Autumn knitting

I love to knit and crochet.  It is relaxing and I can do it while I watch television or plug in a DVD.  I confess, I am a big time Dr Who fan.   What could be better than knitting on the new afghan while watching Dr. Who, I ask you.   I loved David Tennant as the 10th Dr, but Matt Smith is great too.  My other favourite "knitting" program is "Once Upon a Time".  I am such a romantic.  Fairy Tales are great fun.
 I must say, I'm thrilled with how the afghan is coming up.  I'm using a mix of yarns, featuring the wonderful hand dyed mohair and boucle from Fleece Artist in Nova Scotia.  You can see some of their wonderful colours and yarns here.  I'm also mixing in some interesting Sari Silk yarns I've picked up along the way.  One fortunate thing about my stash - it appears that shades of red and burgundy predominate.  I'm nothing if not consistent apparently. 
The Afghan is garter stitch on 6.5 mm needles.  I cast on 230 stitches and I'm changing yarns every five rows at the moment.  I started out changing yarn every three rows and I'll probably end the piece with another section of three-row changes.  The stitch count was arbitrary after measuring how long I want the thing to be.   As I look in the yarn basket, I'm a bit over half way.   I want to leave enough yarn in the basket to make 6 inch fringe on both ends.  The goal is to get finished before the snow flies.   I kind of fell to pieces in August when it was so hot.  I couldn't stand the thought of the big heavy thing on my lap while I worked on it.  That's when I turned to knitting socks - small needles, thin yarn, no pressure.
I love knitting socks! I'm  half way through this second sock, using DGB Confetti superwash which is a mix of 75% wool and 25% nylon in  very consistent green, grey and white fairisle stripes. 
 I mostly use the same plain pattern for my socks, especially if I'm using computer dyed yarn like the Confetti..  I work on five short double pointed needles .  This way the same number of stitches are on each needle around.  I'm a tight knitter so I like 2.5 mm needles  And...if I'm making socks for me, I cast on 56 stitches, dividing them equally onto four needles for 14 stitches per needle, knit and purl 2-1/2 inches of rib and then knit around down to the heel.  I did all that on the first sock, and, well, , and I can only blame this on the summer hot spell, I cast on 64 stitches for the second sock.  Fortunately I'm keeping these socks for myself to wear this winter.   My feet will be happy.  They won't notice the difference. 

A Celebration of Autumn

The equinox has arrived and with it the colours and smells of autumn.  My tomatoes are finally ripening under their plastic canopy and I can't believe how juicy and delicious they are.
 I must have planted a couple of ever-bearing raspberries in the spring when I was putting in the raspberry patch because here they are, steadily giving up one or two or 5 ripe raspberries long after the season has ended and their leaves are turning. There are just enough for cereal toppings.  I have high hopes for next year's crop.
When Libby and I were out walking this morning through the park we came upon a big pile of leaves raked up and just waiting for someone to jump in it, and crunch through it.  That is a wonderful sound,  the crunch of  dried leaves underfoot on an autumn walk while yellow and orange leaves drift down from the tree branches in the breeze.  The colours of autumn in Alberta are gentle, soft, golden mostly with the backdrop of the evergreens for contrast.  And there is a crispness in the air that is energizing.
Growing up in my little town we had a wonderful time making big piles of the cottonwood leaves for jumping in.  We also raked the leaves into imaginary rooms. We built kitchens, livingrooms and bedrooms complete with imaginary doors and windows.  The bedroom had piled up beds of leaves.  The livingroom had a sculpted leaf chesterfield.  Then, when all the fun was over and my dad had had enough, the mounds of leaves were raked to the side of the road where he set fire to them. The scent of burning leaves carefully tended, with the garden hose not far away to douse the fire when it had burned down to ashes, is a lovely autumn memory for me.
I'm quite impressed with the gourds growing out of one lone plant in the raised garden.  There might even be some to decorate the Thanksgiving table with.  I have no idea why else I thought I needed to grow them but they have given me no end of amusement watching the vines snake all over the garden.  Cheeky plant.

