Sitting here, with my mind on my lap

Because it has been blown to little bits by MUSIC. Of all things.

I repeat (because I've said it before): Mother Mother. Check. It. Out.

I don't care what kind of music you're normally into, I can't really see how it wouldn't appeal to anyone. Everyone. To me, it's like the New Pornographers got together with the Pixies, produced a band of love-children whose pop-producing talents transcend those of their forebears.

But its all about vocal harmonies and lots of acoustic instruments and stuff. I could totally see it reminding YOU of something else (something that you really like). Whatever. I don't know much music, but I know that Mother Mother is the best thing I've heard in like... ever.

Oh yeah - the day after I posted about this new, cool song I'd heard on the radio. Sweetie McPie came home with the CD in question (unsolicited!). No, you can't have him. But you can have Mother Mother. Go get some!

Filler project

After finishing my lovely Fuzzyfeet, I wanted to keep knitting so badly! But was at a loss as to what to start on. I'm dying to begin a sweater, but that requires research to find a pattern for an adventurous beginner (I'm adventurous simply because I dare call myself that!), and the right yarn, etc. I also wanted to make more Fuzzyfeet... but didn't have an opportunity to get the required yarn.

So, inspired by my FREEZING COLD OFFICE (we call facilities every day, to no avail. We are in a brand new made-to-our-specs building, but I think maybe they mixed us up with the San Jose office, because this place sure ain't built to protect us from the -30 degree weather.) Where was I?

Right -- wristwarmers, in progress:

They are a crazy red, I know that. My freezing cold workplace is reminiscent of my high school (oh so many years ago) which was not built to be a high school, and was incredibly drafty. We wore uniforms, which did not include warm sweaters, and any attempt to wear a contraband (yet warm) sweater was dealt with swiftly and harshly by the administration. Using an little-known loop-hole in the uniform rules, I constantly wore a scarf around school. It was red angora. I loved it. I was also a geek. But warm.

My wristwarmers offer a small homage to those days.

I taught myself a new stitch for these (adding a stitch purl-wise. Simple, but I didn't have to look it up, so feel like a genius). Tomorrow, I offer up my excuses for why I will like never finish this project...

Ear candy

Yesterday, I ranted about having to listen to Arcade Fire AGAIN on the CBC, and Trixie commented that "the CBC isn't exactly where I'd go to find the pulse of good music". That may be true, but! There is a silver lining to yesterday's instance of aural misery, which me gives a glimmer of hope that CBC won't leave me complete bereft of musical tidbits.

I'm not sure whether it was before or after the AF incident, but yesterday I also heard a gem of a song on Freestyle that I liked so much I made sure I jotted down the name of the band. I found a few more songs on their MySpace site, and they are just as fun. A great find, IMHO. (Unfortunately, I don't think I can buy an album anywhere around here yet.)

On the topic of fun music, The City Above invited a funky duo to join them in their show last week at Zaphod's. Auto Racing comprised a fella playing a 7 (!) string bass, and a drummer. The sound was unique, energetic, and totally engaging. Our heads were bobbing like crazy. The McPie confirms that the musicians were also very nice fellows.

[Edit: How's my use of "comprise"? Did I do it right?]

Downside of "Canadian content" rules

Apparently there's not enough content out there, because I keep hearing this damn Arcade Fire song. You know, the one with the children's choir, the Clash/Springsteen/Elvis Costello-channeling singer... Not a fan of Mr. Costello, I'm afraid. Or Arcade Fire.

There may be other downsides, I don't purport to know anything about the CRTC and Canadian content, but this is the issue on my radar now. Although probably I'd hear it all the time because Arcade fire is "just SO HOT right now" (thanks Marsha Lederman)... Of course, this assault to my poor little ears may be my fault after all for listening exclusively to CBC Radio One. Don't even get me started on Adrian Harewood, he of the less-than-zero bantering skills. I think he's in the "personalities" section of the CBC web site by accident.

(I know that I likely stand alone in this judgement - of AF... I'm pretty sure I know a few others who think Adrian is a dud), and also that someone sometime will make me listen to a whole AF album and I'll LIKE them after all. It won't be the first time that's happened. F me.)

