I'm Coming Back.....

Just a quick note to let everyone know I'll be back soon. My dad's memorial service was a couple days ago and now I have no more pressing obligations. The garden is coming up, I just picked the first of my roses and the creative juices are starting to flow. I am SO done with knitting socks for a while....

Thanks for all your heartfelt messages. This past 18 months have been very difficult but they've certainly taught me a lot. Not the least of which is that death is inevitable so I should breathe deep of that wonderful late spring fragrance in the air and appreciate my life.

I like something Tasha Tudor once said. I have this quote pinned on the wall in my studio:

"But it's interesting to go back in ones mind, over what you've done in your youth, and then you realize that every day that passes you have one day less in this fantastic world, and you should make the most of it. But I think so few people appreciate what a privilege it is to live in this beautiful world. And it is a beautiful world."

To Those Who Mourn

My dad left this earth this morning.

I like the following excerpt and would like to share it with you:


To Those Who Mourn

For that is the real truth:
man is a soul and has a body.
The body is not the man; it is only the clothing of a man.
What you call death is the laying aside of a worn-out garment,
and is no more the end of the man than it is the end of you
when you remove your coat.
Therefore you have not lost your friend;
you have only lost sight of the cloak
in which you were accustomed to see him.
The cloak is gone, but the man who wore it is not;
Surely it is the man that you love and not the garment.

C.W. Leadbeater


Thanks to everyone for your kindness and support during this difficult time.

Love, Angie

Cancer and the Washing Machine

My dad is a musician. He is dying from colon cancer with diabetic complications. He is spending his last weeks at a wonderful Hospice Care Center. I visit him every day. He is bedridden and can't do much of anything for himself anymore. His gradual physical (and now mental) deterioration has been difficult to witness.

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Hardest of all for him has been the loss of fine motor control in his hands due to diabetic neuropathy. He can no longer play the piano. More than walking, more so than even going to the bathroom by himself I believe, he regrets this loss. And what a wonderful player he was.

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Though classically trained in piano and French Horn he has a great love for jazz and a fabulous ear. Interesting chords, harmonies, progressions and improvisation interest him tremendously. From the time he was barely out of his teens he played jazz piano for extra money while in the Navy and later on in college. After he landed his steady job in the horn section of the Seattle Symphony in 1964 he still played clubs and traveled up and down the West Coast with a jazz combo during the breaks in the symphony season.

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Over the past few months while he's been in and out of nursing homes, various physical therapists have looked at his chart, noted his career as a musician and wheeled him up to the nearest piano. The idea was that the exercise of something so familiar and ingrained in his "muscle memory" would help him recover some movement in his hands. When he tried and his hands couldn't act upon his brain's commands it only broke his heart. He refused to continue with the therapy.
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Today I slipped away from my dad's bedside for an hour to run some errands and pop into the local thrift shop. One of the first things I found was a beautiful, traditional Aran cardigan; hand knit in 100% natural cream wool . The label said "Hand Knit By Jane Manheimer". And what a sweater! It was so well done I found myself congratulating this unknown woman out loud as I examined her handiwork.

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"Jane, look at your gorgeous cables and bobbles and diamonds! Oh my gosh, you knit back and forth on straight needles and sewed it up, didn't you? You didn't knit in the round? No? Knitting back and forth in these patterns is so difficult! And look how well you finished it! Wow! You really know what you're doing. I see no mistakes at all. I wonder who you knit this for?"

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Anyone looking at me certainly thought I was nuts. I fit right in with the homeless guy two rows over in the men's section, babbling drunkenly to himself. But I was so truly so excited I wanted to grab the nearest shopper by the arm (even the drunk guy) and make them appreciate Jane's talent and skill as evidenced by this perfectly knitted sweater.

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Then I tried it on.

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Yes, it was too small for me but it wasn't too small because it was knit for a child or because I was too big. It was too small because some idiot had thrown this beautiful product of Jane Manheimer's skill, time and talent in the washing machine and ruined it. The washing machine had not only shrunken the sweater, it had misshapen it in such a way that no one of any size could ever properly wear it.

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Being a great lover of recycled sweater projects I tried to think of a use for Jane's poor, shrunken sweater. A part of a doll? A throw pillow? ????? Thinking that the use would come to me if I carried it around long enough, I hugged the sweater as I browsed. I reluctantly hung it back up before I left. I don't think I have the heart to cut into Jane's sweater, even in the hope of resurrecting it.

