Quote of the week

"Unfortunately the Ativan I took to deal with my anxiety about going to meetings has made me sleepy during this meeting and that makes me anxious," I overheard one of my co-workers say at the weekly staff meeting yesterday.

And that pretty much sums up my experiences with antidepressants. The trick seems to be finding a medication whose side effects don't mess up my life worse than the depression does.

However, I am back to knitting. I've been working on several pairs of socks based on variants of the modular hexagon pattern in the "Think Outside the Sox" book. It's nice to be at least somewhat back to my usual routine.

Anxiety disorder du jour

I've been knitting lots of hats lately. I've no idea where the camera is, and no motivation to take pictures of them, but at last count I have completed three hats in as many weeks. I have six more in progress at varying stages of completion.
While I still despise knitting scarves, I'm finding that hats are a good way of using up all my sample skeins and remnant balls of handspun yarn that I keep for sentimental value. Not only are stripes colorful and fashionable on hats, but my CDO (like OCD, but the letters are in alphabetical order, like they are supposed to be) doesn't kick in quite so bad when I'm knitting hats.
As I see it, a scarf should be fashionable, or warm, or soft, or at least pleasant-looking enough that you're not ashamed to take it out in public. All a hat needs to do is fit on someone's head. The fact that there's only a half row of fuzzy pink yarn on a hat project seems an appropriate way to use the yarn and add color--but if it were on a scarf I'd feel the need to rip it out if I didn't have enough yarn to repeat the stripe at the other end for "symmetry."

Found a new pet project

I try to keep my political leanings to myself on this blog. Sometimes I even succeed. But I feel no such qualms when it comes to sex education and STD prevention. Sharing knowledge about contraception and how to avoid preventable diseases ranks right up there with "Women are people!" on my list of things I want to share with the world. ("Jesus loves you!" is first on the list, but I think that working on the other two as well helps get across the message that Jesus cares about your life as well as your soul.)

Ever since I dealt with an ill-informed minister who declared (in 2005, mind you)  "HIV is God's judgement against homosexuality," I've felt extremely passionate about HIV prevention. Especially in over-looked populations, like older women. I realize that no one wants to talk to Nanna about her sex life now that she's dating again, but it's a lot better to have an embarassing conversation with her now than to later look back regretfully and wish you had. If you care enough to remind her to get a flu shot, you should be willing to mention that there's a lot of nasty STIs out there and how to prevent them. 

And then I found this site, which seems to link this quite handily with my yarn obsession. Knit A Condom Amulet!  What a wonderful way to raise awareness of this problem. (and use up scrap yarn.)

Writer's block

I've been dealing with a serious case of writer's block this month. (And my sore throat, which has returned.) While I'm probably writing less words per day in patient chart notes at this job than at any other nursing job I've ever had, when I come home at the end of the day I don't want to write on the blog. I just want to sit and knit or spin and spend some time with the Mimi and Brian.
I've been commissioned to make a baby hat, booties, and mitts for a friend, and she's paying me. I don't usually make baby things, but I will for her. Hooray for yarn money!

Family Christmas

I've been too distracted lately to post much on the blog, but I thought I'd put up pictures of what I've been up to in the last couple of weeks.

We had a lovely immediate family Christmas Eve celebration at my sister in law's house. After trying desperately (and failing miserably) to keep Shirley out of the Christmas tree, we finally let her help decorate it. There was a definite line of ornaments all along the tree showing where she could reach!

For Brian's adopted grandmother Shirley, I knitted a variation on the Ice Queen cowl from knitty.com. I hate working with mohair, so I used my silk handspun yarn. And since it was my first time working lace from a chart, I left the beads off.

For a first project working lace from a chart in the round, it was fun to knit and surprisingly easy. I had so much fun working on it that I'm already planning to make one for myself, with the beads!

