Yay! Yay! Yay!
Three cheers for:
1. Getting out of the heat
2. Having nothing to do for the next six days but run, shop, knit and watch sports.
3. Escaping my broken air conditioner. See #1.
Here is to celebrating our laboring!
Catch you in a few days,
AK
A quick post to say I’m thinking of all the families affected by Katrina’s wrath. My dad lived in Louisiana as a boy and my grandparents still have many friends there. My grandfather is a proud LSU alum who assured me yesterday that someone surely thought to save Mike the tiger.
My grandmother told me one of her friend’s daughters was getting read to leave her home in New Orleans when she realized her next door neighbors didn’t have a car or a way to get out in time. They did the seemingly unthinkable and gave the neighbors their other car. The pair had no idea where they would go or when they would be home. It didn’t matter. They parted waving and wishing each other the best until their paths cross again.
It is amazing how we can band together when we need to.
~AK
I will be the first to admit I am completely spoiled when it comes to vacation. Between work and play, I’ve visited seven countries in the last year. My domestic travel plans often include friend’s weddings. (It’s the age, my mom says.)
This weekend was the Steere/Stein fest in
Del Mar, Calif. We had such a great time. The wedding was beautiful! The bridesmaid dresses were a soft salmon pink; they carried elegant bouquets of orchids. The bride wore a stunning halter-style white dress with a long, flowing veil. She entered the seaside park Sarah McLachlan’s “Push” that was just perfect and the wedded pair exited to this guy’s fantastic cover of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” I love wedding music.
Then they served filet.
If they’d didn’t have me hello, they had me at filet. I’m a sucker for a good steak and it was excellent. Beer was also had. They lived up their Steere and Stein reputations.
Photos from the weekend are posted here. Muchas gracias to my favorite wedding date, Ms. Slackdaddy. The girl knows how to boogie.
This week, Boston. (No wedding, just Red Sox involved.) Yahooo!
~AK
Did I forget to mention they gave everyone shoes? So fun!
Can you smell that? It’s salt in the air. It’s fresh bread baking at the boardwalk cafe. It’s coffee and tea brewing and icy cold Diet Coke being poured into a cobalt blue glass. Palm trees are swaying in the breeze. Coconut scented sunscreen being slathered on bellies and noses. Brightly striped beach towels rolling out on warm, sparkling sand.
That’s right folks, it’s Cali time!
I’m off to Del Mar for the weekend with a girlfriend to attend a beach side wedding. Saturday and Sunday are reserved for nothing more than swimming, working on a golden tan, ordering fruity drinks with umbrellas and relaxing. When we get sick of the Pacific, we’re heading inland to vintage clothing shops for dress forms and patterns and beautiful fabric.
You didn’t think I was kidding about packing the bikini’s on a whim, did you?
Yes, I realize I’m Type A. Yes, I started packing two days before the trip and Mapquested each location. Yes, the car has been tuned, washed and filled with gas. Yes, I am a touch excited for this mini vacay on the coast.
Catch you on the flip side Cats,
Kelli
P.S. I am SO excited about the new knitting book I broke down and bought on Amazon this week: Last-Minute Knitted Gifts. (Such a misnomer, by the way, for anyone who hasn’t been knitting for 20 years.) I’ve had my eye on it for a while and it has some great patterns including stuffed elephants for kids. How can I be “Auntie Kelli the African Traveler” if my little friends don’t receive stuffed elephants for Christmas? I mean really, shouldn’t this cutie have an elephant in his hands instead?
The post that goes many directions, twirling around like a star falling out of a full moon sky…
As my friend Amanda says, people act strangely during the full moon. I so agree. It has been one of those weeks for me too. I’ve been snippy. My roommate and her beau argued over pizza last night to the point of slamming doors and dramatic exits. “Christians” are calling for assassinations. (Um, no. I’m pretty sure Jesus never said “Kill the guy you don’t agree with.”) And doctors are being fined for calling obese patients fat. (Hello. This is a wake up call. If he is a doctor and you are obese, consider it advice, not taunting.)
Loopy loopy loo… (an homage to the penguin commercials)
On the other hand, I’ve received a couple nice shout outs, which make me happy. Ari received her African Knits thank you gift. And Shannon received her backtack angel gift.
To know me is to know that I love giving gifts. And writing cards. And telling people often how much I love them and why. I’m not sure why this is part of my character — perhaps an extra dose of hormones in the womb — but I really enjoy making others smile.
