Monday, October 29, 2007

Something wicked my way comes???

Yep, the end may be nigh. My latest SockWars assassin informs me of that fact...but is she bluffing? We shall see.

To Kathy in SB I say:

By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
Open, locks,
Whomever knocks!

(my favorite lines by the 3 witches in Macbeth by Mr. William Shakespeare)

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Covering some not so pleasant territory.

This isn't going to be the usual light-hearted post. I ask that you stick with me. Wade through this and see where it lands you.

1) Do you know Jacob Wetterling?

If you're not from Minnesota you very well may not. Neither do I, but it seems as if I have known of him for my entire life...and I left the porch light on for him last night. I meant to post about this yesterday so you could too, but it's never too late, right?

This is Jacob, or at least the Jacob I have known for the last 18 years:

You see, 11 year old Jacob was abducted 18 years ago from a rural road in Saint Joseph Minnesota.

"On the evening of October 22, 1989, Jacob, his brother Trevor, and friend Aaron rode their bikes to a local convenience store to pick up a movie and snack. On the way back home, a man wearing a mask and carrying a gun stopped the boys. The gunman told the boys to throw their bikes into a nearby ditch and lay face down on the ground. He then asked each of the boys their age. After the boys responded, he instructed Trevor to run into the woods and told him not to look back or he would shoot him. Next, the gunman turned Aaron over, looked into his face, and told him to run into woods without looking back or he would shoot him. As Trevor and Aaron were running away, they glanced back to see the gunman grab Jacob's arm. When Aaron and Trevor reached the wooded area they turned around again and the gunman and Jacob were gone."
(The italicized passage comes from The Jacob Wetterling Story on the JWF website)

He has never been found. Neither has his abductor.

His mother never gives up hope of either. She has become a tireless advocate. A quiet yet persistent voice for children and families that cannot speak for themselves. Through founding the Jacob Wetterling Foundation she has created a vehicle of support and endless resource so that families may never find themselves without an advocate in their time of ultimate crisis.

"It is the belief of the Jacob Wetterling Foundation that with every missing child case, someone out there knows something. We also believe that when our communities stand together on behalf of children, we give courage to those individuals to step forward and do the right thing and tell someone. It is our hope that as families have had to step forward because of these horrible crimes, the individuals who know something will step forward out of their own darkness and share their information with law enforcement to bring our children home." (again, from the JWF website)

Stories of this nature should give us all nightmares. None of us should be able to rest while horrors such as this happen. We should all be working tirelessly to find these children and their tormentors.

It's not in your face every day, so it's so easy to forget.

It hasn't happened to you, or your neighbor or your family so it's easy to not dwell on it. It's easy to think "oh, that poor family", have a moment of heartache and get on with things.

But what if it wasn't? What if was in your face? What if there was a picture of a missing child in the corner of every crime show on TV? What if every newscast started with the story of a missing child? What if every magazine and newspaper gave one ad space over to publicizing details of these stories? What if more of the media did what Oprah Winfrey did last year and spent a fraction of their air time targeting child predators?

Would we find more of them? I would hope we would.

Would we press our politicians into more proactive legislation to protect our children? I would hope we would.

Feel it now? Wondering what you can do?

Visit The Jacob Wetterling Foundation. Read up on their efforts. READ THE SAFETY TIPS. Visit their Resources page and go find out about missing children in your area. Put them on your blog. Put them on your car. Put their case anywhere someone might chance across it and have that one flash moment of insight that can bring them home or bring them justice.

We're not helpless. We can help. But we have to act.

OK. That's on the homefront. Venturing much further afield...

2) Darfur. Brian Steidle. The Devil Came on Horseback.

Listening to MPR on the way home from errands today I chanced into an interview with Brian Steidle. I literally sat in my car, in the garage, passing fish crackers to the toddler, riveted by his words.

How did I not know about this man? I know I must have seen his pictures. We've all seen the pictures. I have a feeling I'm not the only one that really wishes they could make the pictures go away. They are so hard to face.

Brian Steidle is
a former Marine infantry officer who served after his retirement as an unarmed observer in Darfur in 2004. His photographs and experience in Darfur were revealed in a series of op-eds by Nicholas Kristof of the New York Times.

But hearing Brian's story from his own lips this morning, (and you can too, through the link here) I simply can't be quiet.

We all know it's happening. There is genocide going on in Sudan. It's irrefutable. Why aren't we yelling?

Well, now I am.

Buy Brian's book, The Devil Came on Horseback. Buy several. Read it. Pass it on.

See the movie. If you're in the Twin Cities, The Human Rights Center is sponsoring a free screening TOMORROW, October 24 at 7 pm at the U of MN law School. Find info here. Brian Steidle will be there. He's in town as the Keynote Speaker for the UN Rally on Darfur at the Minneapolis Convention Center. Details on that also available in the previous link.

Follow this link and read Nicholas Kristof's Secret Genocide Archive.