My brother in law got my name for the massive family Christmas gift exchange. Instead of a gift certificate, he gave me money for yarn. That was very nice of him, and I've already gone on a sock yarn-buying binge at Little Knits. But the way he wrapped it deserves special mention. (Yes, that is a five dollar bill sticking out of a ball of "the wildest crazy acrylic yarn I could find for you.")

I forsee someone getting an especially vibrant hat for his birthday...

Finished the sweater!

I finished the Sonnet cardigan!

I have a job!

What does it take to make me finish a sweater? (Don't get Brian started on this topic.) Since I knit mainly for relaxation and have the attention span of a heavily-caffinated rodent, I generally have between five and twenty projects in varying stages of completion.
I've been working on a bulky-weight version of the Sonnet cardigan out of handspun superwash wool since May. I'm midway through the last sleeve, and starting to run low on yarn. I'm down to the last ball, and I have a paranoid fear that I'll be five rows from completion and then completely run out of yarn.
So it has languished in my UFO bin for the last four months. But after finding out that I start a temporary job next Wednesday (and the required attire is business casual) I've been knitting on it like a mad woman.

He is risen!

I love Easter. Probably it has something to do with my childish joy over any holiday that involves special church services, lots of loud singing, and Marshmallow Peeps, but Easter is my all-time favorite holiday in the entire church year. (My favorite personal holiday is the Winter Solstice, but that's just because it means that the light will come back and my seasonal depression will get better. And since God apparently chose to make me with seasonal issues like this, I trust that God understands. It's strangely difficult to find cards that say "Happy Winter Solstice," so I usually settle for "Happy Holidays.")

It's spring-time, flowers are blooming, wildlife is reproducing (A note to the neighborhood feline population: Please try to modulate the volume on your late-night serenades and lover's quarrels. The cuteness of your eventual offspring does not outweigh the disturbance you are currently causing in my sleep.) and God has conquered Sin and Death and Hell! Jesus is risen from the dead, HOW COOL IS THAT!?

I had planned to spend the previous week in Wyoming visiting Grandma, as the 9th was her 80th birthday. However, due to "budgetary shortfalls," we're having to delay the trip until August, when the passes will be clear enough to drive. (I haven't had the heart to tell our trusty Toyota that it's got a four-cylinder engine, but the fact remains that it's mostly fiberglass. I refuse to drive in snow and ice unless it's absolutely unavoidable.)

So we spent Easter weekend with Penny and Dave. After a very disturbing midnight cryptic text message from Mom (which I followed up with multiple panicked telephone calls after I checked my messages at 0500) I found out that Grandma had fallen, gotten a subdural hematoma, had emergency surgery, and was in ICU in Cheyenne.

And as of yesterday, she's still in ICU. Granted, of all the things which can possibly be interpreted as "bleeding on the brain," a subdural hematoma is one of the easiest to fix, but brain surgery when you're 80 is still...brain surgery! I'm trying to turn off the "nursing panic" that comes from having the letters "RN" behind my name and knowing what could go wrong, but it's still hard.

(Extra points to the ICU nurse I first talked to on Sunday when I couldn't get ahold of any of the family. "I can't tell you anything because of the HIPPA act and the privacy laws, OK?"
"I know that," I said. "I'm a RN in Oregon and can you just tell me how many drips she's attached to so I can know if I need to fly out there right now?"
She chuckled. "Okay, I'm not telling you this, but your grandma's awake, talking to us, and doing much better than before the surgery.")

So I'm doing what I usually do when family members are sick and I can't sleep and I'm worried--knitting. I've got about 1200 yards of handspun in a pink/orange/brown/ colorway (And about 2 more ounces of my own "crazy batt" to spin up more in case I run short.) and I've started the gauge swatch for Sonnet. Thank God for nice easy mindless knitting.

Knitting update

One of the most annoying things (other than that whole pain part) about the contractions is that ignoring them makes it very difficult to concentrate on anything else. Not only can I not recall the last time I was able to read a book from start to finish, but I haven't been able to do much knitting. (As I hate frogging projects for any reason, if I'm worried that I'm going to mess up the project because I can't concentrate enough to follow the directions, I don't work on it.)