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Then it occurred to me that Jane Manheimer and my dad have a lot in common. My dad's diabetes and cancer are the idiot and the washing machine, ruining the results of skill, time, talent and love.

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I got back in the car and drove the few blocks back to my dad. Later as I drove home I regretted that I had to leave both my dad and Jane's sweater behind.

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I only hope Jane never knew what became of her lovely sweater.

Granola Bar Love

Remember what Alvy Singer says to Annie Hall when she asks if he loves her? "Love is too weak a word." he says. "I lerve you. I luff you. There are two f's."

Oddly enough, I think of this very exchange when I eat one of these granola bars. My sentiments surpass love and move on to lerve. And I don't go there often.
These bars are crunchy. They're chewy. They're sweet but not too much. They're a treat that's healthy enough to grab for a quick breakfast.

Now that I've talked them up so much you'll try the recipe and shrug. "Eh? " You'll say. "What's the big deal?" Maybe you won't luff them. But I'm willing to bet you'll like them pretty well. What follows is the recipe that I've tweaked and that I like. The parentheses show variations that you may prefer to the original.

Chewy Crunchy Granola Bars

2 c rolled oats

1 c unsweetened coconut

1 c sliced or whole almonds

1/2 c oat bran (or wheat germ)

1/2-3/4 c dates, diced

1/2-3/4 c dried cranberries (or any other dried fruit)

3 Tb butter or coconut oil (or canola)

2/3 c rice syrup (or part agave, honey or maple syrup-any natural liquid sweetener)

1/4 c Rapadura (or sucanat or brown sugar)

1/2 tsp sea salt

1 tsp vanilla

Mix oats, coconut and sliced almonds (if using) in 9x13 pan. Toast in a 350 oven for 5-10 minutes or until lightly toasted. You may have to stir this once halfway through. (If you're using whole almonds toast separately and chop)

In large bowl combine oat bran (or wheat germ) with dried fruit. Mix well to keep sticky fruit from clumping together. Add oat mixture to this when it's finished toasting. Lower oven temp to 300.

Line your 9x13 pan with aluminum foil and grease it.

Combine oil or butter, liquid sweetener, Rapadura (or brown sugar), and salt in sauce pan. Bring to boil and cook 2 - 3 minutes. No more! Take off heat. Stir in vanilla.

Pour over oat and fruit mixture and stir well to combine. With wet hands, press into pan.

Bake for about 10-15 minutes, until lightly browned on top.

When cool enough to handle use aluminum foil to lift the whole thing onto cooling rack. Cut into bars. Store airtight.

Tips and Variations
If you use a sweeter sweetener (like honey) use dried fruit on the tart side (like cranberries). If you use mostly rice syrup (not so sweet) go for a sweeter fruit.

Chocolate Chewy Granola Bars: Sprinkle with chocolate when bars come out of oven. Spread it out as it melts.

Sweet and Salty: I haven't tried this yet but I think it would be GREAT in this recipe: Simply replace the almonds with 1 1 /2 cups salted mixed nuts. Proceed as usual.

And don't forget to enjoy one of those lerve-ly granola bars with a double short soy latte with a bit of orange peel and lots of foam. Ooooo! Enjoy!

Hey Hey, Let's Knit a Beret!

Okay, so it all started three days ago when we were loading the kids into the truck for a jaunt up to chilly Port Townsend. Everybody had a warm hat except me. I was reduced to wearing the kitty hat I knit for my 10 year old when she was a toddler. This was ridiculous. I grabbed some yarn I spun and dyed with madder root and whatever needles I thought might work and knit my way up to P.T. and back. I kind of winged this hat at the beginning then when I got home I found a pattern I could loosely follow for the remainder of the hat (namely the decreases).

I must say, I have Elizabeth Zimmermann to thank for this fearless leap into knitting improvisation. I love that woman.

So here's what I did:

I did a gauge swatch (thank you, Mrs. Zimmermann) to figure out how many stitches to the inch I got from my yarn with my needles. 4 stitches to the inch. Okay, I knew I was going for a 21 inch circumference around my head so I just multiplied 4x21=84. That was how many stitches I cast on. I worked a garter stitch brim for about an inch then doubled my stitches all at once by M1 (knit in the front and back of the same stitch) all the way around . Now I had 168 stitches and I just knit in the round like crazy until I determined it was time to decrease. From then on I pretty much followed the instructions at Purl Bee.

