Last-minute change of plans

I'm going to TNNA in Indianapolis after all! Will I see you there?

My favorite cool thing this week

How did I not know this existed? It seems 189 people have joined the Flickr group called "Knits from Knitty". They show pics of their Knitty-based knits in progress or finished and it's an amazing resource.

So many Clapotises! [How DO you pluralize that?] A really gorgeous Rosedale. Kate the britchy cat in every color combination! And tons more.

Definitely bookmarking this one.

why I wish I could be in NYC on June 24th

Cara's making it happen, with permits and everything... Spin OUT! Support Heifer International and have a hella fun day spinning [and knitting] in the middle of Central Park.

MAN, I wish NYC was a little closer.

all feex

That was fun, eh?

Anyway, all is back to normal and as far as I can tell, no one's having any more trouble getting at Knitty. The blog works. Do the happy dance!

Today is cold, grey and rainy, but this weekend promises to be lovely and sunny. Maybe even hot. Just in time for me to finish my No Sheep samples and edit the patterns.

There will also be some serious Crafternoon Tea activity for me on Saturday...[you ARE coming, yes? this is Toronto's equivalent to the Renegade or the Bizarre Bazaar! How could you miss it?] and an inaugural paddle in the new kayak on Sunday.

um, whoopsie

Today's surprise blew out our bandwidth on the new [supposedly better] server we've just moved to. The short version is that we're moving back. Hopefully by the weekend, all will be as it was, with no unpleasant delays forcing you to wait your turn to see a bit of Knitty.

If the blog goes byebye, that'll be temporary and related to the server switch. I'll fix it all, no worries.

my goal

I'm not knocking a hole in the wall so I can get to the backyard like she can, and I can't bend space and make my tiny office twice as big as it is, so I'll have as much room as she does...

But I can aim high and get as close as possible. Stay tuned.

Let's do LAUNCH!

It's finally time and Jillian and I are way excited.

You write a book. You sweat over it, wondering what people will think of it, and then it comes out. What do you do? You throw a party!

So if you're going to be anywhere near East Lansing, Michigan, this Saturday -- come to ThreadBear Fiber Arts Studio and celebrate with us!

Festivities start at 3pm and go until the boys throw us out. There will be books and signings and hugging and delicious treats and definitely yarn shopping. Big girls and small, and boys too -- all are welcome. We hope to see you there!

tonight...

things are going well. tuscany the 2nd [the one that's going in the book] is 3 rows from completion and survived being on bamboo needles that Boeing nipped in half and munched on, this past Mother's Day...without touching the shawl. the other project i'm designing/knitting for No Sheep was finally cast on tonight after a relatively simple swatching process. i found just the right stitch for this yarn and i'm happy.

the rabbits are devouring their nightly ration of pellets. hub is snoring in the next room, as he is wont to do. the bills are paid this month and i'm surrounded by really good people. i get to hug one of them in three days, and kiss her kids and celebrate her hub's birthday.

whoever's responsible, thank you. now please, send some good stuff to my sister. it's her turn.

my stalker loves me

Did you know I have a stalker? I didn't either, until she introduced herself to me. Hi, Karen! As stalkers go, she's gotta be the nicest one. No death threats and she always smiles. I've even met her mom. I think I've seen Karen in at least 3 states so far...am I right?

Anyway, I recently expressed the selfish wish [while visiting the charming Knitty chat, now residing on an IRC server at blitzed.org -- don't ask me how to link that, please] that I really wanted to open my Knitty PO box and have a bunch of Nauties tumble out. Despite the silliness of the statement, Karen, my official stalker, took it upon herself to actually knit me a nautie. And it arrived last week.

It's perfect! It's pink! It has thingies growing out of its head! I love it! Thank you, Karen. It's all strung up with invisible thread and hanging over my tiny desk in my tiny office.

[and btw, the pink coily thing in the background is just a doodad that lives on my bulletin board, not an extra protrusion from my new Nautie]

Do not mess with the DNS

Remind me next time I decide to move servers on a weekend...DNS propagates on its own schedule. Plus, it helps if you call your webhost and let them know you're actually ready to go live. [erp]

In any case, if you can read this, we're live again in your part of the world.

Knitty's moving [just a little to the left]

It's time, so we're moving Knitty to a better server. That means this blog and the entire magazine might be a little spotty, accesswise, over the next 24 hours.