I did, however, manage to finish the last sleeve on Arisaig. But because I started it when my measurements were 34-28-34 and I'm now 38-38-38, it's going to live in the cedar chest with my lace shawls until after Shirley arrives and we see what my final postpartum measurements turn out to be before I finish sewing it up and add the neckband and ties. If it's meant to be, it'll fit me eventually. And if not, I had a lot of fun making it. But in the meantime, there's no point in getting frustrated that it doesn't fit me.

I'm also working on a different wrap cardigan in the Jade Sapphire silk/cashmere Brian bought me for my birthday last year. I hope I've got enough yarn to finish it, because I've only got 1200 yards and they've discontinued anything even remotely like that colorway.

And I won't post pics of it, because I do want it to be a surprise. A dear friend of mine has been going through infertility treatments, and having a rough time with side effects from the meds. So I knit her a little something as a reminder that she's in my thoughts and prayers. Loosely inspired by Snatchel, it should give her a good laugh if nothing else.

waiting

It seems like I've spent a lot of time waiting over the last year. Waiting for the right church to call Brian. Waiting find out if I've gotten a job. Waiting for the strike to be over and some of the tension to die down at work. Waiting for the health insurance to kick in. Waiting for that "magic" 36 week mark to come so I can worry less about my daughter being premature. And of course, waiting for Shirley to come. (Much like I conceptualize Jesus' eventual return, I believe Shirley will come when she "feels like it.")

While I was waiting for bedrest to be over, my amaryllis bloomed. Isn't it pretty? I love the way their petals get that iridescent sheen to them, and I'm glad I managed to capture it on film.

I started the Arisaig cardigan in May with some beautiful laceweight yarn Brian bought me for my birthday. After I woke up one afternoon in August and realized that by the time I got it done, it wouldn't fit around my pregnant belly, I lost interest in it. So I put the sweater-in-progress (who am I kidding? The 3/4 of the back I had knitted) into storage.

(I just love the contrast between the openness of the lace and the ribbing. And this is with it un-blocked!)

Last month, I realized that by the time I got it done, either it would fit me or I'd only have to wait a month or two until it did fit, making it a fantastic project to do on bedrest. Now all I have left to do is finish the last sleeve before I block it and add a button band.

I woke up Tuesday at 0400 with contractions every 3 minutes. They didn't hurt really bad, but not only did they not change after my scheduled dose of anti-contraction meds, but I've never had contractions that frequently before. So I called the doc on call, and they said to get my butt to labor and delivery triage once more.

Where we wasted most of the morning waiting to see if the contractions were going to "do anything" to my cervix, meaning that it was really "real labor" this time. And of course, the answer was no. So we went home again with instructions to drink lots of fluids and follow up with my obstetrician Wednesday.

The doc took me off the anti-contraction drugs and told me "if the baby doesn't come by then, I'll see you next Wednesday." Then she went through the usual speech about if the contractions come so far apart for one hour, it was time to go to the hospital.

I pointed out that this line of thinking had caused me to fruitlessly loiter in L&D the previous day, and if it was all the same to her, I'd prefer to postpone the run to the hospital until the contractions were severe enough that they interfered with my ability to talk, walk, breathe, or otherwise function. (If I'm going to be having contractions no matter what, I'd just as soon make myself comfortable at home rather than be strapped to a monitor in a very uncomfortable hospital bed. When a nice hot shower and some pretty yarn don't do a darn thing to make me feel better, then it's time to call the doc and come on in.)

And after reviewing some other reasons for an immediate trip to the hospital, she agreed that this was reasonable.

And today? I've been having contractions every 5 minutes since about 1900 last night. They're gradually getting more intense, but it's a really slow process. At this rate, they won't meet my criteria for driving to the hospital until after Saturday's baby shower! It's a bit ironic that after waiting all month to be allowed off bedrest, now I'm waiting for "real labor" to happen.

