Today was a day off work. I'd cleverly double-booked on medical appointments, a visit to Griffin Hospital in Derby for the study I'm in and a routine visit to my rheumatologist. By the time I'd moved the latter appointment to the afternoon, it didn't make sense to go to work, so I didn't. At 8:45 AM, I grabbed my knitting and headed for Derby. Waiting in doctors' offices is so much less stressful when you have something to do. And I take perverse pleasure in finishing my row when I'm finally called in.

When I got to the lab at the hospital, on my way out the door, there was one person ahead of me. So I settled down with my sock-in-progress, the mate to this one:



The sock itself is as plain as plain can be. There are no fancy stitches at all. The entire beauty of the sock is the marled yarn. Like most sock yarns, it's 4 ply. Each ply of this one is a different reddish color: there is orange, magenta, crimson, and burgundy. The yarn in the skein looks like a ruddy barber pole. But, when knit, it produces a lovely marled fabric. So, yes, the sock looks awfully nice.But, honestly, the yarn does all the work.

After I'd been knitting a few minutes, one of the technicians called me into the lab. As I finished my row and stuffed the knitting into my bag, she asked what I was knitting. "A sock", I replied, girding myself for the inevitable "you can buy those at Walmart, you know". However, she asked whether it was a full sock, or just a bootie. I assured her that it was a sock, for me, and pulled the finished mate from the bag. She asked if she could look at it, so I handed it to her and she gushed. There's no other word for it, friends. She gushed. She brought it over to the desk clerk for her to admire as well. Then she asked if she could bring it to show her supervisor. And I could hear more gushing from the other room.

When she returned the sock and we went into the room where she was going to draw my blood, she commented on how patient I must be. I quickly set her straight. I knit because I'm impatient. Only the knitting lets me survive impatiently waiting for an appointment that I was on time for to finally get started. And, because I had two sets of appointments today, I'm almost done with this pair of socks. I'll finish during the hockey game tonight (after I eat dinner and fold some laundry; well maybe I'll skip the laundry).

I'm planning some small home remodeling projects, so yesterday I took a day off work to make the rounds with my contractor selecting stuff (bathroom fixtures, tile, an air conditioner, a patio door). Since I anticipated a certain amount of waiting around, I spent a little time Tuesday night starting yet another sock. I'm still working on making Cat Bordhi's master numbers (from New Pathways for Sock Knitters) work for me. Since previous pairs of socks made from her templates had been a little loose in the heel, I decided that the principled thing to do was simply to incorporate negative length-wise ease; in other words, while my foot is 9.75" long, my calculations were based on a foot length of 9.25". (Previous socks using a target length of 9.5" were a little loose.)

Between waiting around for the contractor, waiting for lunch (at a highly-reviewed new restaurant near the Sound in West Haven, the Savin Rock Roasting Company; the roast beef is, indeed, to die for), and some quality television time, I got a fair amount of knitting done yesterday. Today during the hockey game, I finished the heel and was finally able to try on the sock-in-progress:

( Click for pictures )

I do believe I've got it. The fit is exactly the way I like it.

Here were the second round playoff predictions:

East:
Rangers-Pens
Flyers-Habs

West:
Wings-Avs
Sharks-Stars

Yep...That's a big 0 for 4. I was wrong about all four series.

And now the more general predictions:

As for the more general predictions:
(1) an epic overtime game ended after midnight: well, the only multi OT game (game 4 of Flyers-Caps) ended in the second overtime, and Knuble's winner wasn't particularly fluky. But there are three rounds to go.

Well we got the epic OT game. But Morrow's goal halfway through the 4th OT wasn't particularly fluky.

(2) an Avs-Red Wings hate-filled series: we'll have the series but the jury's still out on the hate

What hate? That series was a total snoozer.

(3) a young player not named Crosby or Ovechkin developing a reputation: Daniel Brière, I'm looking at you, and at you, Brandon Dubinsky

Daniel Who? I got your R. J. Umberger here. Not to mention Johan Franzen and Brenden Morrow.

Marion Hossa already had the reputation…of coming up small in the playoffs. No more. He did OK.

(4) an older player rediscovering his youth and carrying his team: Kovalev? Jagr? JR, if he can keep it up.

Well, Kovalev and Jagr couldn't carry their teams, and JR couldn't keep it up. Is Marty Turco old enough to be an "older player rediscovering his youth and carrying his team"? How about Chris Osgood.

(5) Mike Milbury trashing Jagr: With both Boston and NY telecasts available, I managed to avoid most opportunities for Milbury mishegoss.

Milbury. Blech. Enough said.

And maybe this round we'll get the epic OT game.