Fear not. Any disruption in access is just temporary. Besides, shouldn't you be hugging your mom today anyway?

Tuscany update, final installment

Highlights only. I'm good with the bullet points. If you want to follow along, the Flickr album has pictures of all of this, in order.

Day 5:
- bonus "we wanna stay an extra day in Firenze" day
- quick road trip to Catinari chocolate factory [mmmmmmm]
- back to the hotel, off for a walk and crap, where's my wallet? people warned me about this!
- wallet is on my bed, under the scarf I pulled out of my purse
- hub and I take a walk and never quite get where we're going, but manage to find our way out past the city wall
- for dinner, we have no reservation, but what the heck -- let's go back to Teatro del Sale and see if we can get in
- we got in! dinner was amazing, though definitely more work to get to the food in the packed room
- walking back to the hotel after the post-dinner performance [strange eastern fusion jazz band with vocalist] in the cool air, being quite happy to be alive

Day 6:
- all packed and off we go to the countryside
- driving, 10 of us in the Fiat van, along winding, twisty roads along the edge of cliffs
- acres of immaculately trimmed grapevines everywhere
- olive trees, too, just beginning to leaf
- and then the villa, atop a cliff
- owned by a world-renowned architect and interior designer
- each bedroom features linens from his company's collection [linen sheets, people. mmm.]
- a place unlike any we've ever seen before, let alone stayed in
- knitting on terrace overlooking vineyards and other estates
- we drive to an Agritourismo [b&b and restaurant and farm] where I fall in love with a 3-week old puppy i am told is "leeeeetle dogg". her name is Carolina. i would bring her home if hub would let me. she sucks on my fingers.
- wine tasting and introduction to the signature wine of the region Brunello di Montalcino and the less renowned [but more to my taste] Rosso.
- dinner with wild boar and other local deliciousnesses

Day 7:
- cooking lesson at Albergo Il Silene where we all helped Roberto -- owner and amazing chef, also very cute -- make the best chocolate non-rising souffle you can imagine
- amazing handmade pasta, insanely delicous risotto, carpaccio like buttah
- hub and i learn, to our dismay, that we really never want to taste truffle again, ever
- pitstop at Castel del Piano, home of Corsini cookies...the best cookies in the world and don't try to tell me otherwise
- another yarn shop, where they also carry bras and sewing notions. i buy yarn.
- more knitting on the terrazzo

Day 8:
- off in the van again to Bagno Vignoni, ancient roman baths
- sadly, no yarn to be found, but i knit in the van :-)
- also no bathing allowed at the roman baths.
- i somehow manage to totally miss the one spot where people can dip toes because i'm too busy knitting
- next stop, lunch at an organic farm [Podere Il Casale]. everything we ate was grown on the farm, including the olive oil, cheese and honey
- the food is plentiful and delicious. my favorite dish is the boiled-then-fried in olive oil cabbage, that reminds me SO MUCH of my grandma's [even though she was Hungarian, not Italian]. I clean the plate and leave the pasta for everyone else.
- a bottle of olive oil and a jar of honey are purchased and brought home with me
- pitstop on the way home at Pienza, a really beautiful ancient town totally overrun by tourists [much like ourselves]
- evan tells me that if i'm to buy an espresso pot, it must be bialetti
- i choose a 2 cup bialetti at the hardware store in town, and speak as much Italian as i have learned. piccolo is my favorite word today.
- home, amazing dinner at the villa, more knitting and re-learning whist

Day 9:
- Today is Siena day! I am excited!
- Siena is a really cool town laid out by ancient dudes on drugs. We are taken around in the morning by a very knowledgable tour guide who shows us amazing things and always takes the most uncrowded street [bless her]
- we finish at Il Campo [the big square that's not square] and have lunch
- i proceed to get lost turn after turn in this beautiful maze of a town that's overrun by tourists, but somehow manage to get some good artisinal gelato anyway
- i find an amazing yarn store and am so overwhelmed that i buy NOTHING, even though everything was on sale. shoot me.
- back home, and recovery knitting on the terrazzo, so i can catch my breath