I believe...

After much encouragement from Brian, I finally got off my lazy bum and tidied up one of my patterns enough to submit it for publication.

Remember this picture?


It is the result of reading Debbie New books late at night and thinking, "Hey, that could be fun!" The final product looks like this:


And now it lives at one of my favorite online magazines.

The new job is going well so far. I worked my first shift on the floor yesterday. And because I still (a) occasionally have to dash to the bathroom when I'm worried I'm going to throw up suddenly and (b) grimace and spasmodicly clutch my abdomen when Shirley decides to perform a complete 360 degree sommersault, I was up front about the fact that I'm five and a half months pregnant. (I'm not going to be able to hide her much longer, even if empire waisted shirts are back in.)

"I don't believe it! You don't look pregnant!" was what several of them said.

"Just because you don't see her, doesn't mean she isn't kicking my bladder," was my response.

And on the drive home, it struck me that with a bit of tweaking, this is a pretty standard response for believing in God or other spiritual things. (Without tweaking, it's a very scary comment on God.) I shared this with Brian.

"You're right love, it does work as that. But it's also an argument for pretty much anything you can't see--like the existence of elves."

Maybe I can convince the Keebler elves to bring me some cookies....

Sick, but less whiny

Two and a half weeks later, I still have the @#$%ing cold! Thankfully, the doc gave me antibiotics and they work reasonably well. I've stopped running a fever, coughing up green stuff, and feeling like an asthma attack was going to happen at any minute. But I'm still coughing. While it's been about a week since I had a coughing fit so bad that I started puking (The first night I was back to work after I started the antibiotics, I accidentally vomited all over the staff bathroom. I appologized profusely to April the night housekeeper when I asked her if she'd mop up.) the regular coughing fits are annoying.

I had an immunocompromised patient earlier this week. (Medicalspeak for "we don't know why, but your immune system has decided to take off on an extended holiday, so don't be surprised if you get deathly ill from some common problem that doesn't trouble most people.") She asked me why everyone else was wearing gloves before they cared for her, but I was wearing a mask as well. "Does this mean my family should be wearing masks too?"

"I have a cold," I told her. "I've had it for nearly three weeks now, so it seems to like me. But I don't imagine you want it." She agreed that this was a reasonable precaution.

We got to hear Genghis' heartbeat at the doctor's office visit. Apparently, in spite of all the worry I've had over losing eight pounds due to morning sickness while not being able to take in much calories, he's doing all right. Since the morning sickness has eased a bit (when I'm not coughing) I've started gaining the weight back. I'm only about two pounds heavier than my usual non-pregnant weight, but the baby bump is growing steadily.

I've been knitting EJ a pair of socks for his birthday next month. (As usual, I'm too lazy to go find the camera.) I'd forgotten just how hard it is to knit a full size pair of men's socks in Army desert tan. Cursed short attention span!

On Sunday, we went to a different church to watch Nancy, one of the gals I work with, dedicate her baby to the Lord. She adopted Lydia from Guatemala earlier this year, and she is a beautiful little girl! (The usual toddler preference for pink coupled with her dark hair means that the resemblance to Dora the Explorer (her favorite character) is striking.) It's been wonderful to see Nancy's joy at motherhood these last few months. When I do get around to downloading pics, I need to post the ones I took of the service.

Projects that lead to insanity

Every so often, I'm overcome with guilt for not making this blog more about knitting. After all, if it's titled "Naomi Knits," maybe it should have some yarn-related content. Maybe I shouldn't use it as a soapbox for whatever thoughts are bouncing through my head. Perhaps I need to confine my topic to knitting, or even just continue with my usual slavish imitation of Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. Then again, it's my blog and I'll write about whatever I feel like writing about.

