Another Fairytale of New York

We're going to the Pogues show at Roseland in March! I sort of happened upon tickets. For those of you who love them, well, you know. For the rest of you, hie thee to "If I Should Fall From Grace with God," "Peace and Love," and "Rum Sodomy and the Lash."

The only drawback might be that it's their St. Paddy's weekend show and it's general admission at Roseland. Drunken mob, anyone? Or maybe A and I will be our own personal drunken mob. That'd be fun.

Now don't forget to vote for your special Boyfriend! No has secret yearnings for Voldemort? And nobody voted for Severus! Come on people, it's not like he's taken...

P.S.

Your Brain is Purple

Of all the brain types, yours is the most idealistic. You tend to think wild, amazing thoughts. Your dreams and fantasies are intense. Your thoughts are creative, inventive, and without boundaries. You tend to spend a lot of time thinking of fictional people and places - or a very different life for yourself.

What Color Is Your Brain?

Eerily accurate for a crappy 4-question online quiz. Or does this describe every single person I know? Hmmm.

Fairytale of New York--the Most Beautiful Christmas Song Ever Written--And Now You Too Can Sing Along!

It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you

Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true

They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me

You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night

The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day

You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy f****t
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last

I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you

--The Pogues
(yes, I expurgated that one little word--but you know what it says)

Happy Winter Solstice

What holidays? I'm Jewish, after all, and Chanukah is over. So I thought, just skim lightly over the holidays. That was my personal resolution. No stockings to fill, no tree to decorate. But in between baking for A's work events and E's school parties, and attending this and that, conceptualizing presents, it is a little more intense than I imagined. Well, so be it.

I have to say that I enjoy the festive feel and the lights everywhere. This is the darkest time of year--there's a reason we all, no matter who we are, try to light a candle against the gloom. And the baking is always fun. It makes me feel capable. The funny thing is, A came home yesterday with the tragic (and embarrassing) tale of how he spilled the entire platter of office Christmas cookies all over the floor. I asked if people were mad, and he said no, they just stood around looking sadly at the ruination of the snacking. So he's requested a big batch of my specialty, molasses ginger crackle cookies (have any of you had these? they're unfailingly glorious) to bring to work on Monday. That's the kind of task I love.

And tonight is the Solstice--my dad always marked it, and now I find it worth marking myself. It's a scientific measure of time and season, but also a little magical. So, Happy Solstice!

***

In the meantime, I've been working on a gazillion craft projects. I've joined a truly congenial stitch marker swap, and here's what I did for that:











Also, I'm working on really simple garter stitch baby blankets for two extremely preemie twin girls. I decided to go with muted neutral colors in slightly different combinations:



And finally, a new ripple. I was inspired by Faycat's ripple in Knitpicks shine worsted, all the different colors (except black), which I had the chance to admire at a crafting Sunday I had at my house a couple of weeks ago (bagels, lox, knit and crochet projects, and gossip--what could be better?). But my camera wouldn't capture the cheery melange of colors.

Please Master

That's Coney, a wicked little dog of our acquaintance, begging my mother-in-law with haunted eyes: "'Suffering has a peculiar attraction for me. Nothing can intensify my passion more than tyranny, cruelty, and especially the faithlessness of a beautiful woman...'* please, I beg of you--roast beef, before another moment passes unsatiated..." I just finished "Venus in Furs." All I can say is, either you're the hammer or the anvil. And although this dog seems to be the anvil, in fact he's the hammer. And therein lies the secret to life and relationships.

Every waking second of the last four days not spent reading "Structural Change in Large Municipal Police Organizations During the Community Policing Era" and "Venus in Furs" has been spent obsessing over my latest oeuvre, a very long and winding piece of Severus fan fiction. After reading so many (many) variants on my beloved Potions Master by all and sundry (some, I might add are darn good writers), I decided to add my own voice to the slightly maladapted but fun-loving choir. It's like sitting around eating bonbons, that's how much fun it is. 55 pages and counting. Guess how many pages my dissertation is?