Day 10:
- Last day! No!
- Today, Montalcino, the tiny town closest to the villa we're staying at
- Totally NOT overrun by tourists. Overrun, in only the best way, by locals who are sweeter than anything
- Visit to a weaving artist where several of us [not me] buy handwoven jackets and handknit sweaters
- I go to a big leather store [big for this town], choose a wallet for me [orange leather!] one for hub [appropriate black leather, but totally European in design] and a chestnut purse. Total expenditure: 58 euros.
- Hub walks the fort and takes amazing pictures
- I knit overlooking the surrounding hills
- Back to the villa
- Last run to a nearby town to find more wine. I drink Limoncello and like it and manage not to fall on the way back to the van
- Tiziana teaches us how to make pasta. Hub and I want to marry her and bring her home with us.
- Everyone helps Evan cook the most amazing pasta sauce, and Evan finishes the pastas with two different sauces. It is the most amazing meal and we're all nearly silent except for the happy moans of foody enjoyment
- Celebration of Evan's success with her Tuscany shawl!

And the next morning, a 220 euro taxi takes us from Chiusi to Roma so we can fly home. The end.

[Can we go back now?]

uh-oh. busted.

Back in March, Marie Irshad of Knitcast visited Toronto and we got to spend a little time together. There might have been a microphone and minidisc involved. And Denny. LOTS of Denny.

Well, now there's proof of my insanity [and Denny's charm]. Marie's a busy woman, but she's just got that podcast up now so dang, I guess I'd better go listen and see what stupid things I said.

you must see this

I wrote a lengthy diatribe on my opinion of the difference between knitting and crochet in the Interweave Knits blog a few years ago.

Nothing explains my theory better than this -- possibly the most beautiful crocheted object I've ever seen. It couldn't possibly be created any other way -- certainly not with knitting. I'm also heavily impressed by Mandy's crochet skills [she's Knitty's tech editor, you know]. This girl knows her way around a pattern, whatever direction it takes. That scarf is worthy of framing.

starting fresh

Last fall, we had a life-changing experience. A car accident that could have been serious, but thankfully all that was destroyed was our car. The kayaks were on the roof that day, and they somehow survived. They're made to pop back out after impact, though I don't believe the Wilderness Systems dudes meant for us to squish them flat with a CAR. After a day in the sun, hub's was popped out and paddle-able; mine had its rudder ripped clean out at the weld so it was in dry dock until we could have it repaired.

We were fortunate enough to have good insurance, so we got a new car. But the boats? They were just previously squished reminders of a really terrifying day. Oh, and not insured.

Nevertheless, we'd decided to trade in the boats a few weeks ago, and I'd sort of found what seemed like the best candidate. Not as huge and ungainly as my first kayak [a 60lb Pungo], nor as unnecessary overkill as the 2nd [the squished Cape Horn, a much too serious boat for me]. But we didn't actually do anything about it.

Tonight, hub decided to pick me up at the office and the boat was on the roof of the car.

It's a Dagger, model name: Catalyst [yes, it's named after you J!]. 2004 model, discounted. A few feet shorter, a lot more nimble and maybe even more stable than the Cape Horn. I took it for a test paddle, and it's just absolutely right. Mine's much more aqua than the one in the picture.

Starting fresh feels good.

you know one of those days?

I just had one.

Then I came home and hub had cooked as authentic an Italian dinner as he was able. It was mighty good and I cleaned my plate. A little red wine [me? shocking!] and all feels more in balance.

---

Alert! Don't forget: this Friday is our first night at the Spotted Dick (link is in the right navbar with a map). Please join us!

The manager called to confirm our reservation today, so clearly they want us and they know we're coming. Whee!

Tuscany, installment 2

Sorry this is taking so long. Day job. Gots to do what you gots to do, right?
---

Okay, so we left off after Day 3, which was a perfect introduction to Firenze and Italy, what with the food and the yarn and the more yarn and the other food that was also so good.

The one thing I neglected to mention was my Day 3 faceplant. I am a looker when in a new city, and unfortunately, the only way I should have been looking was DOWN. Uneven [ancient, cobbled!], unbelievably narrow sidewalks were my downfall. Literally. The camera survived and my bruises were gone by the time we took the plane home. :-) But there were a few pictures in Firenze I should have taken that I didn't, because I was watching where my feet were going.

Day 4
This was a miraculous day, but I didn't know that when we woke up. On the schedule, a walking tour of Firenze's San Lorenzo Market with Judy Witts of Divina Cucina. Judy is an American who moved to Firenze 22 years ago, married a lovely local Italian man and has made her living giving cooking lessons and food-oriented walking tours in the city. Evan knows how to pick her partners. Judy is amazing.

