An Adventure in Structured Knitting

I had to wonder if I’d made a bad decision.  We were only five minutes in and I was already thinking, “crap; this is going be one of those types of things.”  Whatever those is; does anyone ever know when they say that?  I’m not sure I knew, but it is what I was thinking.

This month, I started a new knitting class.  Actually, it’s my first ever knitting class.  The yarn and fabric store next to the office that I mentioned the other day offers knitting, quilting and other sewing classes.  Mommy’s gone to a few quilting ones and enjoyed them, so I thought I’d give a knitting one a try.

This class isn’t an entry-level class, but it’s still simple enough to be a good beginner’s program.  The idea is that each month we’ll learn a new knitting technique by using that technique in a single square, and at the end of a year we’ll put all the different squares together into a blanket.  We’re using a book called Building Blocks by Michelle Hunter. 

And we are following the book.  Rules.  Rules and me, we have a special relationship, one of those ones where you’re so close you know what the other means despite what they say.  The Rules say, “do this.”  And I say, “ok.”  And I know what the rules really mean is, “do something kinda like this that gets you a similar, better or good enough result.”  And the Rules know I mean, “I sort of will, but I’m totally going to experiment.”  And we’re all good.   Except other people, they don’t really get mine and Rules’ close special relationship.

The way this class started, I thought Rules and I were going to be beefing.  Everyone began casting on their project, except me.  The teacher had taken my yarn away.  No, I wasn’t trying to eat it.  I had bought one of those skeins were it’s not all put in a nice center-pull ballish shaped thing.  She said I couldn’t use it like that.  I usually do, until it gets super knotted and I pause to wind the rest of it into a ball.  So she took it away and had the store lady wind it into a cylinder on a machine.  Pout.

Once I had my yarn, I was ready start.  Cast-on here I come!  Except, the book said we had to do a long-tail cast-on.  Long-tail is the first cast-on I learned, and my least favorite.  Bigger pout.  I dislike it for a number of reasons, it’s hard to judge how much of a tail you’ll need so you can wind up having to start over multiple times or waste a lot of yarn with a big tail left over, my cast-on stitches tend to come out too tight and uneven, and I always forget how to do it.  But, the teacher said we were using this method for a reason and I was here to improve the knitting skills in my arsenal, so I peered over my neighbor’s shoulder and started casting on with a long tail.  It’s uneven. *shrug* Maybe next time will be better.

This particular square is a tweed pattern done completely in knits and purls.  By the time class ended, my square was more than half done.  I was very happy. One thing that worried me when signing up for the class was how much other knitting I’d be able to do.  Would the class project take up all my knitting time?  (I only spend so much time at church, watching football and sitting on public transit.)  Looks like I’ll be able to keep most of that knitting time for other mis-adventures.

The other thing that worried me about the class is what I’d find there.  I’d like to say I didn’t know what to expect, but honestly, it’s more that I had preconceived notions of little old Midwestern ladies with lots of medications and aches to talk about, and I was fearing I’d be right.  I was wrong. Yay!  There were seven of us, all ladies, spanning a good range of ages.  The class is taught by Mrs. Eileen Waldo who’s living the retired woman’s dream, hanging out in a yarn store, teaching classes and offering her fiber expertise to all those who need it.  Sadly, one of the other younger ladies decided she’s really more of a crocheter and won’t be back for this particular class.  She did sell her book to someone in the store, so we’ll at least have a new person.

I’m missing the next two classes because I’ll be out of town for both of them – opposite coasts.  But, I’m excited to rejoin the group in February.  …Unless I go on that Mission trip.  Then I’ll be back in March. … Unless that’s the weekend I’m supposed to be in Sacramento.  …Well, April, at the very least April.

My square at the end of the first class.

Be Careful What You Ask For

They say, “be careful what you ask for.”  Especially when asking God.  He’ll give it to you, and not always in the way you expect, or want.

I was sitting around, having one of those imaginary conversations in my head like I like to do, this one in English, explaining to some imaginary person about why I went into the Peace Corps.  It got me thinking about times God’s answered my prayers, and it made me think of one particular instance that always makes me laugh.

In the summer of 2007 (a year conspicuously missing from this blog), I did a 6-week study abroad summer program with Vandy in Venice, Italy.  Classes during the day, excursion trips here and there.  Very fun.  There was a large group of us, I’d guess around 20 something, in the program.  We all booked our own flights and found our own housing arrangements.  I shared a flat with a delightful couple and another friend.  It was wonderful.  Photo above: our group at a winery tour.

In this group was one particular classmate that had driven a lot of us nuts throughout our first year of classes.  And now, here he was again, in our very small and always together summer program class.  Ugh.

As the weeks of class went on, I found myself being rather mean.  Probably not to his face - though I honestly can’t claim that for sure – but, definitely snide in conversations with my friends where we’d talk about how obnoxious he was and how much he annoyed us.