I left this in because, boy, howdy, did we ever. I was a wreck at work today, but it was so worth it to stay up until 2:30 AM to see the end of this game. There is nothing, I mean nothing in the world of sports like sudden-death playoff hockey. The two teams played 7 1/2 periods of hockey last night. That's 2 1/2 games.

And now for the conference finals:
East:
Pens–Flyers

West:
Stars–Wings

Part of my birthday present to myself was to go hear The Yarn Harlot read from her new book in Northhampton last Sunday. Well, that and I had been good about buying yarn all year. Last weekend was a yarn diet moratorium.

Part of what happens when you get somewhere over 500 knitters in the same room for a lecture is that you get somewhere over 500 knitters knitting. I'm currently working on a rather fancy sock that I designed for a sock-pattern contest. But that's rather fiddly knitting. So I did a bit of stash-diving to grab some yarn I could knit a rather vanilla sock from. I ended up with a skein of Mega Boots Stretch which, it turns out, seems to have been discontinued. A few days before the lecture, I cast on.

Once I finally got the cast on worked out, it was smooth sailing. Until I got to Northhampton. The lecture took place in a theater, and, even with the house lights on their brightest, it was rather difficult to see. The dominant color of the yarn is dark green. In the low light in the theater, the yarn might just as well have been black. So, I was continuing in my k3p1 ribbing, by feel. Knit stitches and purl stitches feel different, and I really did have to rely on that different feel.

My intention had been to do a totally conventional heel, since that's something I can do, well, not in my sleep, but certainly without consulting a written pattern. But something about being in lecture hall with over 500 other knitters…well, let's call it a contact high. I started thinking about heels.
( And here's what happens when I think too much )

So, I'm knitting and watching Stanley Cup playoff games. I've finished one pair of socks, the Becoming Socks, and started another that I'm thinking of entering in the Lorna's Laces sock contest. But that one is fairly fiddly, and I'm going to need some more mindless knitting for the Yarn Harlot event on Sunday. So I grabbed a ball of Mega Boots Stretch from the stash and started knitting Wednesday night.



Well, actually, I tried to start knitting Wednesday night, but I kept messing up on the tubular caston. Granted, it's a very fiddly caston, but I've done it successfully a number of times. But I suppose that's what I get for starting a project after midnight.

Yesterday evening, I went back at it, during the Detroit-Colorado game, with much greater success. Since I wasn't sure how the yarn would pattern, I decided to stick with a decidedly non-fiddly k3p1 rib for the cuff and instep of the sock:



It's certainly easy enough to do, which will be good when listening to a hysterically funny lecture in the company of many other knitters. But, as I was winding up for the evening, I took a look at the inside of the sock, and realized that I like that much better.



It's visually interesting without distracting from the yarn. So, I'm going to have to do a bit of fancy footwork, so to speak, when I turn the heel, to make sure that I flip the sock and then work the instep in p3k1 rib. It's a fun challenge. So, we shall see how it works out. It's all good.

Found on my friendsfriends page. I'm not sure what it means, but I am sure it doesn't matter!

you are yellowgreen #9ACD32

Your dominant hues are green and yellow. There's no doubt about the fact that you think with your head, but you don't want to be seen as boring and want people to know about your adventurous streak now and again. Your saturation level is higher than average - You know what you want, but sometimes know not to tell everyone. You value accomplishments and know you can get the job done, so don't be afraid to run out and make things happen. Your outlook on life is brighter than most people's. You like the idea of influencing things for the better and find hope in situations where others might give up. You're not exactly a bouncy sunshine but things in your world generally look up.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

Two weeks ago, I posted a series of predictions about the NHL playoffs. Since the first round is over, it's time to revisit those predictions.

First the outcomes (predictions in bold, outcomes underlined):
East:

* Bruins-Canadiens
* Pens-Sens
* Caps-Flyers
* Rangers-Devils

West:

* Wings-Preds
* Ducks-Stars
* Sharks-Flames
* Wild-Avs

Six out of eight ain't bad. However, one of the series I was wrong on eliminates my predicted Cup final; the Sharks may well win, but they won't be beating the Caps, at least not this year.

As for the more general predictions:
(1) an epic overtime game ended after midnight: well, the only multi OT game (game 4 of Flyers-Caps) ended in the second overtime, and Knuble's winner wasn't particularly fluky. But there are three rounds to go.
(2) an Avs-Red Wings hate-filled series: we'll have the series but the jury's still out on the hate
(3) a young player not named Crosby or Ovechkin developing a reputation: Daniel Brière, I'm looking at you, and at you, Brandon Dubinsky
(4) an older player rediscovering his youth and carrying his team: Kovalev? Jagr? JR, if he can keep it up.
(5) Mike Milbury trashing Jagr: With both Boston and NY telecasts available, I managed to avoid most opportunities for Milbury mishegoss.