When I was done the thing pretty much looked like a shapeless mass:

So I washed it , spun it out and shaped it around a large dinner plate to dry into a beret-like shape. Here's a top view. I like the irregularities in the dyed wool:

Then I put it on a rack over the wood cookstove to dry more quickly. I'm impatient, I know.

I stuck a pin on the thing and viola! A hat! I may have to needle felt a flower or something to decorate it but for now this will do. And now I have something warm to wear that doesn't' have a kitty on it!

To Dye For

Omigosh. How much fun is it to dye yarn? Lots! How scary is it to risk ruining the wool you spent hours spinning and plying? A bit...

My friend Mary and I have knitting and dyeing aspirations for the new year. Thanks to a couple Christmas gift certificates (thanks Connie and Mom!) I signed up for a beginning Fair Isle class at our wonderful local Churchmouse Yarn and Teas. I needed a few colored yarns for the class so I thought I'd try dyeing my yarn with Wilton Food Colors. They're concentrated, they're safe, they're color fast and they're cheap ($1.49 each at Wal Mart). What's not to like?

I started with Shetland roving I spun and triple-plied. I thought the grey wool would keep the colors a little muted. Yeah, right. Here's the yarn in a burgundy dyebath mixed with a little lemon yellow. I wasn't sure about it and almost threw it out but my 10 year old encouraged me to "be bold!" so I did and plunked my yarn in anyway. It's not the true red I was looking for but I like it. Look at the dye bath color opposed to the yarn color. Weird... The exhausted dyebath was totally green as I poured it down the sink.

This is Wilton's Royal Blue. I'm taking this off the heat now to cool. I think it's about done.

And this is Wilton's Lemon Yellow.

Here they are in the colander along with a ball of the undyed original grey yarn.

Here they are all done, cooled, rinsed and hung up to dry. They're a little bold for my taste and next time I will use less dye so the colors are a little softer but all in all I think they will be fun to work with. I think I'll dye another skein a little lighter shade of this blue and then I'll be done for my class. There are some great articles at Knitty about this process and I highly recommend them.
I encourage you to try this. It's really fun!

Wool S-AAHH-cks (or, Why Knit Your Own?)

The weather turned cold a couple days ago. We built the first all-day-long fire in the old cookstove and I started hunting for my sweaters. My feet were cold. I found my newly finished wool socks and wore them all day for the first time. AAAHH, how nice they felt! How thankful I was for these socks. And it wasn't the first time. I do believe these humble socks have given me much more than the many hours I put into them. And I think their story illustrates the benefits of making things yourself. It's the process that makes the product special.

I enjoyed spinning this light grey wool from sheep raised right down the road. I had the thrill of trying out a couple different shades of green Kool Aid on my yarn. It worked-I liked the color variations. It was fun to see how the colors came together in different ways as I knit. I marveled yet again at the short rows that magically turn the heel. Heels never cease to amaze me. I'm grateful for all these fun discoveries.

But even more than these I'm thankful for the socks keeping my hands busy during a summer of numerous hospital and nursing home visits and dreadful diagnoses. They were my constant companions as my dad lay dozing in his bed next to my chair. Always I had the comforting monotony of the yarn and the needles. They distracted my eyes when I couldn't look him in the face or when I didn't want him to see my tears. They gave my hands something mindless to fidget with when my mind was racing and there wasn't room in my head for a more creative project. My dad noted their progress each day. They gave the nurses and me something to talk about. They were truly a godsend during this difficult time.
And now they're done. They're pretty, they're practical and there's not a pair in the world like them. And did I mention how yummy they feel?
I wore them today when I visited my dad. I am his nurse now. As he lay on his bed I remembered I had my new socks on. I slipped off my shoe and threw my foot up on the bed. "Hey, you finished them!" he said.
So as I wear my new socks I think about all that went into them and all I got (and am still getting) out of them. I think I came out ahead. "Why knit socks?" a friend asks me. This is why.

So now I'm anxious for another pair. Here's my newest sock project. I wonder what these will give me?