Look at the pictures. It's the least you can do to honor them, these people so far away in so many ways, but oh my gosh they are us. That baby with the bullet hole in her back, she's just like mine, like yours, like the baby down the street, in the supermarket, out playing in the leaves. And she has a bullet hole in her back.

Do it.

I know you don't want to. I don't want to. It's unpleasant and horrifying and everything that's beyond horrifying. And we're letting it happen.

We need to start yelling and keep it up until someone listens.

Monday, October 22, 2007

The Knitting Cook rides again!

She's back, she's back! After a much deserved 6 month maternity leave, Faith is back in the pod-osphere! Yarn, recipes, projects, books reviews...

Go,, download!

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

8 veeeeeery random things

Drat! Tagged by Karla (aka Crocheting Chemist) at the worst possible time, no time, so here are 8 extremely random things. Enjoy.

The Rules:Once tagged, you must link to the person who tagged you. Then post the rules before your list, and list 8 random things about yourself. At the end of the post, you must tag and link to 8 other people, visit their sites, and leave a comment letting them know they’ve been tagged.

1) I'll be staying here tomorrow night...ALL ALONE. (or if I'm lucky, with the boy, but that's not looking likely as #3 is still not sleeping and he has guilt about dropping that on his parents.)

2) One of my great-grandfathers was a bootlegger during prohibition...and at some point lost a hand in a "hunting accident". Uh huh, sure he did. Can you say mafia?

3) My favorite ice cream is the Salted Caramel from Izzy's. Mexican Chocolate is a close second. If Single waffle cone of the caramel with the chocolate izzy scoop = heaven.

4) I have cat stalkers. Cats = evil carriers of allergens that are strangely attracted to me despite my best efforts to give off strong anti-cat energy waves. Seriously, the neighbor's cats sit outside the window and stare at me with their laser beam cat eyes even. I get hives just looking at them. *shudder*

5) My grandmother's beef soup is THE BEST...and I can make it perfecto.

6) I usually don't wear socks yet am now knitting them compulsively...for myself.

7) I love Sci Fi.

8) I have a strange love of Little Debbie Oatmeal Cream Pies. They are nothing but chemicals with more chemicals, yet I love them.

There. Now run off and play Bubbo, Spinnerin, Nuttnbunny, Robin, Mama O, NotScarlett, Red Sea School Mistress, and Belle.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Snotty baby of doooooooooom

Lookie, lookie, all kitchnered and ready to roll...

Send your condolences to dear Darcy/Aeauna won't you? Her sockish death is imminent.

que up Darth Vader's theme music if you please...

To the question...shall I finish today, or be finished myself?

My assassin hasn't revealed themselves as yet, so we'll see. Here's where I'm starting this morning:

Saturday, October 13, 2007

....I've been flanked.

It has begun.

I am not at all as in love with the yarn in pattern, but I have to say it does have a rather cammo-militia feel to it. No longer happy-joy-joy walk through fall in the upper midwest.

Oh yeah, and apparently my target hates brown.

Just perfect.

And I'm knitting my hands off, yet the baby's still sick (the diversionary attack to my very exposed mama flank), we're all going on minimal sleep and not only have some participants thrown the pattern to the wind and done the foot in STOCKINETTE, some people have their socks done already. Seriously.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Awash in goo...

It's official, cold and flu season has hit.

Yep, the baby has turned into one huge goo factory and is generously spreading the my hair, my shirt, my glasses, every relatively stationary surface in the house...OK, and the dogs too. They're not so stationary...or then again, at 10 and 11 maybe they are. Poor patient pups, they'll endure anything for a pat.

Send the disinfectant. Roll out the emergen-C. It's going to be a loooooooong winter.

Mammogram, schmammogram...

OK, went for my first annual last night...prepared to wince appropriately.

He-llo. Big relief.

After breast-feeding 3 kiddos, that was NOTHING.

Let-down for the first few weeks...PAIN. (for me at and furious and curl my toes OUCHIE)

Nursing through a plugged duct...PAIN.

Flesh-rending baby bite...PAIN.

Mammogram...not so much. My favorite thing ever, nope. But I'll take that over a pelvic any day.

Monday, October 08, 2007

Locked and Loaded.


It's only days away now. Artillery specs were posted last week. The rest should all e-arrive on Saturday.

I've spent a goodly portion of this past week swatching and re-swatching my stash yarns to see if any would work. Alas, no. While I have some DK weight sock yarns, none gave me the requisite 25 st/in in anything resembling a nice, cohesive fabric. All were loosey-goosey and not at all war-worthy. The organizer used Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino...but ugh, just not me. BORING.