It has been said I am not so good being on the other end of this situation. It’s true. Granted, I don’t turn down being told I’m loved, but I absolutely hate opening a gift in front of the giver. Something I need to work on is not giving gifts to the point of making a person uncomfortable, which I have inadvertently done before. And becoming more gracious about receiving gifts in general. I am really not so good at this last one.
I once dated a person in college who showered me with expensive gifts. Trips, cameras, expensive clothing, jewelry — you name it. At the time I didn’t realize these were manipulative moves, but as soon as the relationship changed, they became immediately clear. Since, I have been really bad about being willing to have whomever I am dating pay for things. This often creates a predicament because I work in social services and haven’t ever had the budgets of the men I’ve loved. When they want to whisk off to Europe or Caribbean for the week, I am so game. Watch-out, I’m-packing-bikinis-and-film-so-we-can-leave-right-this-moment, kind of game. But I also bring my pocketbook and try stubbornly to pay for as much of the adventure as I can. Then I get home and grimace at the bills.
Sometimes men just want to take care of the women they love and it’s nothing more. But it is a Catch 22 — they want you independent, and yet willing to let them take care of you. I’m just not so good at that last part. But I’m working on it.
Thank goodness we’ve got a bit until another full moon.
Loopy loopy loo…
I was sitting at my desk reading a journal for work about grassroots development in
Latin America when I came across an article on Manos del Uruguay that caught my attention. I recently purchased two skeins of Manos del Uruguay yarn at Jessica’s Knits. They are variegated and absolutely beautiful. I spent a small fortune on them and have them stashed away for a special project.
I am even more in love with this yarn after reading about how it started as a co-op of independent women in rural Uruguay. They saw the need for quality yarn and sold some of their creations at 10 times the cost without a problem. Soon enough, foreigners were taking the yarn and designs back to Europe and the U.S. A Manos poncho was on the cover of Elle Magazine in the 1980s.
The author writes, “Everyone was delighted to have an income from products made with their own hands, but they also lived through important changes They were going against the wind and the tide. It doesn’t seem so long ago but you have to consider the times. Women didn’t have their own income; it was the husband who brought money home. This work took women outside of the house and they functioned autonomously. Additionally, they really learned to participate in meetings, to manage money, to make decisions, to organize orders, deliveries and storage, to handle all the requirements of the cooperative they were forming and to assume ownership of it. They grew as people, discovering abilities they never knew they had. It was a revolution.”
Today the company makes yarn for J.Crew, Banana Republic, etc and pulls in a couple million a year. Women are teaching their daughters and sons to knit so their creations can be sent to New York fashion houses for display. Small farming and enterprising families in Uruguay are feeling financial stability.
This may just be my favorite yarn.
Yeee-ow! I am on fire today. Ever have those days when you wake up and you bound out of bed? They happen rarely in my world, but this morning was one of those lucky days. It is only 8 am and I’ve run 6 miles, cleaned my room, had breakfast, added the final addresses to those baby shower invites and gotten caught up on my email.
Today, I can feel it in my bones, is going to be a good day.
This weekend, the Great Quilter and I spent a good bit of time at our
Mecca and then in her sewing room. Last week a friend suggested I consider investing in a serger. I didn’t even know what it was. She sent me more information and got my interest. I asked my mom and she pointed to a brand new machine sitting in the corner of her dreamy craft room. A serger. That she’d essentially never used. She once taught quilting classes at a fancy shop and got a discount on sewing machines. I think she spent 1000% more than she earned in that shop. (And why my father tends to roll his eyes and clutch his pocketbook when my mom talks about getting a “side job.”) Looks like I might get to use a serger yet.
We finished my first entry to the Tie One On craftblog, figured out how to knit in the round on double pointed needles (really, we figured, you should just find a teeny tiny circular needle because my God is this difficult), worked on my sewing by pattern project, (not so difficult when you take the time to read the instructions), and we cooked.
By “we cooked” I mean, I salivated and my mom threw ingredients together to make a fantastic meal. I swear she makes this domestateering look pretty darn easy most days, when any fool knows it isn’t.
She made one of my top five favorite recipes: meat loaf. I know, I know. How gross. Actually, no. She use Hatch chiles for a middle layer packs a punch and thick tomato sauce on top. It is simply heavenly.
I’ve always loved her meat loaf. So much so, when I was away at college, my dad knew I was coming home for the weekend when he saw the ingredients out on the counter the day before. It’s one of those many things I’ve never bothered trying to make myself, because really, why bother? She does it so well and I thankfully live so close.