I didn’t like this me.  I don’t like being mean, and I don’t want to be a mean person.  So at night, when I’d get ready for bed, I’d tack on to my prayers a request for patience and for me to be nicer to him.

I don’t know what I expected.  To gradually just start having more patience?  To magically become nicer without any work on my part?  For him to become less obnoxious or annoy me less so I’d be nicer?  It doesn’t work like that.  No, not at all.

As the program wound down, we were all excited to head back and start our first summer legal internships.  I was also relieved to be getting away from the group, and particularly that guy.

We were pretty much all leaving on different days, depending on people’s schedules for their internships, extra tourism plans and whatnot.  As I mentioned above, we all booked our own flights.  On my departure day, I headed to the airport to fly home.  I boarded my flight, this giant jumbo jet to go across the ocean, and who’s sitting in the seat next to mine?  That guy from my class.

Me and that guy from my class for the next 7 or so hours, with only each other for company, in a sealed metal tube hurling above the ocean.  “God, this is not what I meant!”

It turned out to be a great flight.  He’s not truly obnoxious, just highly energetic and genuine in a way that’s so unusual it can come off as fake if you’re too full of your own thoughts to pay attention.  We had a wonderful time and by the time that plane landed, I considered him a friend.

It makes me laugh because I never would have prayed “God, please let me be trapped next to this guy for 7 or 8 hours so I can learn to like him.”  But that’s exactly how I found myself being nice to him, and I then didn’t need the patience I’d asked for either.

If I Can’t Be a Housewife, I’m at least Dressing like One

“Mommy, Betty White’s wearing my dress!”  I exclaimed into the phone.  I’d been watching Life with Elizabeth on the Roku’s Pop Films Classic TV channel.  - I love that show; Betty White in 1954, amazing.  Anyway…  Just a few weeks earlier I had finished this fabulous new dress and here was Betty White, 60 years ago, wearing a dress of the exact same cut.  I was thrilled.

I found the fabric first.  In the new knitting and quilting shop that opened up next door to the office.  Danger Will Robinson, DANGER!!!!  I can’t remember what I’d actually gone in there for.  Perhaps to finally see it.  The building had been built my great-grandfather as his store front and home when he was a Roundy’s salesman, well before being elected to the judiciary.  Unlike all the other buildings he built, I’d never been in it.  The ladies at Bungalow Quilting & Yarn have done a great job incorporating the original feel of the building into their shop.  It was while I was admiring this that I also found myself admiring some fabulous fabric. 

Pattern-colored, with pattern instructions and images sprawling across the fabric.  A nice, soft, light cotton.  This place isn’t your standard big box discount store, so I gathered together some resolve and left the store without it.  Then I got a coupon in my email a few weeks later.  I knew exactly what I wanted.

“What are you going to make with it?”  “I want to make a dress, use this for the bodice.”  The lady looked at me skeptically.  “Let us know how that turns out.”  I can’t blame her.  I’m sure “dress!” is not the first thing that comes to most people’s minds upon seeing that fabric.  But then, I never claim to be most people.

Mommy and I took the fabric and headed to JoAnn’s to find a suitable pattern and a coordinating fabric for the skirt.  At first, I was thinking maybe a pattern similar to the one that’s depicted on the fabric, but honestly, that style doesn’t work well on my jumbo-muscle thighs.  Instead, I picked out a fabulous Retro Butterick pattern from 1950, B6055.  We perused the general cottons, blends and quilting fabrics looking for something that would go well with one of the colors in the bodice fabric and me.  Mommy found the most delightful and perfect fabric, mint with large white polka dots!

I’m sort of notorious for messing with patterns.  Altering the sizes, the style, the embellishments.  This time, the only alteration I made was to leave off the pockets.  They looked as though they’d be an awful temptation for creating cell-phone destruction through gravity. 

I suppose I can’t really claim no pockets as the only change since I also slightly modified the belt.  The belt called for a 1” buckle.  We couldn’t find a 1” buckle at JoAnn’s or in Mommy’s stash, so I improvised.  Instead, I put two  button holes in the belt, one at each end, and secured it with a large cuff link.  I love it!  It looks awesome and the cuff link seems to keep the belt from spinning around my waist.   The belt currently isn’t size adjustable, but if I ever need it to be, I can just add another button hole at either end.  I also made the belt double-sided so it can match either the bodice or the skirt.

Oh, and I also added a skirt lining.  I guess I messed with the pattern more than I realized at the time. The polka dot fabric is pretty thin, so I added a slip-style lining with natural-colored muslin from my large bolt.  Basically, I cut the skirt out of both fabrics, assembled the lining and skirt separate, basted them at the waist with wrong sides together and sewed the bodice to the whole skirt unit. 

After wearing the dress, I also wish I’d have lined the whole bodice in the polka dots instead of just doing the collar with facing like the pattern says.  Then I would be able to turn up my sleeves and have little polka dot cuffs.  I may go back and add some false cuffs to it.