So, off to the LYS today, where loverly, purple hair bearing Abbey shook her head over the too loose swatches and immediately pointed me to the answer. Lana Grossa Cool Wool 2000. 100 % non-felting buttery the most fabulous fall colorway ever:

Swatched up perfecto too. Bang on stitch and row gauge. Fabulously sproingy. Lovin' it. And then I looked up and out the window:

...and all the colors in the yarn were there, right there. I almost fell over. Sometimes things just click.

deep thoughts

OK, I usually don't delve this deeply here, but my brain's been whirling since I threw the feminism thing out the other day, which became hurricane force winds after reading all of the very thought provoking comments.

I have to say, my definition of feminism is constantly evolving.

I think, if asked to express it, before I had children I would have given a pretty pat answer. Equality with men. Equal opportunity. Equal pay. The power driven point of view.

Since I've had kids and made the decision to stay home with them, at least for a bit, those views have definitely been altered. I've run smack into the mommy wars and was shocked to find myself under fire. I'm constantly wondering why women, instead of finding ways to support each other in their choices, constantly find ways to undercut and undermine. So much judgment flying around on so very many topics. I have to say, being told over and over again that I am not only letting down previous generations of women, my daughter and myself by staying home has been the most alienating of all. If being a card-carrying feminist means I have to be in the boardroom seeing my kids an hour a day, hiring out the care of hearth and home...not interested. You might be, and good for you. That model works for some. It doesn't for me.

However, I don't see things in such monochromatic strokes.

Shouldn't the heart of feminism rather be finding power and worth in whatever roles women choose to hold?

Is it really all about taking over "the old boy's club"? Isn't part of the equation also bringing worth to nurturing?

Should every woman have to strive to be a CEO, shatter the glass ceiling to prove herself worthy? Shouldn't we rather be bringing attention to the value and power women carry within themselves in any role, be it news anchor or gardener or mother?

It's a complex issue, and I don't pretend to have the answers...I'd just like to expand the list of questions.

Friday, October 05, 2007

This, that and the other...

So, it's raining. Again.

Meaning no power walk. Drat.

So, instead, it's bread day.

Oat Bran Bread out of Brother Juniper's Bread Book. Slow rise all the way baby. Mmmmmmmmmmm. I just love bread. Hence the need for the power walking.

Double drat rain.

Let's catch up on some projects shall we?

These are my sock club socks from September. Get to go show them off tomorrow morning. Wish the camera wasn't in full meltdown, the detail is so nice. Knit up in Cherry Tree Hill, very nice, enjoyed working with it. This is the first time I've actually completed a pair in the month they were meant to be...quite the feat given the month we've had and I've been like the proverbial headless chicken with a 30 pound toddler hanging off my left arm.

And a bit of gratuitous cuteness:
#3, the afore-mentioned 30 lb monkey, modeling one of the Strut hats I've made for a silent auction. Warning, SWS felts like a begeezus. This is the adult size after only part of one cycle. #3 is 20 months old. Must be the circles, or the clusters, cause it shrank much, much, much more than the bag did. Cute though.

Back to the oven. Oh how stereotypical can I get today? HA! I do have a few new cookbooks to tell you about too.

Gloria Steinem I am most certainly not.

(and now there's an elephant for there feminism in choosing a more traditional path, even if just for awhile. are we really a let-down to society? to our daughters? to our sons? or is there room for us too in the ever evolving image of what a strong, vocal, intelligent woman really is? there you go. discuss.)

Wednesday, October 03, 2007



It was getting dicey there for awhile. I was verging on hysterical and muttering some not so nice things under my breath about over-inquisitive toddlers.

But, having ascertained previously mentioned missing iPod was not in the usual places, and even the not so usual, but still not totally disgusting to check out ones, I steeled myself for battle. With the emotional support of a Blue Moon Harvest Ale and a bag of peanut butter M&Ms I went places I had hoped to never have to sink my hands.

Yep, I went dumpster-diving.

OK, we really don't keep a dumpster in the house, but I did rummage through the kitchen garbage. And when the bathroom can rattled solidly when shaken, I went there too. At which point I was facing down the horrible, so I rechecked all the usual and not so horrible places, this time with my fingers crossed.

Nope. Just not there.

Realizing I had to do it, because if I didn't that would so be where it was and I would never seen my poor lonely pod again, I did it. I went through the diaper pail.

Yes, it was really that bad. There was gagging.

And while a cell phone, several packets of vitamins, various plastic "guys" and several dollars in change were there amidst the fermenting poo packets, no iPod ran into my waiting arms.

At which point I threw a mini fit and paced about my room hurling invectives hither and yon, coupled with all the appropriate arm gestures.

And I tripped over one of the dog beds.

And there it was, hiding out under the big ball of fluff.

And once again all was right with the world...after a thorough decontamination that is.

Monday, October 01, 2007

The baby stole me iPod

I think it's retribution for forcibly repossessing the teeny tiny Playmobil football he's fallen in love with.

But really, I can not find it.


I'm about to delve into the garbage.

Dear Apple, please, oh please invent the iPod clapper and retrofit mine so I can find it.