random recommendations, mostly!
- Snow is lining the tree branches and lightly covering the cars. The forecast is that we’ll accumulate up to 3″ today, and up to 2″ tomorrow. It’s coming down now, I can see it against the street light. Times like these, I miss Texas, where winter is more of a concept.
- How about a little of Kurt Vonnegut’s wisdom?
i love to fart around. i love to fulfill my purpose.
- And speaking of Kurt Vonnegut, do you know the little tumblr blog Slaughterhouse 90210? The blogger does a regular and hilarious juxtaposition of literary quote with photo from a tv show. Here’s a recent example, which (I hope!) encourages you to click over to the blog and maybe even subscribe:
“Could there be a slenderer, more insignificant thread in human history than this consciousness of a girl, busy with her small inferences of the way in which she could make her life pleasant?” — George Eliot, Daniel Deronda
- Hallelujah! One for authors and publishers: Google doesn’t get to give away all the books in the world for free. This is so, so, so, SO good. I know people expect and want everything available immediately, on line, and free, but they just haven’t thought through the implications of that model. The New York Times just moved to a subscription model, and my beliefs are being tested; I’m used to reading it all for free, will I pay for it? Or just find another newspaper online for free and bail on the NYT. I believe it’s worth paying for (though I find the NYTimes to be incredibly biased, like all media), but will I part with my money?
- Do you know Letters of Note? It’s another wonderful blog — there are regular posts of photographs of letters, like this one that Carl Sagan wrote to the Explorer’s Club (of which he was a member), saying that if they don’t change the rules and allow women membership, they will be the big losers.
- And one more recommendation: Unhappy Hipsters. The blogger takes the photos you see of upscale homes and writes often-hysterical captions for them. Here’s a recent example:
Reading the canine’s private diary was nothing short of shocking. And to think he’d believed they might be soul mates.
The blogs I’ve recommended here are in my “entertainment” folder in my Google Reader, so when I need a laugh or have a few spare minutes to giggle I open that folder and scan through them. They’re very good for that purpose.
It’s Wednesday, which means the weekly trip; I hope I see something funny or weird. At this time of year, New Yorkers just seem worn down by winter and the weirdness is kind of buried. On the subway, my fellow travelers look weary, their winter gear is abused and no longer so fresh and “yay, winter!” and there’s a lot of head-hanging. I love to look at the faces; their weariness gives me a better chance to do that. I always see the kids they used to be, I think about who they were when they were 20 and full of excitement and dreams. It always makes me love them, and remember that we’re all just making our way through the day, through our lives, doing what we can.
trying – OW! – to get — OUCH! — through the – OH! – day – OW!
I sure hope so — I’m getting tired of hearing my grumpy self. Today would’ve been just fine, even great, perhaps, but I slept wonky (wonkily, I guess) and woke up with a terrible crick in my neck. The muscle is a big knot, right where my neck joins my shoulder, and it’s spasming and I can’t turn my head in any direction. Breathing makes me gasp, you know that kind of deal? I just tried to eat, so I’d have something in my stomach for the aspirin to land on, but I couldn’t lean my head forward which, turns out you need to do a lot, to eat. I must’ve gotten stuck in one position in my sleep last night and goofed up that muscle.
But we had another snowstorm last night – a whopper – and it came with thunder and lightning again. Oh how I love that. We woke up to deep, deep, deep wet snow, the kind that’s great for snowballs and snowmen and sledding. Schools are closed, streets are unplowed, and it’s really beautiful (even though I have now legally and officially had ENOUGH OF THIS). I had to take a subway ride a couple of stops downtown from where I live, and I snapped these shots:
heavy piles of snow blanketing the trees -- it'll come crashing down very soon i'm sure
an urban snowman, with baby beets for buttons, and that's probably an organic carrot. this IS the upper west side, after all. 
I think I’ll crab walk my way over to the market and get a bottle of Brooklyn Brown Ale. Since I drink so rarely, a little bit goes a long way; maybe it’ll help relax that poor little knotted-up muscle. I’m sure y’all would be thrilled not to have to listen to me yelping every couple of seconds.
If you have any secret home remedies for spasming muscles that you’d be willing to share, heaven knows I’d love to hear them.
Marcia Brady + Willie Nelson + ELO = I need a break.
