as soon as I have the sound card I will bind all the cables up neatly using spiral cable binding stuff. And as soon as I have done that, I will need to unhook it all again for some other unforeseen catastrophe.

Pollyanna

I haven't blogged for AGES, and one excuse is that I have been a road warrior. Many trips to Melbourne and back. Once it took me seven hours, door to door. Storms closed Sydney Airport, so I was one of the lucky ones who did manage to get home. I have whinged and whined, carried on about how tough it is, so it came as a shock when a colleague described me recently as 'relentlessly perky.' It was meant as a compliment, a comment on how glad I always seem to be. This put me in mind of Pollyanna, one of my favourite childhood books. The other day I went straight to the bookshelf, where it can still be found, and opened it up. Soon I was as engrossed as ever, the story familiar and yet seen through my grown-up eyes for the first time. When did I read it last? Probably in my early teens. A long time ago. Sure, it was saccharine. And yes, Pollyanna is nauseatingly sweet with her glad game. But her determination to see the best in what you already have rather than wishing for something else is a great lesson. I read straight through it to the end, wishing I had the next in the series. Maybe Pollyanna did teach me something all those years ago.

I've got the world at my feet

I can hear you thinking.. here comes another sock post. But no, this post reveals one of my deep dark secrets. I have a weird fascination for manhole covers. Look down, everyone! Look at the world at your feet! Once you start, you realise how much variety there is, how much beauty. I started in Montreal, suddenly struck by the French words on the covers. I'd lurch into the middle of the road, camera pointed towards my feet, snapping happily. This was my first.

I soon discovered I was not alone. There are websites devoted to them. The wonderful site http://www.drainspotting.com/ includes a huge range of manholes. A colleague sent me a wonderful site from Japan , not to be missed. The same colleague sent me this little gem, from Virginia, USA.
Look closely - made in India!




















Some are so delightful in their simplicity. I can't resist including this one of a tree in Erskineville, the next suburb.





Worrk took me to Wellington, NZ, last week. It was a symposium on digital repositories run by the National Library of NZ. A free morning allowed a walk around Wellington, including one of my very favourite things to do - a ride up the cable car, with a walk down to the city through the wonderful botanic gardens and an historic cemetery. Naturally, my eyes are alert for manhole covers, and I was not disappointed. Several lovely examples have been added to my collection, and here they are:








Aren't they lovely? So next time you are walking around, look down and see for yourself these windows to the nether world. And remember, if you come to my house, you are likely to be treated to a slide show featuring manhole covers of the world. You have been warned.

Sockomania

Yay! As you can see from my proud photos, I have finished my very first pair of socks. This was from the Classy Slip-Up pattern in the book my daughter lent me, Knit Socks! by Betsy Lee McCarthy. I thoroughly enjoyed knitting them, once I got used to using five fine bamboo double pointed needles. What fun! Now I am looking at all kinds of other patterns, including some for gloves.

No no no, you MUST get back to knitting your pink fuzzy jumper. I promise I will .... no more projects until it is finished.

Another first this last week was our attendance at the Sydney Sity Klickers group, which meets nearby. We had a most enjoyable afternoon looking at magazines, comparing knitting and stash sizes, confessing unfinished projects and horror stories about felted knitting. We'll definitely go again. Several of us have blogs, including this one, who had a link to the most fabulous shawl which is making me drool.

No no no. Step away from that pattern. Go towards your pink fuzzy jumper now....

Our signature scent for summer

Spring is almost over, summer is coming on. The wisteria has bloomed, and the tree waratah is still in full glorious bloom in next door's garden. You can just see it behind the wisteria. The jasmine mingles with the wisteria, and the heat is rising.

My toes have emerged like white grubs from their winter sock cocoons (I'll spare you the pictures) begging for a shiny coat of pink nail polish.

Alex has been a bit strange(r) lately. He is always busy in his garden, and has been muttering things about a baby crocodile. He says if its mother appears, he'll be calling the cops! Alex likes height in his garden. I think it is to entertain his neighbours - he builds things up to fence height so we can all get the benefit of his artistry. So I really thought I ought to investigate this crocodile business, and got the camera out. This is what I saw:


















If you look closely at the first picture you'll see a pink dinosaur up on a pedestal, along with a couple of other plastic dinosaurs. In the second picture, peeking out from behind one of the pots, there is another plastic dinosaur - the fabled crocodile.

Alex saw me taking the pictures from his kitchen window, so he knows it has been immortalised.