And now the second round:
East:
Rangers-Pens
Flyers-Habs

West:
Wings-Avs
Sharks-Stars

And maybe this round we'll get the epic OT game.

Game on!

I finally got around to taking a picture of my Becoming Socks, which have, indeed, fully become something wonderful. In the past 10 days, since I wrote about them, I have finished them and am almost finished with the first sock in another pair.

( And here they are: )

I have come to the conclusion that I can't do heavy garden work two days in a row. Oh well. I did some indoor chores yesterday (laundry, vacuuming, starting to pack up the winter clothes so I have room in the dresser for the summer clothes). That left today for the garden.

After lunch, I did the following:

First I finished turning over the veggie garden. Then I got distracted. I needed a rake to deal with the smaller rocks in the veggie patch. On the way to the shed to get a rake, I noticed that my neighbor has planted baby trees on both sides of his driveway. Fortunately, he's placed little reflectors next to each tree, to distract lawn mowers.

At that point, I realized that I hadn't finished raking crud out of the front lawn. So I grabbed the leaf rake and started dragging stuff down hill. There was a surprising amount of crud: dead thatch, acorns, pine needles, blown down branches and not a few leaves. The advantage of raking is that I noticed a bunch of things that I hadn't noticed previously. In particular, there's a lot of ground cover that flourishes in the shade. There's something with speckled leaves. And I see clumps of violets (or, at least, violet leaves). I got about 80% done with the raking when I realized what the prime disadvantage of raking is. Even with the gloves I was wearing, I still have two blisters, one at the base of each thumb.

So I took a feeling sorry for myself break to watch the hockey game. Afterwards, I went back outside. I raked the vegetable garden. Then I spread the compost over the garden and raked again. And then I planted. I planted one row of radishes. The seeds are from 2005 so I may or may not end up with radishes. Interspersed with the radishes is lettuce. (This was based on a suggestion on the radish packet.) I planted a row of scallions as well. And, on the other side of the garden, I planted another row of lettuce and a row of arugula. There is space in the middle for beans, which I will plant in a few weeks.

I then watered briefly, pondering the compost and the arugula. I bought my house in 2001 and started the compost pile in 2002, 6 years ago. For six years I have saved organic garbage for eight months of the year. I supplemented the food garbage with occasional armloads of yard waste and one big bag of shredded paper. I have a compost aerator tool, and I'm not afraid to use it. But this is the first year, I've felt that there was enough actual compost to use. So, on Friday, I opened up the side of the composter and sifted compost. The sifting is necessary, as some things don't compost as quickly as others. I probably spent an hour or two sifting, and returning eggshells and avocado peels to the bin. Today, in 10 minutes or so, the seven gallons of actual compost disappeared into the soil in the veggie plot: 6 years and two hours are now invisible. The upside of this is that the spaces left by the compost that I removed will probably accelerate composting of what remains. And plenty does remain. And I've learned a few things about composting. First, there's the issue of the eggshells and the avocado rinds. Secondly, I really can't cheat. Those little plastic sku labels on fruits and veggies really won't rot. Not at all.

As for the arugula, last year I was blessed that the arugula that I planted didn't die off in the heat of the summer. In part, there were no particularly lengthy heat waves. And, in part, the arugula was shaded by the bush beans. (I've planned this year's garden to allow for the same shading.) But, more than anything, the garden was simply telling me to eat more arugula. Late in August, I realized that my arugula was growing seed pods. I ended up saving a little bowl of seed pods. This bowl sat on my kitchen counter all winter, as I couldn't think of a place to put it. The seed pods dried out, not surprisingly. Yesterday, while I was waiting for the contractor to show up, I cracked the itty, bitty dried pods. And ended up with enough seeds for a row of arugula. It's a grand experiment. And I'm entirely prepared for the possibility that these carefully saved seeds won't germinate. I won't starve if I can't eat arugula from my garden this summer. But I'm not really all that far removed from that level of dependence. I can buy food, and I can buy seeds. More to the point, there is a distribution network so that I have food and seeds to buy. Nonetheless, I have recycled on a grand scale today.