Last night I picked up Eve’s Rib, since I was on my “finish a sweater, whoo!” high. I hate that bitch. That’s really all there is to say. It’s the most ridiculously-written pattern. I frogged everything I did last night and put it back in Time Out. I didn’t sleep well last night and woke up feeling out of sorts and icky, and decided that what I needed was a quick-to-knit project. A bit of success to keep me on the knit wagon that I’d so recently fallen off of.
So I looked through my queue and my stash for inspiration, and decided to knit the Very Braidy Cowl. As it was surely intended to do, it made me think of…Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. I watched her a lot, when I was a kid. My parents were divorced, back when that was just beginning to think about maybe coming soon losing stigma. Our culture — at least mine, in Texas — wasn’t ready to go there yet, so being the divorced kid was kind of shameful. I didn’t know anyone else whose parents were divorced, and wouldn’t for quite a long time. So I watched The Brady Bunch. I don’t remember particularly identifying with or liking Marcia Brady (I had a very intense thing for David Cassidy so the Partridge Family had a different vibe for me), but she’s pretty iconic, isn’t she. My cowl, therefore, is named Oh Marcia.
ah....
And winter is getting me down, man. I’m from a place where winter is more of a concept than a reality, so this thing that just goes on and on and on is hard to take. Usually I skip along with it, but I’ll kind of get slammed here and there and feel like I can’t take it another day. That’ll last for a few days, then I’m back to being ok with it (unless it drags on through the end of April, and then that’s just ridiculous). So, I prowled my stash for something guaranteed to lift my spirits, something that would remind me of blue skies while I’m knitting and wearing Marcia (I guess I’ll call it that, for short). Luckily I have two skeins of this amazing Sweet Georgia worsted that I bought in Brooklyn, while shopping with Sherlock. The color name is summer skin.
So then THAT made me think of two songs that I love, Blue Skies (performed here by Willie Nelson of course) and Mr Blue Sky (ELO of course!). What a post. Marcia Brady, winter, Willie Nelson, and ELO. I tried to weave those pieces into something that made sense, but there’s only so much I could do. Off to knit….
ever wanted to see a NYC neighborhood in January?
Walk with me — I had to run a quick errand and took a couple of neighborhood shots with my phone (do we still call them that?):
my street, on the other side of Broadway - grim winter
see what I mean about the trash?!
one of the public schools in my neighborhood. I KNOW! Wild, right?
These weren’t taken in my neighborhood, but I think you’ll agree they’re very nice:
let's all make this New Year's resolution! I'M IN!!
ME TOO.
And with this, I quit making blog posts for the day!! Geez, get to work Lori.
what’s on YOUR needles? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours!
If you’re in the know, WOTN means what’s on the needles? Maybe I just made that up. Anyway, now you’re in the know too, so feel free to adopt WOTN Mondays for your own use, if you think you might be lazy on Mondays and need a guaranteed post. Ha. Not that I’m lazy today…..
So, WOTN! Item #1, the wedding shawl. Nupps are “fun.” I won’t show the shawl in its entirety, to preserve the surprise, but little bits here and there seem ok. Case in point: nupps.
nupps (unblocked, of course)
Next up on the needles: socks for my youngest daughter (nonrav link), whose dorm floors are very cold. I want to finish them by the time she comes home for spring break in a couple of weeks, so I’m alternating these with the shawl. (Doesn’t that gusset look mighty huge to you? It does to me.)
A's socks
While not technically on the needles, these are destined to be on the needles very soon – sock yarns chosen by my oldest daughter. Katie, which one do you want me to use first?
Lorna's Lace Shepherd Sock: Beverly
Knit One Crochet Too: Meadow
And finally, in this brief period between snows, I walked over to Riverside Park – my back yard, kind of – and I took a picture I take over and over, in all seasons. Here it is today:
winter view
And here it is a few months ago, and a few before that:
November
May
Seeing the park blanketed with snow, and ice in the Hudson River, made me think about Lent. I didn’t grow up in a church that focused on Lent (ours focused on the fun combination of both fire and brimstone), and I’m not religious in that way, but the idea of it struck me. There’s a longing for life to come – the life that’s pent up in the trees and plant life buried under the snow. The wheel turns, it’s bleak now, but rejuvenation is coming. It’s coming. The world will begin again, as it always does.
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