Knit Two Together

Happy Easter

At it's heart, separate from centuries of religious tradition, Easter, is a celebration of hope. Spring brings with it a blossoming of new life, and every blade of green grass or newborn creature is evidence of the overwhelming resilience of life. 

For myself, my family, my friends, and you, I wish you life and hope. Go forward with compassion and understanding, share your blessings generously, and knit your world together with love.

It isn't easy being green...

What follows is an essay I wrote this past weekend. It's completely off topic for this blog, nothing whatsoever to do with knitting, knitters, fibre arts or craft. It does, I believe, have relevance to every person who may happen upon this blog at any point in time. You see, we all hurt, at some point in our lives, we all hurt to the point of utter devastation. Each of us has said or done something to someone else, however unintentional, that caused them embarassment, shame, humiliation or sadness. Each of us has also been on the receiving end of that sort of action. I would appreciate your time, and kindly expressed thoughts should you wish to share them. Knitting content will resume next time. Thank you.

 

It isn’t easy being green…

 

Recently I was told that a student of mine, from only 5 years or so ago, killed himself. By now he should have finished high school, and been nearing the end of his first year of design school in Vancouver. I worked with this young man when he was in junior high school, all three years. He was a kid like lots of others. Athletic, good-looking, friends with lots of girls but accepted by the boys because of his sports skills. He struggled in school, battling a learning disability that made every day a chore. He was talented though, really talented. That kid could draw! I used to wonder if he’d be an artist, and hope that he would end up in some creative field that would let his talents shine. Design school would have been perfect.

 

I knew he was gay, perhaps before he did. It wasn’t something I ever spoke to him about. I just knew and did my best to accept and encourage him. He wasn’t the first boy I’ve watched go through that journey of self-discovery in my classroom. As it happened, there were two that year and there have been many others.

 

Sometimes it works out that a young man is so secure in himself, so resilient, so well supported, and so accepted within his family and by close friends that it doesn’t occur to him to hide who he is in the first place. That is a very rare individual indeed. The world is his for the taking, just as it should be.

 

The thing is, developing awareness of one’s sexuality is the same for everyone – homosexual or heterosexual. It is true that in so many places one is acceptable, and the other is not. Despite the growing trend of lesbianism among under 30’s, North America in general, and Calgary in particular, remains a bastion of intolerance and bigotry. Stereotypes abound, and are reinforced by mass media. Special interest groups, particularly the alphabet soup groups (LGBTQ, lesbian gay bisexual transgendered queer), contribute in their own way to intolerance and misinformation by mixing sexual orientation with gender divergence and by promoting their agenda which inevitably excludes the moderate majority. The inclusion, by some groups, of the term “queer” has got to be the most ironic example of self-directed bigotry I’ve seen. Calling someone “queer” should get you punched in the mouth just as surely as using the “N” word should. It’s pejorative and I haven’t a clue why some members of that community choose to embrace it. Perhaps it’s a case of “if you can’t beat them, join them” and “F” for “fag” will be the next letter added to the alphabet soup of non-heterosexual descriptors.

 

I don’t understand the choice to die. Even when I found myself at the bottom of a very deep, very dark pit of despair armed with nothing by self-flagellation and surrounded by grief I wanted to sleep, not die. I wanted to sleep until the sun came back out, but I still wanted to see the sun.

 

As a girl, growing up in Calgary, I thought I knew what it was like to be bullied. I was smarter than the vast majority of my peers. I was successful in school; I could read, write, and spell, even if math was my mortal enemy at that time. Teachers loved me. I was a sponge and always willing/desperate to please. On the other hand, I was socially awkward, had no athletic skill whatsoever, and I was fat. I knew I was fat. My father promised regularly to take me shopping at Calgary Tent and Awning. He thought it was a joke, but it always sounded like “you’re too fat and unacceptable to even deserve real clothes, and if it wasn’t for your mother, you wouldn’t get them.” Kids are like vultures: they sense the dying inside. So are lots of adults.