*from "Venus in Furs," von Sacher-Masoch

Baby Surprise Jacket

Here she is, the BSJ that is my new BFF. I only wish I'd taken photos of it at its weirdest most mystifying stage, when it looks, as variously described, like a "rumpled bath mat" and a "manta ray," the part of the pattern where Elizabeth Zimmerman says "...trust me, and PRESS ON." Once you've folded it, all is revealed. Actually, A could see from the pattern how it was going to fold, and made me a little paper model to show it would work. You know, I really was good in high school geometry, and also the part of the IQ test where you have to make up patterns from individual blocks...but still, even with the paper sweater model, I could hardly see how it was going to work. But work it did. This is a virtuosic pattern. If you need more convincing, read this. I can't wait to try this with all different yarns. I want to adapt the recipe for E. And don't all of you preggies need one for your nascent gals?

Scarves

I've mailed off my ISE packages--one to my pal and one to an angel-ee--and thought I'd post some pics. The first is a zigzag pattern done in jade Tillie Tomas silk:



This is the unblocked scarf. It had a persistent tendency to roll at the edges, nearly into a tube. I'm praying that the aggressive blocking ameliorated this somewhat, because I really did love this scarf...oh, dear...

The second, a surprise for my angel-ee, whose partner dropped out of ISE at the last moment (bah on them!), is shifting sands. I loved this pattern, done up in Schaefer Yarns memorable women series--the Frida Kahlo colorway. I think these are fabulous. I also have a skein of Catherine the Great. I have so many suggestions, though, for colorways: shouldn't there be a Shirley Jackson color? Maybe blacks and greys with a hint of blue? And how 'bout Madeleine Albright? She deserves a "memorable women" yarn named after her. I digress. Here's the scarf:

S-s-sooooo C-c-cooooold

I'm freezing. A bitter wind is howling outside my window, rattling the skylight, blowing the last leaves off the trees. Very atmospheric, but oh so chilly. The coffee at my side is already cool. In response I've taken up the following: 1. drinking tea (unusual for me, but I've discovered hot ginger tea with sugar), 2. knitting myriad fingerless gloves out of warm wools, 3. catalogue shopping for flannel lined jeans, fleece p.j.s and parkas, none of which I especially like but all of which seem the epitome of warmth, 3. wearing my late father-in-law's slippers, and 4. wearing my ISE5 scarf around the house. Why is it so bloody cold in here? I hear the radiators groaning. Where's the heat?

I'm also working out my dissertation methodology. There's not enough caffeine in the world for this task.

p.s. this is fun:

I Scored a 100%!

You'd better get 100% or you'll have to answer to me and the spelling gods!

As the Year Draws to a Close, an Old Dog Learns New Tricks...

I'm the old dog in question, and I picked up a skill this week that I can't sufficiently sing the praises of. I'm working on a shifting sands scarf from the annals of Grumperina. It's so much fun, but involves a constant flow of little teeny weeny cable repeats, which become cumbersome, unless you take Grumperina's advice and learn to cable without a needle. I did it! My life as a knitter is forever changed. It took a little practice to master, as it involves a little dance of needles and frighteningly disengaged stitches, but now I'm so quick at it that it takes only a moment longer than a regular knit or purl stitch. This is one of my greatest accomplishments of 2007, and I'm not kidding.

My other 2007 knitting revelation was the Baby Surprise Jacket, from Elizabeth Zimmerman. Brooklyn Tweed has a stunning example of this magical invention, along with some good commentary...mine is made from Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino leftover from a baby ripple I did recently. I'll post a pic as soon as I sew the buttons on. I'm thinking of doing some sculpey buttons--lately A and E have been really into this stuff, spending whole afternoons making miniatures (A made me a little violin with a flamed wood back), beads for E's earrings, and some snakes and snails. But I might coopt some of the pearly pink for sweater buttons.