Saga of the Enormous Socks

(Edit to note: This post should really be called "The saga of posting pictures on my blog.")

Fuzzyfeet are the perfect project for a beginner knitter looking for a bit of adventure. You get to try (if you haven't already): knitting in the round on circular and double-pointed needles, turning a heel, picking up stitches, AND felting. You get to do all that using enormous needles, and it doesn't matter if you make a mistake or two, or if the gauge is wacky, because that all comes out in the wash. Literally.

For posterity, I shall record that I knit my first pair of Fuzzyfeet in Alafoss Lopi (Red Earth), which smells like animal, and even has bits of straw in it, for that authentic experience. I used 8mm double-points: I didn't realize that they'd be big enough for circs, and I didn't have any in that size, so I forged ahead while McPie looked on in awe of my mastery of the DPNs. I was skeptical about the heel instructions, but I followed along (sheeplike, you know), and it worked out. (Then I checked out the heel turn vid on knittinghelp.com, and the mystery was solved.)

Gauge-schmauge, the only size these babies needed to be was huge.

(Wine bottles are included for scale only. They do not - necessarily - indicate the effort required to knit the ENORMOUS SOCKS on double-pointed needles.)

I felted them using the bucket o' hot water and long-handled potato masher method. I have no idea whether this is an accepted method or not, but my coworker had felted her first fuzzyfeet into pint-sized gnome boots by chucking them wholesale into her washing machine, so despite the wonder of a front-loader, I was taking no chances.

I felted on Valentine's Day, while Sweetie McPie cheered me on from where he was washing the post-romantic-dinner dishes; I felted while he shouted encouragement from the basement where he did some laundry, and while he serenaded me on his drum kit... Yes, all of that, because I mashed the damned fuzzies for the better part of two hours.

But, voila! The feet fuzzed.










And also, they fit.

Mardi Gras mix-up

Since childhood, I've enjoyed the yearly event that is the harbinger of Lent, which of course, leads to Easter: Pancake Tuesday. For a long time, I had no idea that those two names signaled the same day. Not everyone has heard of Pancake Tuesday, but most people have heard of Mardi Gras. Probably because the traditional way of celebrating Mardi Gras is way cooler than simply eating pancakes for dinner. (Even when we splurged and got real maple syrup...)

Notably, the pancake tradition originated in Britain; not typically known for exuberant celebrations.

As English-y post-colonials now living in Quebec, we're treating ourselves tonight to a combo cultural experience that blends the stodge of our ancestors with the sybaritic traditions of our neighbours' ancestors: we're having crêpes. Asparagus, with ham and cheese and creamy sauce.

But wait! (you say) Today isn't Fat Tuesday! You are right. It's not until next week. I wasn't trying to get a headstart on Lent. I discovered our Mardi Gras mix-up while researching for this very blog post!

When I told him of our mis-planning, McPie said: "Never trust my Mother. She said 'Second Tuesday in February.'"

To which I replied: "It’s the day before Ash Wednesday, which is forty days before Easter. Any good Catholic could tell you THAT! I followed your pronouncement of Pancake Tuesday like a sheep. A good Catholic sheep." I always let him do the math.

However, we won't apologize for screwing up the date. Turns out that figuring it out is a bit complicated for everyone. And we're still having crêpes for supper.

I'm going to suggest that for next week, for the REAL Pancake Tuesday when we'll be eating with the kids we steal another tradition. Unsurprisingly, Newfoundlanders have made the stodgy Brit custom a little more fun:

In the Canadian province of Newfoundland, household objects are baked into the pancakes and served to family members. Rings, thimbles, thread, coins, and other objects all have meanings associated with them. The lucky one to find coins in their pancake will be rich, the finder of the ring will be the first married, and the finder of the thimble will be a seamstress or tailor. Children have great fun with the tradition, and often eat more than their fill of pancakes in search of a desired object. (Also from Wikipedia)

Not exactly Carnival, but it's better than JUST maple syrup.