But I haven't addressed the question I posed - what is our signature scent for the summer? I came across this phrase years ago when someone told me what her signature scent was. Florine was her name, and her Signature Scent was Red Door, by Elizabeth Arden. I was quite taken with the idea, but really I have too many different kinds of perfume and am much too flighty to have a single scent that expresses the ME. Until this year. And you know what it is? It also comes in a red package, spray or roll on. It is RID. Yes, the insect repellent. Because with the summer comes the flies, and this year is no exception. Trendy? Sexy? Effective? I just won't leave the house without it.

Love those legacies

When we needed a new computer, some while ago now, our Son-Out-Law offered to build one to our specifications. Oooh!

Make it fast with great graphics, so we can play The Sims at speed! OK, no problem.

Give us six or more USB ports so we can dangle peripherals all over it! OK, no problem.

Give us a 3 1/2 inch disk drive! Huh? Whatever for?? Said the SOL. Why don't you just use memory sticks? Because we still have old disks, and because we are old fogies. OK, he said, and found one somewhere. We have used it, and I am glad we have it.

Give us two serial ports! Huh? Whatever for?? Said the SOL. Because we have LEGACY TECHNOLOGY, that's why. He shrugged, and said OK, and the new beast was delivered as specified.

Now despite the waves of E-Bay frenzy and general de-cluttering, we still have our two electronic books hanging around. Two Rocket e-books - His and Hers. If you've never seen one, here it is:



(Note the Pug coaster - nearby there is a pug mouse mat too.) I've long had a thing for electronic books, having done a consultancy assignment on them once in the dark ages (1986). I spoke about them at conferences, talked about them, thought about them, had to have one. So a big part of me resisted the idea of ebaying them.

The Women's Library, where I am a volunteer, has a book discussion group. Being a huge fan of Willa Cather, I suggested one of my favourites for a forthcoming group - A Lost Lady. Where is my copy? Looking, looking. Uh Oh. Purged in the Great Book Purge of 2005.

Thinks - this book was published in 1923. Maybe it is available digitally? I look. It is. I download it. Thinks - I'll put it on my Palm using DropBook and Palm Reader. I do that, it works. Reading on the Palm is a little bit small though, and I remember the ebooks. I wonder whether they will still work? They'll need to be fired up to be ebayed (if I decide to do that.) Rootling around in all the electricals, both of them come to the surface. I plug the cables into the sneered-at dinosaur-age serial port, fire up the CD with its software, and turn everything on. It works. Both books are just fine. Not a glitch, not a configuration problem, nothing. I am stunned.

A Lost Lady is a fine book. I am reading it in bed with the backlighting set at 60%. Ain't technology grand?

Home alone

After the Iron Chef episode, the food story goes sadly downnill. The Man has gone overseas. It is just the Pug and the Cat and me. Our mission, and we chose to accept it, is to go through the packets and cans and Unidentified Frozen Objects to search and destroy.... or eat. Because I am both extravagant and parsimonious, it is the latter.

So, the last piece of frozen Christmas cake, which I made myself to my mother's recipe, was very expensive and reasonably good. Still a sliver to go.

The last half frozen bagel was breakfast with vegemite. The box of tofu mix - mixed, set, pressed, chunked, dusted with potato flour, deep fried in my quite good attempt at agedashi tofu. The Cottee's raspberry jelly. Jellied, eaten. Never much trouble dealing with jelly, especially Red Jelly.

The can of Chicken Tamales in green sour cream and chile sauce. Well, at least half of it. The other half will probably be compost tomorrow.

The last two lots of frozen bread turned into toasted cheese sandwiches for lunch. Carrots and celery and ginger and parsley, all juiced and drunk.

We are coming down to the wire. What about that packet of Four Cheeses sauce? The macaroni is waiting for it, but it is sure to be gluey and horrible. What about the besan flour that has been in the freezer since 1995? Or the Masa Harina in the freezer I brought back from Mexico? I managed to throw out the jar of tamarind puree - the mold was quite a work of art. The Quaker Instant Grits? No way. I'll eat grits no matter how old they are, and I have to keep them in case one day I have no grits at all (shudder }}}} )

The vietnamese rice paper wrappers? The iced over won ton wrappers? The Sara Lee croissants? ( I think I can deal with those, and they are only a couple of weeks old...) The marinated tofu wrappers? The Japanese sesame nori sprinkles? Some of those went onto a salad.

What was I saying about getting down to the wire? What will I do with the pomegranate molasses? I can't go on. What's that??? Lurking up there in the unreachable upper cupboards????? Oh no, it is instant red bean paste powder. I kid you not. There is a box there. Instant red bean paste powder. There were two sachets, now there is one.


See? The box says I will enjoy its great taste. The box says Step 3: taste great when served immediately.

Ummmmm - there is one sachet left. Ummmmm..........