We headed out, down the same street hub and I had walked quite a few times already, and were directed to the best baker, bookbinder and fun jewellery store within the first 15 minutes. Stores we'd just walked past before.

Then we were at the market. Abundances of Italian food of every description. Prosciutto! Cheese! Olive oil! Balsamico! I walked around taking pictures, often on macro, just to get as much detail as I could. I wanted to bring the smell home with me -- like the best fine food store you've ever been in. Fresh, spotless, aromatic, tantalizing.

We spent a good half hour with the Conti family, tasting their balsamic vinegars and hearing the story about how the father of the family is the man who invented the Jacuzzi. Seriously.

And then we were off to lunch at the "eating club". Now, this didn't really sound very appealing to me. Posh and snobby, maybe? But the walk was interesting, and I didn't really think about where we were going much until we got there.

[Aside: I am a control freak. But for this trip, because I was a guest and not in charge of anything except knitting, I turned off that part of my brain that was responsible for schedules, people enjoying themselves -- and the guilt that follows when someone doesn't like what you chose for them to do for the day -- and anything else. I just went with the flow. Hub was pleasantly surprised by this. It's not something he's used to. :-)]

Okay, so we're there. There is Teatro del Sale, the eating club. But there's no way you can describe this heavenly place with those two simple words.

First, we're required to read the club rules, which involve things like being respectful, asking questions without feeling self conscious, and sharing the names of great establishments with other members. We sign the agreement and are handed our club membership card. 5 euros for a year. Clearly a nominal fee, but one intended to make you aware that this is not just a restaurant you're entering.

And it's not. It's a theatre attached to a kitchen, faced with glass windows to the ceiling. One window opens to the theatre area where huge tables are surrounded by chairs right next to little seats that surround one of the pillars that support the roof. You sit where there's room at Teatro del Sale, including in the lobby and the hallway, in lush, leather chairs and sofas. Very casual.

In the theatre room, a big table is laden with whatever chef Fabio Picchi decides to cook that day. Help yourself but [rule 1], eat everything you take.

This, people, is not hard. Bowls full of lentils, garbanzo beans, flavorful rice salads cover the table. There is a basket of little round breads. Potato bread. Food of the gods, this bread. Savory, dense, and perfect. I could eat this alone and be content.

Suddenly, the chef, who is a striking man with shoulder length grey hair, leans out the window and shouts in a rich baritone, "venti minuti..." and the rest I never really got. He announces the food as it's served to the crowd, and tells you when the next dishes are coming. He tells you to ask at the window if you'd like a bowl of ribollita, a rich bread-based soup. Hub asks. He tells you the pasta is coming.

Pasta is not the usual food of Tuscany -- Tuscany is all about beans, we were told. But thank god our chef does pasta, because this is the dish that makes me melt. Orichiette with a tomato meat ragu, finished with whole eggs. The richness of the sauce. The perfect zing of the tiny dash of chili he's added. The exquisite combination of spices and meats. It's my definition of heaven, and I savor the contents of my well-laden plate till every single morsel is gone.

He serves raw sausage. After the lardo I'd had the day before, I decided to pass, but watched others stunned by how delicious it was. More potato bread. Then he shouts, in a voice so melodious I want to record it, that the meat course is ready. The full dish is called, with all ingredients and flavors, so you know what's coming. His voice. His cooking. His face. I am in love with this man.

Hub understands. He's in love too.

We are reluctant to leave. No photos [rule 2], but we'll never forget it. This experience is exactly what I'd hoped to have in Italy. I feel like someone's given me a perfect gift.

The afternoon is spent walking, browsing, feeling contented, full and happy.

We return to Beatrice Galli to buy more yarn. Beatrice is happy to see us, as we are to see her. We smell the lilacs in her store, fondle her cashmere.

At dinnertime, no one's really hungry. How could we possibly top lunch? We have a short knitting lesson. We walk more. We have espresso.

Good night.

advance nooz

Do you know Kim Komando? Well, a little boid tells me that there'll be something of interest to knitters on her website on May 9th!

Tuscany, installment 1

Lunchbreak at the day job, so time for a little catch up.

Day 1:
We get to the airport very early and are soon told that our flight will be delayed an hour. Oh well. We get on the Boeing [!] 767 and it becomes quickly apparent that they've pulled an old [interior-wise] plane out of storage to fill in for what we were supposed to fly on an hour earlier. The seats in our row [and I imagine the rest of the non-biz-class section] were iron bars covered by a thin layer of fabric. Sore tushies for everyone!