So, yeah, after lunch accomplishments:

Raked some more leaves from the front of the house and dumped them in the woods

Sifted about 6 gallons of compost

Turned over about half of the vegetable plot

Pulled a hose out of the shed and connected it

Fertilized the cherry tree, which has buds, many buds, and drip-watered it

Fertilized the eastern redbud tree, which has no buds and looks deader than a doornail, and drip-watered it (hope springs eternal)

Pulled up some dead fronds from some of the irises

Contemplated raking up a bunch of pine needles from under the forsythia, but realized that there was pretty much bare earth, so pine needles are good

Dumped the vegetable waste into the compost pile

Watered various planters on the deck

The forecast for today was good, and I got my compost sifter, so I decided to take a gardening day off work (well, according to the records, it'll just be a normal vacation day). The plan is to sift compost, turn over the vegetable garden, and, maybe plant some stuff.

Over breakfast, I made two business-hours phone calls that I preferred not to make from work (a question about medical billing and arranging for a contractor to come give me a quote for some work on the house). Then, I went outside to pick up the newspapers. Once outside, I noticed that there were still leaves in one of the front beds. So I grabbed the rake and a bin, and started filling and dumping.

While I was raking, I noticed that there were a lot of wasps flying around. Some seemed to be homing in on the gutter, but there's an actual hive inside the light fixture by the front door. So, back in the house, and down to the basement for some wasp spray. (It's amazing how pacifism and respect for life flies right out the window when there are flying, stinging insects by your front door.)

While I was down in the basement, I remembered that I hadn't turned the outside taps back on. So I pulled out a stool, and turned the two taps back on. (Note to self: must remember to put stool away.)

Back upstairs, I grabbed the gardening gloves conveniently abandoned by the front door, went outside, and started spraying like a maniac. (So much for the idea of cutting some more daffodils for inside the house, at least until it rains.)

I filled another few tubs with leaves from the garden bed, and decided that I really ought to rake some cruft from the side of the lawn that I didn't rake a few weeks ago.

Once I'd done that, I realized that, if I'm going to dig the veggie garden, I would need pitchfork and shovel, stored in the shed down by the woods. So, I grabbed the snow shovel and ice chipper from the end of the driveway, and walked down to the shed. Then I brought the pitchfork and shovel around the house, so they'd be near the garden when I get around to digging. They're leaning up against the house near the back outside tap. It occurred to me that it would be a good idea to check that I'd turned the inside spigot in the right direction. I had.

I walked back around to the front of the house, to pick up the newspapers, so I can read them while I eat lunch. Maybe after lunch I'll actually get to the compost and the veggie patch!

You would think that any day that starts with waiting on line in the post office to mail a tax return (and a honking big check) could only get better. You'd be wrong.

I'm the Matlab administrator for my lab. I just spent half an hour retracing my footsteps from yesterday looking for the thumb drive which has the Matlab installation codes on it. (This after checking that it wasn't still mounted on the laptop I'd been configuring yesterday, thoroughly searching the area around my desktop computer, and even looking in the drawer that the thumb drive lives in when not in use.)

Then I opened the drawer to pull out a new thumb drive. And there it was, the cheeky little bugger that, I could swear, hadn't been there half an hour earlier.

Of course, I still can't find my Tech Tool Pro Protegé firewire thumb drive, but at least I think I know who I lent it to.

So tonight's game is on MSG and on Versus. At first I was thinking of it as a mug's choice—Stan Fischler between periods on MSG or Mike Milbury on Versus. Then I remembered that Milbury had been on NBC for the Sens-Flyers game. Listening to John Forslund call the game is a small price to pay for not having to listen to Stan Fischler.

I'm getting further and further behind in posting final writeups of completed knitting, let alone garden updates and little slice-of-life postings. But the Stanley Cup playoffs have started, which means prime knitting time. And Lolly of Lolly Knitting Around suggested a playoff knitting knitalong. And, since it's no extra effort, I'm knitting.

( Cut for details and pictures )

With apologies to Christmas, now is the best time of the year. The NHL playoffs start tonight, and end sometime in early June, with the presentation of the Stanley Cup.

Things we will see (hopefully) in the next two months:
(1) an epic overtime game, ended after midnight by a fluky goal by Scotty Gomez or a wicked shot from the point by Alex Ovechkin or a shot by Patrice Bergeron that bounces off of Carey Price's back and into the net.
(2) a series in which the Avs and Red Wings rediscover the hate
(3) a young player not named Crosby or Ovechkin cementing his reputation as a player who can carry his team
(4) an older player rediscovering his youth and, yet again, carrying his team
(5) Mike Milbury trashing Jaromir Jagr (if Milbury had any skills at player evaluation, he'd still be picking personnel for the Islanders, and the Caps would be playing golf!)