More anon.

Pixie Totally Rocked the ISE5!

My secret pal, Pixie, gave me such a mood lift this morning with her incredibly thoughtful and lovely package. I was just blown away by this gift. First, the scarf:



I tried and tried, but couldn't capture the subtle beauty of this thing. Instead, let me describe it: Malabrigo in "Brown Berries" colorway--soft, muted pinks and browns (some of my favorite colors). The pattern of waves is perfect for this yarn--the scarf is soft, silky, and dense. I'm wearing it right now, and it is so luxe and cozy. I've always coveted Malabrigo, and now I'm incontrovertibly in love.

With the scarf came a whole host of wonderful presents:



Will you look at this? TWO skeins of this stunning handpainted yarn, in my other favorite color, garnet. I'm already looking ahead to their transformation--into my current obsession, fingerless gloves--do you think it's okay if I keep them for myself?

Also,



such goodies. Godiva chocolate (I already ate one--I mean, immediately), chocolate Hanukkah gelt, a personable little sheep, a festive Maryland crab bottle opener ( I foresee a celebratory Pilsner in my immediate future), (not pictured) a personalized Leah candy cane and a Maryland postcard, and this wonderful delicious-smelling manicure kit for my poor cold-battered hands (how did Pixie know?).

Then, the lovely Pixie included this



for my beady little girl. E is going to freak. She loves to be included in things, and I'm touched that Pixie sent along something so perfect for her.

All of this bounty was wrapped in Hanukkah paper, and labeled with little tags. I was almost speechless at this gift from a delightful stranger, except that I'm never really speechless. But could anything, or anyone, be sweeter?

Brooklyn Sorceress

Last night was Halloween in our small-town Brooklyn. We had a last-minute emergency over E's planned viper crown; I had been crocheting a version out of gold thread, but it was judged not up to snuff (it became her staff instead). At the very last minute, A stepped in with some fimo, two blue jewels, and toothpicks, and came up with a really pretty amazing snake tiara, which passed muster:



We accomplished trick-or-treating on nearby streets, one of which is closed off every Halloween for the children. It's really quite a carnival atmosphere, and so much fun. I wish I'd gotten pictures of the revelry, but was caught up in the moment and couldn't lay hands on my camera. It would have been a blur anyway. We met up with many friends, mine and E's, and had a grand time. Needless to say, the cauldron was full by 7p.m.



Brooklyn trick-or-treating in the 1970s and '80s, my childhood era and my sissy's, always seemed much more laden with danger and menace, not from the supernatural, but from the criminal. Things were different back then in NYC. 42nd Street between 6th and 8th Avenues, "The Deuce" in police lingo, really exemplified all the seediness, the frotteurs, the high violent crime rate, the aggressive subway panhandlers, the grafitti, of the city. Sometimes now my family says that things are once again "going to the Deuce," but by and large that doesn't really seem to be the case. I think some New Yorkers may be nostalgic for that time--but it's not the crime and fear that I miss, but rather the mom-and-pop shops, the little butchers and bakers, and a viable middle class. I just don't understand why that great stuff had to go along with the neighborhood XXX theater and local flashers. Or maybe I do. It seems a terrible shame. But, unlike others, who are either delusional or didn't live here in the '70s and '80s, I'm never, ever going to romanticize the grit of yore. It just wasn't as safe here when I was little. Might I add at this point a big shout-out to the NYPD, who finally have sound policy and laws to back up their enforcement and stave off the Deuce.

All that said, E and I headed home early. The trick-or-treating mood definitely darkens as the sun goes down...once I see cop cars out and about, I'm glad to be cozy in our home. Small-town Brooklyn is, at least on Halloween, a phenomenon of the daylight hours, and NYC "tricks" will always be more than raw egg splatter and toilet papered trees.

Down from the soapbox and off to do the dishes.