The last several weeks have been very busy for me. There's a new staffing grid at work. The upside of this is that there are more nurses on night shift, and every so often I get to eat lunch during work. (Thank God for Pepsi, or I'd probably collapse from hypoglycemia!) The downside of this is that now the staffing office calls me much more regularly on my nights off to beg me to come in and work extra shifts.

Consequently, I have a backlog of projects that I've photographed over the last few weeks and have yet to show off.

To begin with, I love stuffed animals. When I found an adorable pattern for miniature teddy bears in a knitting book, I was unable to resist the pull of its cuteness. (Yes, that is a US quarter in the picture next to it.) Next, I realized that the bear needed clothes and crocheted it an outfit. Lastly, I shipped it off to my mother-in-law, who has made dollhouse miniatures for years and therefore was truly able to appreciate the insanity that this project represented. (Total time: 20 hours= one half pair of socks.)

When I'm not knitting, I've been working on dyeing. I've been dyeing yarn with Kool-Aid and food coloring for about a year now, but lately I've progressed to dyeing roving. Ever since I blew all my Christmas money at the Wool Peddler on superwash wool roving, I have been experimenting to see precisely what happens when you dye roving with my usual methods.

And here is the single I spun from it:

And here are the socks I am knitting for myself:

I'm not sure how much time I have spent on this particular project, but so far the total is at least 45 hours, and I only have the cuff of the first sock done. I don't suffer from insanity--I enjoy every minute of it.

Socks that lead to insanity

I finally finished Jessica's socks.



The picture doesn't show it off particularly well, but in addition to the 5-rib cable running down both sides of the cuff, I ran a 2x2 cable down either side of the instep. When I got to the toe, I had yet another lapse of sanity, and managed to coordinate my decreases so the cable continues and becomes partof the toe shaping.

They took five weeks, which makes them the second-hardest pair of socks I've ever designed and knit. The grand prize winner in the "Nomi Went Nuts While Knitting" competition is this pair of socks:



(it does have a mate, I'm just too lazy to get up and take a picture of them together.)


They were my 2005 Christmas gift to myself (and I seem to recall someone asking if I could do cables that were two-colored...) and like many other small good things, they took nine months to complete. I started them in December 2005, and I finished them in September 2006 as I visited my brother in the hospital.

And what am I doing now? I'm working on a pair of socks in a self-striping yarn that I hand-spun from superwash roving.


They say that admitting you have a problem is the first step...

I am not nocturnal!

I've officially started working nights at a local hospital. And once again, I am forced to confront my own mortality. No, not in any deep philosophical vein of thought dealing with death. (I'm far too sleep-deprived to even begin contemplating such a profound topic.) No, what I speak of is the frailty of my own body. Specifically, the fact that it refuses to function on less than six hours of sleep.
Left to my own devices, I will go to sleep at ten in the evening and wake up at eight. Why? Because when God made me, God apparently said to the angels, "Hey, let's make her need ten hours of sleep--just to do something different for once!" And the angels nodded their heads and chorused back to God, "Good idea, Boss!"
Unfortunately, this example of questionably Intelligent Design means that if I stay up past midnight, my head turns into a pumpkin. I develop a searing headache and my capacity for rational thought goes through the toilet. In five years of college, I never once pulled an all-nighter--because I knew the end result would probably lower my grade more than skipping the assignment.
I worked Wednesday and Thursday nights. This meant that in the thirty six hours from 8:45am Friday to 8:45pm today, I slept for about twenty three of those hours. It's nice to have a job, but the idea that working nights means that I won't have a life really is taking some getting used to.

I get so much more knitting accomplished when I'm not working. (The flip side of this is that jobs help me pay for yarn, so I suppose that there is some merit to gainful employment.)
The burgundy cabled socks I started on for EJ are not going to be his gift after all. When I tried them on to check the length, I realized that the cables made the sock pull in far more than I'd anticipated. And if I can barely get them on over my size 8 women's foot, there was no way they'd fit my brother's size 10 men's feet. So, rather than rip out four day's knitting, and start over, I think they'll be a gift for one of my female friends. One of the ones with small feet.
Which means... I have no idea what EJ will get for Christmas. Maybe a learn-to-knit-yourself-socks kit? I think this Red Cross commemorative one comes in a suitably masculine bile green color.