But they gave us gelato for dessert, so all was forgiven 9 hrs later.

[I promise the only bitching I will do is about the flights. I don't get scared, but I do get cranky and antsy having to sit in one place for 9 hours, and so I don't do long flights well, even if the seats are cushy. Which they weren't.]

Day 2:
Next morning already, we land in Rome and are surprised to find that we're in Rome. A wee bit disoriented? We shuttled to the main terminal, got our bags, found our driver and were soon zipping along the highway at 160kph. No exaggeration. It was fun, really -- our driver clearly was practised at driving so fast, as were all the cars around him. Welcome to Italy!

We did, though, miss our scheduled train because of the hour delay out of Toronto. Evan had waited for us, and we found our way on to the next train to Florence and were off. They gave us sweeties and water. Hub said the dining car smelled better than any Italian restaurant he'd ever been in. I stayed put.

The countryside started showing itself outside our train's windows and again we couldn't help but notice that we were in Italy. How did that happen? Beautiful green rolling hills. Thin, pointy Italian Cypress trees lining long roads to terracotta villas. Villas. Villas!

And then we were in Florence, in a taxi, in our gorgeous hotel and in the shower. We changed clothes and headed right out again to figure out where we were. Where we were was right around the corner from the Duomo. Danged nice. We walked and looked and walked and ate tourist pizza [we never did find true Italian pizza]. Somehow hub found the energy to climb inside the dome of S. Maria del Fiore -- the pictures in the Flickr album of that part were all his. Amazing. Then we wandered back to the room. Zzzzzzzz.

Day 3:
We woke to find a freshly printed itinerary had been slipped under our door, so we could see what we were in for in the coming days. Today: walking tour with Gabrielle the trilingual tour guide. We saw a house that Michelangelo had lived in. We saw his sculptures. We stared at Medici relics and were told about history and art and art history and it was all brain numbingly fascinating.

Then to the Ponte Vecchio, home of a billion jewellery stores and twice as many tourists. Despite my usual inability to make a choice when confronted with such abundance, this time I managed to do it, and do it well. I came home with a white gold bracelet that looks like the links are made of two-ply yarn for 100 euros. Score, baby!

Next, off to Beatrice Galli's yarn shop, but first [because, after all, everything closes for lunch between 1 and 3ish], a real Italian meal with Evan. We sat back and let her order, because she clearly is the foody expert. We ate very well. Fresh green Tuscan olive oil, my first taste of Tuscan bread, a bite of lardo [exactly what it sounds like, but delicious, if you can get past the idea of eating tasty lard] and lots of yummy cured meats and piquant cheeses.

Then back to Beatrice [say Bay-ah-tree-chay, please], who was charming and adorable. Knew about Knitty, had seen the Clapotis, and was just fabulous in a very subtle way. She clearly was tickled to have Evan bring in a crazed group of knitters and loved showing us the goodies on her shelves. I asked for "pura seta" and lucked out with the last 5 skeins of a discontinued rich pink -- color 20324 [a Beatrice Galli exclusive -- the yarn is dyed and balled just for her shop]. 12 euros per 150yd skein. Dealio!

Also 4 skeins of pink and black wide furry edged ribbon silliness. It seemed to make sense at the time, cause all of us bought 4 skeins of the fuzz, but in different colorways. Peer pressure is an amazing thing, eh? I believe it will be an Italian shmata of some description when it's done. Lots and lots of great yarns to choose from at half what North Americans usually pay, including Filatura di Crosa, Laines du Nord and Filati King [aka Filtes King, which actually makes no sense to me...what the heck is a Filtes?]. Can you say overwhelmed? I could.

Everyone bought a big bagful of something they loved and then we were off again. Where to? More yarn, of course! Campolmi Filati next, home of ridiculously affordable yarn on cones or huge balls. Didn't grab the silk, but did find some gorgeous 2-ply cotton [that matched my new bracelet] in deep brown. And something for Jillian. Could have filled two suitcases, if I'd had the presence of mind. But as I say, yarn overload had set in early.

Dinner that night was nice, meeting the other members of the group that had just arrived. The highlight was the artisanal gelato, generously doused with spirits. Mine, rum. Vanilla gelato with crunchies, surrounding a pool of rum. And I [the cheapest drunk in the world] felt no effects. Except a happy warmth.

Then, bed.

[end installment 1]