A slice of time: Dog in leaves

A red sweater

When the cool winds begin to blow again, I start to crave yarn. The softer the better. And knitting stores call my name. It's so easy to visit the local yarn shops and pick up yarns to grow my stash — which grows and grows very easily and very quickly since knitting is a slow process for me.

Each year, though, I learn a little bit more. I started with scarves. For years I constructed lots of really bad scarves. And then I took a mitten class. Best thing I ever did for my knitting — it boosted my confidence, and I came out of it with a pair of pretty nifty chunky blue mittens.

Last year I knitted Geoff my first hat in a luscious deep gray and bright orange. (It matches his coat.) I also finished my first truly challenging gift, a fun scarf made from hand-dyed organic yarn. That was my first attempt at ruffles (and at a pattern that went beyond straight knit or knit-purl) and it turned out quite well, if I do say so myself. The gift was meant for Christmas — and even though I missed that deadline by a few months, it was still cold enough for the recipient to wear it a few times before the warm weather hit. This summer I finished a pair of fingerless mittens for myself. I knit all through a road trip to and from Portland, Oregon. And I love every little stitch.

Anywho, this fall I've finally cast on my first sweater. It's a pattern I've had laying around since before I picked up my first needles. And the yarn, cozy and candy apple red, has been taking up room in my stash for years now.

As you can see, I'm not far. This is the first of five components (the neck) that will ultimately be stitched together.

While I'm proud of how far I've come, I'm just as proud right now of a little DIY accomplishment. See that wine cork on the end of my needle?

Cool, huh? 

I realized my stitches were so stuffed on the needle that I should probably invest in some end caps so I wouldn't lose stitches in between knitting sessions. I visited a few stores, but 1) didn't really like any of the caps I found and 2) didn't want to pay $5 for a cap. So I came home, a bit dejected.

But as I sat in my living room one day, and saw the glass jar full of wine bottle corks on my coffee table, I came up with an idea. I grabbed a cork, ran upstairs and shoved it on the end of the needle.

Voila! A knitting needle end cap that fits any size needle. And I've got tons of them ready for any project.

I like them for another reason, too. Every time I see a cork, I'm reminded of a wine I shared with my husband and/or friends. (In this case, one of my favorites, an Aveleda Vinho Verde.)

So my motto for today? Recycle, reuse, remember and knit on, my friends. Knit on.

A slice of time: Fall punkins

Super Sita

Well, hello there. I'm already feeling behind on this blog I just started, but that's what I get for trying to kick off a new project right before one of two of the busiest times at work.

But I'm back, and I'm hear to share a bit about an amazing film I saw recently, Sita Sings the Blues.

I have to give credit to Geoff for labeling it a mix of Disney's Fantasia and MST3K. That hits it on many buttons. Sita was developed by Nina Paley, a self-taught animator, and she describes it as a "musical, animated personal interpretation of the Indian epic the Ramayana." It also intertwines Paley's personal story about the failure of her marriage.

Sita is entertaining, funny, colorful and heartwarming. (Love the cat named Lexi!) It also features the music of Annette Hanshaw, one of the first great female jazz performers of the late 1920s.

And if all that isn't cool enough, Paley is distributing Sita via a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike License, which means a lot of things detailed here. But perhaps the coolest element is that you can download Sita and watch it for free. Yes, free. (Note: Donations always accepted but not at all necessary.)

So, what are you waiting for? Check out Sita Sings the Blues, and may you enjoy it as much as I did.

Fall fun

I have a love-hate relationship with fall in Colorado. Fall, back in Illinois, is a beautiful time of year. The air is crisp. The leaves take their time changing colors. Snow, in September, is basically unheard of.

Fall in Colorado seems to happen overnight. One day it's summer; the next, as in today (officially fall), we have predictions of 5 to 7 inches of snow overnight. And by the end of the week, it'll be hot and summery again. As you can imagine, this really messes up the growing season. I don't know how the plants and trees survive. And forget trying to dress appropriately.

But fall is also a wonderful time here because the amount of available cultural activities increases significantly. Colorado College is back in session, and the theater and music groups begin their annual seasons. It's rare to not find something to open your mind and heart to any evening of the week, if you so choose.

Two such events have happened for me just over the past week. The first, a showing of an indie film, Ink.