Yarn stashes and short attention spans

The employee orientation for my new job began earlier this week. And for sitting still for eight hours a day listening to presentations on scintillating topics such as "the Corporate Code of Conduct," the pay wasn't bad.
Unfortunately, due to the the vagaries of corporate payrolls, I won't get paid for another three weeks. Which means that buying more yarn will probably have to wait until after Christmas, when we're a bit more on our feet financially.
As any knittaholic knows, Christmas is the biggest gift-giving occasion of the year. I may knit other things, but when I'm in doubt as to what to make for someone, I have an old-standby. In the words of Meegan, my sis-in-law, "Socks! Socks! Socks!" make a great gift.
While my grandma has adorably small feet and it's easy (and quick!) to knit socks for her, the men in the family are a bit-more big boned. And at this point of Christmas knitting insanity, I'm not sure if I have enough sock yarn that's all of one color (or even enough yarn of coordinating colors) to do a pair of men's socks. (And convincing my brother that I made him socks that are pink with purple stripes "because I love you" might be a bit of a hard sell.)
And then I found the box of extra yarn I'd packed in April before we moved to Nome. (With my short attention span, it's like visiting the yarn store, but with someone else footing the bill!)
While most of it is leftover worsted-weight acrylic from a smocked sweater I finished in March, I did find this:

And while I have no idea what you're supposed to use sport-weight cotton crochet thread for, the Knitting Fairy visited me last night as I sat
watching reruns of Lois and Clark and bemoaning the amount of turkey I'd eaten.
Clad solely in skeins of Lorna's Laces, she flitted through the living room, doing a few pirouettes as she gaily waved her hand-carved rosewood needles. "You hate doing doilies!" she reminded me, using a needle to secure her bun of flyaway graying hair. "And it'd be silly to waste good yarn doing a project you despise. But..."
She let the words hang in the air as she added the other needle to her bun. "It's the same weight as your beloved cotton from Knit Picks --wouldn't it make lovely men's socks?"
And with those parting words, she cartwheeled out of my apartment.

So I decided to start work on this:
Cotton tends to be a bit slouchy for socks, but it's always a nice option for people with a wool allergy. Between my and Brian's families, about 75% of the relatives I like well enough to consider making socks for them are allergic to wool. (And I can never remember which ones are in the lucky 25%.)
I've had varying degrees of success with knitting cotton socks over the years, but I know cables will solidify any cuff that's at risk for sagging. Just in case, I twisted all the ribbing stitches, and threw in a heavy 5-rib cable on both sides of the cuff for stability. I'm not sure how durable this mystery yarn is, but if my brother EJ wears out these socks, it won't be due to a flaw in the construction!

Felting gone bad

Many of you know that I have an admittedly ambiguous relationship with Interweave Knits. I love their detailed illustrations of new knitting techniques, and their designs usually go out of fashion much more slowly than those of other publications. (Vogue Knitting, anyone?) Their patterns are beautiful, but knitting their creations to the author's specifications would require me to choose between spending money on groceries or yarn. (And you all know which one I would choose, but Brian likes to eat from time to time.)

And those projects which are small and require comparatively inexpensive yarn (or smaller amounts of their favored pricey fiber) generally make me sit back and go "What were they thinking?"

For example, behold the holiday 2006 special edition of Interweave Knits. Specifically, the "Wooly Pears" project on page 14. They look cute, and judging from the pattern, reasonably easy to make. However, the question remains: "Who wakes up in the morning, wanting something to knit, and says "I'd like to knit fruit, and then I want to felt it"?"

Apparently, Nicky Epstein does.