 

All of us, every single one, has played a role in picking on someone, making them feel small, wanting to put someone in their place and keep them there. We have been bullies, victims and bystanders by turn throughout our lives. It’s enshrined in our culture from the jokes we read and repeat, to the way our industrialized educational system is structured, and the resulting systematic marginalization of people who fall outside the norm. It is so pervasive that most people have no idea it even exists. The vast majority of people are so connected, so plugged into the matrix that freedom of choice is merely a concept not a reality. The vast majority will happily stay plugged in and will live their lives under the illusion that they’ve been in control when the reality is that they have been used, from birth to death, by mass media and the priorities of our industrialized economy. Neither of those places actually wants anyone to have real freedom of choice. Their ability to sell us whatever they tell us we want is what drives the economy. We have given up our individuality, if we had it in the first place, and conform to consume. Those that don’t are punished.

 

I was bullied as an individual by other individuals. Despite the pain I endured, it was limited in scope. Truthfully, I did more damage to myself by continuing to repeat and embellish the lies started by others than the bullies ever did. Comparing my experience to the daily torture inflicted on someone who is trying to live an authentic, self-directed life is nonsense. A gang of little girls called me names. That young gay man, whom I knew as a sensitive, artistic, talented and hopeful adolescent, was systematically tortured on a daily basis by the society surrounding him. For him, there were no safe places to go, no relief from the snide comments, sniggering, dirty looks and outright gay-bashing. For him, there was no hope for sunshine. I don’t want to understand his choice to die, because it makes me so ashamed of my existence as part of the society that left him no viable choice.

 

Every day I know the person closest to me struggles to get dressed in the morning and to go out into the world. He is an intelligent, athletic, handsome, middle-aged, professional man who is very well respected in his field. He is also gender divergent. The challenge is to find a way to be authentic, while still conforming enough to the expectations of society to make himself acceptable and draw the least possible amount of attention.  He is always well within the bounds of decency, more so than many of the young men and women I see in the mall displaying acres of breast or wearing their jeans belted around their thighs. He also isn’t pretending to be something or someone he isn’t. He is a man, without pretense otherwise, who happens to wear the clothing that the marketing establishment decided only women should wear as he goes about his daily business. Most days he wears a pair of flattering slacks, a button down shirt over a t-shirt, and a cardigan. On the surface there is absolutely nothing to distinguish him from any other man in that office. That is, until someone looks a little closer. Close enough to notice that the fabric and cut of his trousers are different, or to see that the buttons on his shirt do up the other way, or to notice the curve of breast filling in the line of his sweater. At work there are strictly enforced rules of conduct that protect him from ridicule. It helps that he is so very good at what he does that everyone at his level and up are more than willing not to notice anything different. As long as he toes the line closely enough, he’s reasonably safe from obvious ridicule.

 

Out in public is a completely different experience. There, the response from society is to do a double take, point fingers, laugh and say something nasty just loud enough for him to hear. I have seen people shush their children, turn around for a better look, and actually burst into laughter. I have stared down more than one rude person, almost daring them to say out loud what they’re laughing at so that I can expose their bigotry to the light of day. That would make a scene though, and attract even more attention, and ultimately result in even more rolling eyes, clucking tongues and running commentary.

 

It isn’t easy being green… being different… being on the outside. The choice is to give up oneself and fit in by pretending to be like everyone else (which feels like dying), or accept oneself and know that our culture is incapable of including someone who lives outside the norm (which feels dark and utterly hopeless). It’s the same unbearable choice that led to my student’s death, and many others like him. It’s the daily experience of someone I love. His words pushed me to write today, and I hope they will push you to act with compassion from now on.

 

“Our society is so rigidly intolerant of anybody who dare not fit the social norms mass media promotes, that people do desperate things because there is no escape from it. I can relate to daily ridicule, disdain and downright mean people who somehow feel better about themselves by ruining someone's life. They think nothing of a rude comment or hurtful stare, but people who are on the receiving end of that everyday get that from literally 1,000's of people over time and no longer see any light or hope in this world.... Only crushed dreams, hurt, and hopelessness. The next time any of you reading this feel the need to point, stare, laugh, or otherwise mock someone because they're different than you.... Just DON'T, those people are likely just trying to get through their day without being made to feel ashamed and worthless.”