Since I've made predictions in other venues, I'll reprise them here:

East:

• Bruins-Canadiens
• Pens-Sens
• Caps-Flyers
• Rangers-Devils
  

West:

• Wings-Preds
• Ducks-Stars
• Sharks-Flames
• Wild-Avs
  

Cup Final: Sharks over Caps

My sister came to visit for the day, and joined me on my Saturday shopping rounds. We hit the LLBean outlet and Trader Joes, the stores she most wanted to get to. Then I took her to my local produce market and to the Italian cheese shop.

The produce market also sells bedding plants, herbs, and vegetable plants, in season, of course. Today, the shelves outside the store were full of herbs, parsley, basil, rosemary, and sage (at least), as well as lettuce plants. And there were rafts of petunias. I limited myself to a rosemary plant and a pot of basil. (If I'd seen the parsley before I checked out, I would have bought some of that also.)

After my sister left, I took two of the pots that had held herbs last year out on the deck, tossed out the roots, moistened and worked the soil, and added some fertilizer. The rosemary is, I hope happily, living in one pot, and the basil in another. I brought the pots in for the night, though, lest the overnight cold shock them too much. In addition, I cultivated the soil in one of the deck boxes. To my surprise, the chives from last year have come back, so I left them there. And I planted a bunch of onion sets for scallions.

Life is good.

So, I was getting ready to pay my deposit for lunassa's WOOL 2008 retreat. Because I'd just put a big car repair bill on my LL Bean credit card, I decided to pay with my Amazon credit card. But, when I pulled the card out of my wallet, I saw that it expired 03/08. I had no recollection of receiving a new card. Even though it was late enough that I really needed to go to bed so I could get to work reasonably on time, I started searching through all my piles of paper, wondering if the card had come and I'd piled it up with the junk mail that needs to be shredded or the magazine renewals that I'd decided to deal with later. No joy, so I quickly got on line to see if there had been any bogus charges on that account. Since I can never remember which of the brazilian user names and passwords I have goes with that account, I had to start by going through all the reminders. After ten minutes of futzing, I was able to verify that there were no questionable charges, so it was unlikely the card had been stolen from my mailbox.

Looking at the back of the old card, I found the 24-hour customer service number. It took a while for me to get to a human being, as a computer system told me I hadn't activated my new card (doh!), and did I want to do so. In addition, all the balance and payment information I'd already found out on line was repeated. Finally, I got connected with an actual live person who informed the that the new card had been mailed out in early February. I reiterated that I hadn't received it. He agreed that I should get a new replacement, and suggested a new number, just in case. Since I have other credit cards, the new card will be sent regular mail, and I'll get it by the end of next week.

When I got off the phone, I remembered that Friday is trash pickup. So I grabbed the kitchen garbage, put on a coat (it was raining), and brought the garbage to the curb. As I was locking the front door after coming back in, I noticed, on the floor under the end table closest to the door, an envelope with an anonymous Delaware return address. Yep. The replacement credit card that I'd thought I hadn't received. Oh well.

If — and this is an almost unimaginable if — the Senators' free fall were to continue to the point of their missing the playoffs, it would stand as one of the greatest collapses in sports history. People would speak of this bizarre season in the same way they remember the 1964 Philadelphia Phillies blowing a 6 1/2-game lead with 12 games to go in a baseball pennant race, or Greg Norman squandering a six-stroke lead going into the final round of the 1996 Masters.

Roy MacGregor's piece in Tuesday's Toronto Globe and Mail

It's so nice that he still thinks of the 1964 Phillies as having perpetrated the worst late-season collapse in baseball history.

The 2007 Mets thank him.

You know that problem with getting socks to fit that I blogged about yesterday? The one where the socks come out too long. Well, I thought I had it worked out yesterday, and the gold socks do indeed fit.

Well, I decided to put that understanding into practice and knit another pair of socks, in the type of yarn I use the most (Regia 4-ply). I wanted to have a formula I could just use, instead of figuring out what to do each time.



I did a lot of knitting yesterday and today, and am probably 90% done with the first sock. It fits pretty well, but there's still a bit of excess fabric right at the back of the heel.



It's not bad enough for me to want to rip back, but it's not a perfect fit by any means. I was contemplating using these formulas and pretending my foot is about 1/2" shorter than it is; that would work.

Then I went and looked at the book again. The numbers that I plugged into my spreadsheet came from the part where the book said "You usually wrap one third of the total sole stitches". So, I'd dutifully calculated N/6 (where N, for various reasons is twice the number of sole stitches). But, that's not what the book says. Right there on page 116, it says "You usually wrap a few less than a third of the total sole stitches". See that? A few less. A few less. A few less.

I'm going to have to change the spreadsheet to N/8 or N/9. That will give me a much better fit.

LETS GO BUFF-ALO! LETS GO BUFF-ALO!

That is all.