Ruminations about books

One of my first jobs was working in my local small town library.  The library itself wasn't big.  It was a couple of smallish rooms in the IOOF Hall and could only be got too by walking down the side of the building and up three wooden stairs but my, it was wonderful.  My library card was one of my most prized possessions.  I loved the smell of the books and the quiet that seems to infuse libraries everywhere.   I loved sitting behind the librarian's desk and stamping books for readers to take away. I loved walking in the stacks and putting returned books back in their proper spots.  Most of all I loved choosing a book to read from what to me was an amazing selection.    I was enthralled with Anne Frank's diary, and Pearl S Buck.  Such a romantic child I was!

These days I own books, books I treasure that I have packed up and carted through move after move, books that range from myths and legends, to needlework, knitting, crochet and photography.   Some are well thumbed and some have yellow sticky notes marking pages for reference.  Right now I am looking at Rose Hughes "Dream Landscapes - Artful Quilts with Fast-Piece Applique",   Jeannine Stein's book "Adventures in Bookbinding - Hand Crafting Mixed-Media Books, and my ever present Adobe Photoshop Lightrooms3 book for Digital Photographers - that's the one festooned with yellow sticky notes.   And for light reading I'm going into my own stacks and re-reading Diana Gabaldon's "Outlander", the first book in her amazing series following the adventures of Claire Randall, who slips through the stones and finds herself in 18th Century Scotland.   There are seven books in Gabaldon's series and those of us who are hooked are breathlessly waiting for the 8th to show up. 
I hope real paper books never get lost in the shuffle as we scramble for the next electronic convenience.  There is something quite wonderful about holding a paper book in your hand and turning the pages. 

A ride in the country

It's harvest time in Southern Alberta. It's September.

   I love September.  The air has a crispness to it.  The extreme heat of August is a memory.  September brings warm days but cool nights which my garden loves .My tomatoes are finally ripening.  It's a mystery though whether they will make it in time to beat the first frost.  If they do, I'll make a big batch of tomato sauce to freeze for winter spagetti.

Yesterday, Libby the Border Collie and I decided to take a drive in the country.  We  headed east, aiming for Rosebud, Alberta - the little town I have been hearing so much about in the arts magazines.  Here is the link. 
 Rosebud is tucked away at the western edge of the Alberta Badlands. It's a pretty little town, an artist and theatre destination.  But, alas, not on Sundays.   There was a reward of homemade blueberry pie and hot coffee and conversation though, when we stopped at the Rosebud Inn.  The pie alone was worth the trip.  Libby made do with dog bisquits and cold water.
  
 We stuck to the back roads on the way east, relying on my trusty GPS and road map to keep us more or less headed in the right direction until we hit Highway #9.  The fields under blue skys and fluffy white clouds were bustling with gigantic green machines, big trucks and dust.   It was a day to be out.

Walking down memory lane

This past August (I can say that now because we have turned over into September)  I was invited to my High School Grad class reunion.  August has been indeed a month of renewing friendships, catching up with family and much visiting.  The class reunion was amazing.  Many thanks go to Karen and Leona for tracking us down, inviting all of us and organizing a lovely dinner celebration all coinciding with Fair Days in my little home town.  I grew up in the small southern Alberta town of Claresholm and for me, this coming together was the first time back to my little town in many, many years.  So I spent time driving and walking on streets which used to be so familiar, and now look so different.  I drove by the house I grew up in and could hardly recognize it.  I walked around the main street  looking for landmarks and not finding very many.  I guess it is true that you can't go back, you must go forward.   But you can remember and that is good.

 So,  this going back was fun, and full of stories from old school pals.  This going back was about people, not things.  This going back was getting re-aquainted, catching up and promising to stay in touch. 
The photos are courtesy of Curtis Funk, who took them with his I-pad.  From top to bottom, Anola and Valerie at the Museum, Me with Harold Seymour who just gave me a Claresholm pin (I'll treasure that), Karen and Marilyn chatting during cocktail hour, Len and karen, and Curtis and Len.  It was all wonderful and a memory I'll treasure.

By the way the Claresholm Museum is a gem, and well worth a day trip.  It is housed in the former railway station.

A death in the family

Bonnie, our darling giant french lop passed away last night.  Our house is sad and silent today. 

She was a wonderful, funny, mischieveous girl, full of life,who loved oatmeal cookies.  She thought nothing of stealing her mate's cookies right from under his nose  She outweighed Bella by about 10 old fashioned pounds but he adored her enough to give up his bit of cookie for her every time. 

We all miss her terribly.