Ink was filmed in Denver, by Coloradans. Last Wednesday, the Independent Film Society of Colorado offered a showing at the Lon Chaney Theater in downtown Colorado Springs. I'd never been to the Lon Chaney, and I loved its ambiance. Built in 1923, it's attached to the City Auditorium and was named for the silent screen star. It's a small venue, holds about 200 at most. The seats (pictured above) look comfortable, but they're basically fabric-covered wood. There's definitely an historic air about the place, and this showing of Ink, a modern-day fairy tale, was perfect at this venue.

Immediately following the film, there was a Q&A session with the director, the writer and two actors. Films aren't often made in Colorado (apparently the tax incentives here are miserable), so it was a pleasure to be able to interact with a local cast and crew.

Ink is going on the road. It's worth a viewing if you get a chance. Learn more at Double Edge Films.

Then last night, I attended a concert at Colorado College. Every year the school hosts a few performers in conjunction with our local library district's World Music Series. Yesterday's show was with Vieux Farka Touré, son of Malian guitarist Ali Farka Touré. Vieux plays the music of a contemporary Africa, combining blues, funk and Afro-pop.

Bottom line, he and his band were amazing. I don't really know what else to say; rather, I encourage you to check him out here. And keep an eye out for the World Music Series. Every show we've seen through it (all free) has been memorable.

Oh, and if you're looking for something to do tomorrow night, join me at the Lon Cheney for Sita Sings the Blues.

Hey, why'd ya stop running?

This morning I participated in the 20th annual Alzheimer's Association of Colorado Springs 5K. My grandmother suffered from Alzheimer's, so the issue is very close to my heart.

With a genetic proclivity toward Alzheimer's, this could be me one day.

It scares the shit out of me.

So over the past few weeks I've been fundraising for the cause; thanks to six friends I hit my goal of $100. It's not a lot but as a former nonprofit fundraising professional, I know every little bit helps.

On a slightly different note, I walked/ran this 5K, and had a memorable incident while on the back half of the 5K. This summer, I began running. Usually, I manage a few blocks, my body starts complaining and I give up. For those of you familiar with the local Jack Quinn's Running Club, I've tried joining them on a few Tuesdays, but the pattern is often the same.

Just after I made the halfway point this morning, I turned my run back into a walk. It wasn't long before a man in navy shorts and a white T-shirt, much older than me, passed me. He slowed a bit as he looked back and said, "Hey, why'd ya stop running?" I gave a noncommital grunt of sorts. He turned away and kept going.

As I walked along, I thought, "Hey, why DID I stop running?" Here's the rest of my thought pattern:

It's hot.

But it's hot whether I'm walking or running.

My knee hurts.

Not that much.

I'm tired.

Suck it up.

And so, with this dude about 20 or 30 paces in front me, I began to run again. And run. And run.

I ran the rest of the route. All the way back to the finish line. As I passed beneath the Memory Walk sign, a lone woman cheered for me. I smiled at her just before I crunched forward to ease the pain in my side.

I was tired, but I made it. I did it.

May you overcome the next challenge you face. And may the Alzheimer's Association meet the fundraising challenges that face them as well, so that a cure may be found.

Book news

Even though I was never able to finish The Poisonwood Bible, I'm a huge Barbara Kingsolver fan. I read today that she has a new novel coming out on Nov. 3, The Lacuna. You can read more here: The Lacuna

It'll be nice to have her get back to fiction; while I enjoyed the typical Kingsolver language in her most recent, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, I found the content less than enthralling because so many books have come out over the past few years on a similar topic.

Love fall, thanks to all the new book releases (and tea and scones). What upcoming titles are you all looking forward to?

Time to Scrabble

 I love Scrabble. And I love clothes. This cracks me up.

"Well, this just really sucks"

I've been following Threadless since its inception and have purchased a few of the shirts. (I think some of you may even be owners of them now thanks to my clothes swaps.)

They give artists a great opportunity to show their stuff. The only complaint I have is that the women's shirts run SUPER small. As in, I usually buy XL from them and they're still quite snug. (I'm usually in a medium.)

Anyone want to play Scrabble?

Well, hello there

Welcome to my new blog.

I'm not making any promises other than to say I'll be sharing what's on my mind every now and then. I may talk knit-purl-knit. Or new novels. Or reality TV. Or Boston terriers. Or why it is that I've had two bad lemon bars in two days.

It's a place where I can empty my brain and you can, hopefully, be entertained, or touched, or so disgusted you just have to let me know.

Join me.

Best,
kake