Plugging McPie

From ChartAttack.com:

I'll give you the scoop, so you don't have to scroll down through half the article:

The City Above have released their debut album, just over a year after Steve Fouchard and Ross Henwood "reunited in the fall of 2005 and overcame initial awkwardness by writing songs," as the pair explain in a joint email.

"We played music together in high school, and in university suffered a critical communication breakdown and lost touch."

It's a good thing that music brought the friendship back together, because the resulting album, Mongrel Comets, is a little gem of woozy rock, guitars that shimmer, tastes of shoegaze and even a hint of early Yo La Tengo. It's a fresh sound among the current crop of bands in Ottawa, one that the group calls "heavy mellow."

"The album itself was a bit of a happy accident because the initial idea was recording songs for fun," say Fouchard and Henwood, "One thing to listen for is the studio sounds. We leave them in."

Now that The City Above are a full band — including keyboardist Sheilah Craven, drummer Ken MacLean and bassist Paul Williamson — they've been venturing into Ottawa clubs. Your next chance to see them live is this Saturday at Irene's Pub, opening for Les Allumettes and Books On Books."

Next show is February 15 at Zaphod's, They're "headlining", which means they're playing very late, but I get free dinner for being the sole groupie (other that Sheilah's parents...)

Abolition of Should

What a loaded word, "should". It connotes stress (I should do this...), guilt or regret (I should have done that), and judgement (you should do this, should have done that). It dissociates ability from responsibility. I am still responsible, but I am not able.

I wonder how much the way we throw around language like this forms the way we think and act (or vice versa). Would I feel less stressed about how busy my upcoming week is looking, or less guilty about all the things I didn't get accomplished on the weekend, if I didn't give myself the responsibility without building in the ability to do those things - with the simple statement "I should"? You could say the same about ideas: "I shouldn't feel this way about her." Wouldn't it be better to actually banish the thought, or give permission to have the thought... rather than feeling regretful about something you can't (or can't seem to) change?

We have recently banned the word from our house. (Kids not included; this is an adult abstraction!) It's an attempt to organize our lives AND minds. To get organized, prioritized.

For example, we're trying to avoid saying "I should go for a run on Sunday". Make a decision already! Am I going to or not? Do it, or don't even plan to do it, or I'll end up disappointed (I should have...)

Possibly, if we don't allow ourselves to say it, we'll stop thinking that way. If I can, I will; if I can't, I won't. Seems so simple...

Lesson learned

One thing I'm learning to not take for granted is the logic of an adult as superior to that of a child. Especially if you are spewing forth your adult logic while doing three other things, such as feeding the cat, cooking supper, and dodging your mate, who chosen suppertime to re-organize the pantry.

We've been trying (by "trying", I mean "thinking about") to get Constance off of food that exacerbates her eczema, such as dairy products, eggs, etc. Sunday morning, we narrowly avoided a fight by convincing her that a bacon sandwich would make a yummy breakfast without having to eat eggs. (McPie served up a bacon and CHEESE sandwich... sort of defeats the purpose, but at least we tried.)

Later in the day, while I was feeding the cat, cooking supper, and dodging my mate, who had chosen suppertime to re-organize the pantry, Constance wondered why she's not supposed to have eggs. Although her parents had always given her rice or soy milk, the no eggs idea was a new one (based on meticulous Google research, of course.)

I patiently explained that since eggs and milk all came from the same place, they all contained the same type of proteins that made her eczema worse.

To which she gamely replied: "Well, I eat eggs all the time and they really don't irritate my skin, and besides..." She looked at me a little strangely, "Cow's don't lay eggs."

Either I've been bullshitting for so long that I can't decipher my famed faux facts from reality, or I've been living the urban life too long: I was actually surprised when she pointed that out. Because as I was telling her about the protein, I was totally picturing a cow laying an egg, and it didn't seem illogical at all.

Birth of a blog

I've decided to upgrade from online journal to "blog". For now, just 'cuz. Maybe one day I'll, like, customize or something. Meanwhile, this might be a little prettier than LiveJournal. Or easier to navigate? Something.

I just needed a change, since I've been on a bit of a posting roll. My first post is my profile. Those things are hard to write! I think it should be a blog policy or something to have to get someone else to do it for you.