Even better the next day for lunch. Yum.
To work. Got to use this energy for good before it wanes.
Cheers,
AfricanKelli
I’ve been working on August and September birthday gifts for girlfriends who knit.
(If you find yourself in this category, SPOILER ALERT. Your gift may be shown below.)
For a girlfriend who loves everything pink. This is my first time attempting applique in several years.
Cute little bugs.
Tied up and ready to be wrapped. I love that ribbon. I figured out this time around that 1/2 a yard of each fabric and 1/2 a yard of ribbon is the perfect amount for a knitting roll.
These rolls finished up the hands African print fabric. I’m looking forward to giving these gifts.
This weekend’s craft projects include:
Invites for a friend’s baby shower I’m helping with
Learning to sew by pattern
Fixing the handles I stitched together incorrectly on another birthday gift
Making my first attempt at embroidery
I splurged and purchased the latest copy of Real Simple and MSL this month. I have fully admitted to myself that I love magazines. I love the glossy pages, the beautiful layouts, the concise writing, the photographs and the ideas. I’ve got these two and the latest Shape and Organic Living waiting for me on the couch when I get home tonight. Pair those with my friend Hornsby and good Friday night will be had by all.
(Yes, I’m reveling in my crafting dorkiness.)
~AK
This is
Carolyn Parkhurst’s first novel and I loved it.
Four out of five bananas.
It isn’t life altering. It isn’t deep. But it is fun, lighthearted and creative.
A man’s wife dies mysteriously, so he turns his energy toward getting the one witness to her death to provide any details possible. That witness is Lorelei, the family’s Rhodesian Ridgeback. The man is a linguistics professor who turns his work into getting the dog to speak. It is a funny, sweet and sad story about the mourning for his wife and the love for their pet.
Here Parkhurst aptly describes fighting depression:
“You don’t want to get out of bed, but you don’t want to to run into that cliché, you know danger lies that way. So you get up and you try to find pleasure in the little things, the first cup of coffee in a mug you like, the mint-burst in your mouth when you brush your teeth, but you can tell you’re trying too hard. You have breakfast with your husband, your sweet unknowing husband, who can’t see anything but the promise of a bright new day. And you say your apologies — you’re sorry, you’re always sorry, it’s a feeling as familiar as the taste of water on your tongue — and you kiss him on the lips as he walks out the door, and he’s gone.”
I think dog lovers in particular would enjoy this read.
I’m up to my eyeballs in work and writing and crafting and I keep forgetting to take photos of what I’m doing. I’ve cursed myself by diving in the deep end of “the book writing” (soon to be known as “the book finishing”) efforts and nearly everything else has been put aside in the meantime.
Even my home is dirty.
For those of you who know me, you are probably rolling your eyes and wondering how bad it could be. Well, I can guarantee you, it ain’t pretty. A dust bunny up and hopped across the room this morning nearly scaring the living anal retentiveness out of me.
If I had the time to continue my habit of excessive blogging, I would surely comment on the Nature article this week discussing introducing African elephants and lions to the American mid-west in an attempt to save the species.
On one hand, intriguing.
On the other, tatanka. Ta-Tan-Ka. We killed off our own giant mammals. Now we want to import others? Because “Africans aren’t doing such a good job maintaining the environment.” Right. This from a country whose energy policy = tax break for oil companies. Let’s start lecturing the Africans about environmental issues.
Something tells me Dumbo wouldn’t do so well in his first Iowa snow storm.
And I would also comment on the fact that it cost me $31 to fill up my car this morning with gas. My car. My iddy biddy really fuel efficient car. Bush, you are SO on my shit list. I’ve printed the bus schedule and am adding an hour to my commute next week by trying to reduce my dependence on this natural resource. And save some dough. And have time to knit instead of scream at people on the highway. This is a good idea for many reasons.
Finally, I would tell the paparrazi to leave Sienna Miller alone. Just bug off. The girl needs some space to figure things out for herself without your telephoto lens all up in her grill.
If I had thought to take photos, (you knew I’d get back to my point eventually) I would show you the amazing bright purple sage bushes all over Phoenix that have suddenly come into bloom. They are beautiful and I’ve never seen them out in such brilliance. Must have something to do with the excessive rain we’ve had lately.
Back to the book. Six chapters to go.
Cheers,
Kelli
