End of a Blog

I don't want to stop blogging, but I fear the knitting blog has run it's course. As my mother said to me yesterday, I have a very strong way of expressing my convictions. For some reason this doesn't seem to translate well to a knitting blog.

I started blogging only because I wanted to join a group that required a blog – of course it was a knitting group. I never imagined how much I would enjoy it. Well, and also how annoying it would be.

I have talked to a few people about the latest blog issue I've been having, and even after listening very carefully I still do not understand why otherwise sane people would get so incredibly angry with me. About a book for children no less.

So I'm moving my blog. I'm not stopping, I'm not cutting people off, but I am moving. Mainly because I think "Phoenix Knitter" is a limiting title. You are all welcome to follow me over there as long as you are an adult (sorry Mary) and don't mind reading strong opinions that you may possibly disagree with every now and again. If you are easily offended or you just don't want to know what I really think, perhaps it's not the place for you.


So my new blog is going to be all about living in Phoenix. I am native Arizonan and have lived in New York and Northern California. Now I'm back and my little city-that-could is actually trying to become something, hopefully something great. Since I am never allowed to leave again (I think Jack's grandmothers would set up road blocks if we tried to move him out of the state), I am going to provide commentary on the changes impacting my permanent residence.

So thank you all for visiting Phoenix Knitter. I hope to see you at Phoenista sometime soon.

NAW is back!

Not to detract from all the fun we're having beating to death the relative merit of a children's story, but news is news. Mr. Now A Warning is back, maybe only temporarily, but at least he's posted so you can all know he's alive and stop asking me.

I've decided I need to find a job where I can get paid to make people angry, hurt and upset all the time since I do it so well here. Maybe I should go to law school.

Jeez Louize

Kim called me today to fill me in on why everyone is so wildly angry about my Harry Potter post. She says people are reading into it that I'm saying "If you like Harry Potter you are stupid." I am NOT saying that at all. I watch reality TV and read Stephen King – I don't think people are dumb for liking bad stuff.

When it comes to Harry Potter, I feel the reading public treats these books like something wonderful and great instead of what they are - plot-driven children’s books. It just makes me sad that caring about good writing makes me a snob. (or an elitist, depending upon which comment you agree with more.) I care that published authors and their editors don’t take the time to improve upon the writing at least enough so you don't cringe as you're reading. But the truth is they don't have to - the books will sell even if the writing is mediocre, even if there are glaring errors in syntax, even if the sentences don’t exactly flow.

Yes I am glad children are reading. But what are they going to read in between these extravaganzas put on by the publisher to sell more books? Perhaps some Sweet Valley High?

I don't have a lot of favorites when it comes to Children's Literature, but since Mrs. R asked I would highly recommend CS Lewis and Madeleine L'Engle. And I don't know if it's still the case, but I remember the Newberry Medal at least would single out one book a year that was usually good. Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson and Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D. Taylor are two that stood out for me as a child. Oh, and of course Stuart Little, Charlotte's Web, and The Trumpet of the Swan – all by EB White.

Paula had a good point about writers being too in love with their prose to get to the story. This is often a problem in serious contemporary "literature" these days (I blame over-workshopping in the MFA programs that have appeared at practically every university in the country). It's all about balance, and I think Rowling misses the balance by a long shot, albeit on the other end of the spectrum.

Like any art, writing is up for interpretation. If I wrote here "I think the Mona Lisa is rubbish, it doesn't deserve the wall space" would you all still freak out on me? I don't think so. So everyone simmer back down and stop being so angry. I still hate the books and probably won't read them until I have to read them to Jack. Then we'll see if I change my tune.

(And Jen, I was actually shocked at the response I got to this. I did expect some controversy regarding my divorce with kids post considering the divorce rate in our country and I was looking forward to hearing different perspectives. Oh well, I guess I didn't quite understand the Harry Potter zeal had reached such a fevered pitch.)

Potter Schmotter

I am proud to say I have never read a Harry Potter book or seen a Harry Potter movie. Why am I proud? Because I think the writing is rubbish. I don't think Rowling cares about word selection or sentence structure one iota, and I can't bear a writer who takes her craft so lightly. (My mom had the first book, I read the first chapter, that is the extent of my knowledge of the topic.) Yes, it is supposed to be for children, and yes, everyone in America loves it so it must be good. I am just disappointed that people have such low thresholds for literature these days. It's all about the plot – nothing else matters as long as you can keep people on the edge of their seats, right? Plot plot plot. And will it make a good movie? Can I sell the screenplay? Will Americans salivate and line up to buy the sequel?

I feel the same way about the book "Wicked". When did we become so lackadaisical about books? We just devour all the junk in the world without a care. I hate to sound like a snob, but I just wish that people would take a step back and think while they are reading.

On the knitting front, I have to rip out my second blue sock. For some reason I have a disease that makes me forget what type of cast-on method I used for the first sock and apply it to the second. So I will be ripping out and restarting. But for now I'm doing a little more work on Ribby Shell. The pattern measurements seem a little long – for the size I'm knitting you are supposed to knit 14 inches from the cast-on edge. I don't think I want it to be that long so I'm probably one going to knit 12 ½. I know I am short so this might be part of the problem. I even measure some shirts I like to see how long they are from armhole to waist and they all came out at 12 inches.

I don't usually cross post my pictures from my baby blog, but this shot is worth sharing. It is my six year old nephew who lives in Colorado.

another finished sock

I am obsessed with those stupid footie socks. I stayed up past 11 Friday night working on the next one. I think about them when I sleep. I want to knit the world a pair of socks. It’s insane.