I love the dress.  I love how it turned out.  I love that it fits me pretty much perfectly.  And I really, really love, that I just happened to already have shoes in the exact right color and style.  It also goes great with mouse ears and pearls.

LA Should be Beautiful This Time of Year, All that Snow

We were standing next to the empty tracks shivering, Munchkinhead and me.  “Which sleeping car is it like?”  She asked me through chattering teeth.  “The second one,”  I replied bouncing up and down to stay warm.  We laughed.  No one had mentioned White Christmas, but I knew exactly what she was referencing, what she was asking about.  We’re sisters; we work like that.    At MKA Amtrak Station after Mommy dropped us off.

It was the start of our great #Schultzsters Adventure, a hashtag created for us by the darling Meg&Jack who rather adorably assumed we already called ourselves that.  We do now. 

The dates had been announced nearly a year ago.  The next California State Bar Intellectual Property Section Annual Intellectual Property Institute would be held on November 6th and 7th.  Our Executive Committee meeting would be held the day before that, on the 5th, exactly one day after Munchkinhead’s birthday.  When the location was announced, there was only one idea in my head.  The Orange County Hyatt at Disneyland.  “Hey Munchkinhead, wanna go to Disneyland for your birthday?”

Before long, we had a sleeper car room reserved on the Southwest Chief, going from Chicago through Kansas City to Los Angeles.  Through Kansas City?!  A little bit longer and lot bit prodding later, Alfred had a ticket to join us.  And we were off!

Munchkinhead and I started in Milwaukee on the Hiawatha and switched trains in Chicago.  Thanks to our sleeper car – and thanks to Amtrak’s fabulous reward miles program for that free sleeper! – we got to hang out in the fancy lounge where we giggled with anticipation as we ate peanut butter sandwiches out of a Victoria’s Secret bag.  Ah, lunch on the road.

We left Chicago just before 4pm and by 10ish, were in Kansas City, eagerly running around the platform looking for Alfred.  When she and Munchkinhead spotted each other on the platform, there was running from both directions and a giant group hug in the middle of the main walkway.  And chatter.  So much chatter.  Alfred slept in coach that first night and we traded the next night so she could have a bed, though I heard Munchkinhead made her climb into the upper berth.   Munchkinhead in our Sleeper Car, excited for the adventure.

 Schultzsters

We hung out together in our room and in the observation car, knitting, cross-stitching and watching the landscape run past.  At smoking breaks, where the train stops for longer amounts at a station and the passengers can detrain for a bit, we drank in fresh air, took pictures with the station signs and stood together singing “Snow. Snow. Snow. Snow. Snow!”  Apparently we were all trying to be Judy.

Me and Alfred in Albuquerque

Munchkinhead in San Bernadino

By the time we reached our final destination of Fullerton, CA, I think we were rather infamous among the train passengers.  Munchkinhead had been wearing her special Birthday Star plastic canvas crown around the train, especially to meals.  People not only wished her happy birthday when she had it on, they wished her happy birthday or asked if she was the birthday girl when she wasn’t wearing it.  The people near Alfred’s coach seat knew about our adventure and were very nice when I swapped places with her.  And then there was that thing with my phone.  It slid off the seat into a narrow crevice between the seat frame and the shelf/stairs for the upper bed.  It took two guys 20 minutes, a knife, a folded paper bag and a crowbar to retrieve it.  I’m still rather amazed they managed to do it.

We had a fabulous time riding the train together.  The trip seemed super short.  We’ll have to find somewhere to go together that takes longer to get to, and maybe to somewhere that actually has snow.

It’s Cold Outside…

You’re either now singing a Christmas tune or the theme song from Red Dwarf.  Me, I’m doing the later while dancing in my fabulous new pink flannel jammies! 

It seemed like a very silly project to be doing in August, but in Wisconsin, August quickly gives way to chilly fall nights.  Mommy and I found the pink checked flannel on a trip to JoAnn’s.  Since my two pairs of jammies – both satin jammies from Vickie’s – are falling apart after years of year-round wear in the Bay Area, I thought it’d be nice to have a new set.

The pattern wasn’t too hard and there was a surprising amount of room for creativity and fun because we didn’t purchase any piping.  Instead, we raided Mommy’s boxes of piping packets collected by various grandmothers and such over the past 50ish years.  We did the same for the buttons in the time capsule of button tins.

The pajamas have piping on the sleeve and leg faux cuffs, along the collar edge, down the front opening and on the pockets.  There wasn’t enough of any one piping to do everything, so I mixed and matched.  The legs and arms have black.  The pockets have pink.  The front opening has a fun bright robin's egg blue and the collar has a slightly peachier pink.

I don’t remember how many buttons it was supposed to have, but we found three big, flat pink buttons so Mommy put 3 button holes in the placket.  I sewed the buttons on.

Personally, I think the jammies turned  out really cute.  And they’re so warm.  Perfect for snuggling down into bed on a chilly night.

Pattern: Simplicity 2371, same as Monkey pants I made for Mr. Trizzle; Currently available for sale here.