I was talking to a friend this week about her relationship. Now, those of you who know me are probably used to hearing me say “Dump him, he’s a loser, he’s not that into you, etc, etc, etc.” However that all changes once a child is born. If you have a child with someone you are bound to them for life. Period. Even if you’re bored or tired or angry. Really in my opinion the only exception is abuse. (Oddly, women who are abused are more likely to stick around and let their kids get beat up on, but that’s another story).

I know marriage is hard, I know it’s not always the sunshine and roses we expected when we walked down the aisle. But what I told my friend and what I tell you all now is this. It isn’t about you. Look in the mirror and say it with me. “It’s not about me.” The only thing that matters is the health and happiness of your child.

But I never let people off easily (including myself if it makes any difference.) You can’t just “stay together for the children” either. You have to work. You have to look across the kitchen table and find something you love about that man every single day of your life. You obviously loved him at some point or the child would not be around, right?

He’s a loser? Whip him into shape. He’s not interesting? Maybe you’re the one who’s not really interesting. He’s not the man you married? Honey, let me tell you, you’re nowhere near the woman he married.

Children are better off with happy parents in a strong and healthy relationship. You decide to have that strong and healthy relationship, no one else can decide it for you. But please, for the love of all that is good in this world, take a step back out of your selfishness and try to make things work.

Lecture is officially over.

Now on to the discussion of the weather. You know how all of you in Canada were complaining a few months back about snow and ice and storms and misery? We were laughing at you, basking in our sunshiney winter, growing vegetables and lying by the pool. We are paying dearly for it now.

Phoenix has odd weather, really. It’s not too bad until right before the monsoon, and then it’s as if Mother Nature has decided she doesn’t like cookie dough ice cream anymore, she likes burnt cookies and she likes them all day long. (we, the residents of Phoenix, are the blobs of cookie dough in this scenario, in case that wasn’t clear.)

After a few days of temperatures above 110, we are all miserable, cranky and mad about the weather. We don’t want to leave the house. It’s even too hot to go swimming. And then the storms start.

Of course they don’t start with rain – that would be too nice a break. They start with wind that seems as if a giant hairdryer was pointed on your house at high speed. This is what happened in our yard, shortly before the electricity went out:





Yes, that is our tree. Broken. But still no rain, nothing to cool off this miserable city.

Luckily Jeff came to dinner tonight. We had to eat in the living room because the dining room is about 20 degrees warmer. I set up a card table with all the cute stuff we bought from his garage sale and Joe made baked ziti. Except the power went out, so we ordered pizza. Then the power came back on so we had both! Here we all are, enjoying Arizona as much as we possibly can:



Jeff remarked as he was leaving that this was the first time he hung out with me without the baby. (Don’t worry, the baby was here, he was just asleep.) I do exist outside of that kid, I swear it. It’s nice to have a friend who doesn’t have kids so we can discuss various topics that don’t revolve around diapers and breastfeeding. I mean, it’s nice to have friends with kids as well, because they are invaluable when strange things happen and you need a shoulder to cry on. But a little bit of balance is slowly returning to my world and I am happy about that.

I’m tired now, I may not even knit tonight (!).

Yarn Day!

I was emailing with Jeff last night and asked if he wanted to come hang out with us today. To my great surprise he agreed. On the agenda? Nursing home, yarn shop, and lunch with Julie and Mac. Hardly the type of day I would expect him to enjoy – but we all had a great time.

Fiber Factory is empty this time of year – it was wonderful. The staff was not nearly as harassed as they are during the winter. It was quiet and enjoyable. And I bought some yarn. I am obsessed with these footie socks. I had to make myself a pair. As you can see, I’ve already started them:



Yes, that is Baby Cashmerino. I am hoping that by bringing it in the house it will release the curse on the Cashmerino Chunky that just can’t seem to make itself into a sweater. Since my house is now 75 degrees thanks to the kind men at Chas Roberts Air Conditioning, I thought I might need a pair of cashmere socks to keep my tootsies warm. This yarn is so soft it will make you cry. I will update my progress so you can all drool.

Never fear, my sweet mother. I finished your socks this afternoon:



Super cute. Perfect. I couldn’t be happier. I will never get enough of this pattern.

I can now see why people get stuck on only making socks. Especially these socks. So quick. So refreshing. So Summery. I am one happy knitter. I hope everyone wants footie socks for Christmas this year.

Finished Socks?

I finished the socks last night and, well, see for yourself.


















They don’t match at all. Now, I did use a different cast on method for the second sock. This was inadvertent – when I made the first sock I forgot my crochet hook in the car, so I had to use a normal cable cast on. With the second sock I used the crocheted cast on where you use the hook to make loops on the needle. I thought they were similar but apparently not. The second sock (the one on top) has a lacy/frilly edge. The other problem is the striping is off and the top sock looks way more red than the bottom sock.

So, I am going to cast on and knit another sock. I want them to resemble one another more closely, and if I start the yarn in the big red stripe I think it will help. The yarn is called Clown by Marks and Kattens. It’s 45% cotton, 40% superwash wool and 15% nylon. Oh, and it is not colorfast. So mom, don’t get your feet wet or they will turn pink.

If you need a good reference for the kitchner stitch, go here. It has great explanations and pictures.

I will be at Fiber Factory on Thursday at 10 a.m. if anyone wants to come knit with me. My student Judy will be there as well. I may try to find some yarn for myself for these socks. I also just read a pattern in Interweave Knits where you double the yarn on the foot so there is extra padding. Considering how often I run around with only my socks on this sounds like a good idea.