 

“If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion” The Dalai Lama

 

 

Hey Seattle! Shopping tips wanted!

After a work week that held way more work than week, I'm ready for a weekend OFF. It's been a while since I spent some self-indulgent time with myself and my knitting. That red sweater isn't knitting itself at all!

 

Next week I'm off to a math teacher's conference in Seattle. I'm not sure exactly how or when I became a math teacher. It doesn't really matter though. I teach students how to work through the process of mathematical thinking. It's not so different from teaching students how to work through the process of writing, or reading, or organization, or note-taking, or social skills, or relationships. 

At any rate - the purpose of this post is just to say that I'm going to be in Seattle next week and I have all day Friday, but only that day, completely free. I'm going with a colleague who is excited about shopping and we do have a rental car for that day. Our hotel is only a few blocks from Pike Place Market, so we think we'll explore a bit of that in the first couple of evenings. 

Where is the "best" shopping, in reasonable proximity to downtown Seattle, keeping in mind that we have to get to the airport after dinner? Best means good prices for good quality, reasonable selection. Outlet malls hold certain appeal, but so would a regular mall with a range of stores and a good department store.

Anyone have a favourite, do not miss this, yarn shop??

Have you got a cool tip for Pike Place?

I have a craving for OCEAN. Does anyone know a place, with a view, that we could go for lunch or dinner?

Please leave a comment, or use the "Email Me" link and let me know where you think I should go!! (yes, I get it. Be nice.)

 

 

 

The Stories I tell Myself

Today marks a full year since a judge signed the court order that ended my marriage. The actual marriage ended a very long time before that. I think that's usually true, whether people realize it or not. 

There was a day in late 2009 that I realized there was nothing to be gained by continuing to try to salvage a relationship from the devastation. I had cried so much before that day, and I had no idea how much more I would cry in the next two years, but on that day I was dry-eyed and quiet. I had simply let go. I was at peace with my choice, regretful of the impact it would have on my children, but there was nothing left to be done other than let it go. I have not had a single moment of regret about the decision to let go of that marriage.  

What followed that day has been devastating, euphoric and everything in between. I've been on a journey of self-discovery. When my counselor looked at me and told me that I had more tears to cry than I could imagine, I honestly didn't believe him. I thought I had cried them all. He was right though. There was so much more to grieve than I had allowed myself to be aware of. In some ways it's been two years of re-lived heartache followed by seemingly endless hours of grief.

Each experience, as horrible as it might have been to re-live, allowed me to move toward wholeness. I chose to unplug myself from the matrix, from my former life of carefully constructed un-reality, and instead to live honestly. It's not easy. I've learned that I am much more brave than I ever thought I could be. I trust myself, and choose to have in my life only those who are also honest. I am on a path of integration and connection. It requires me to recognize the lies I've told myself, sometimes for as long as I can remember, to find the origin of the lie and grieve that if need be, and then to replace the lie with a new understanding of truth. Most of the time I absolutely do not want to go there because I know it's going to hurt. I do though, because having taken the red pill I can't go back and the way forward, however painful, is the only route available.

The whole process is about changing the stories I tell myself. That is the key, the point, the problem and the solution. 

Who you are, who you believe yourself to be, is the direct result of the stories you tell yourself about yourself.

It's the stories you tell yourself about yourself....

The only limits are self-imposed...

Self-esteem comes from our interpretation of the reactions of others to our actions....

Self-centredness is necessary for survival....

It's the stories I tell myself about myself.....

 

Past and Present Knitting

 

Livingstone Cardigan as it currently sits. The left front is about an hour away from complete. The fronts seem narrow but remember that this pattern has a wide shawl/portrait collar knit separately and then sewn on which will provide whatever width is necessary on the fronts. I've noticed several knitters on Ravelry have chosen to pick up stitches around the front rather than knit the ribbing separately and then sew it on. That idea appeals to me more than trying to mattress stitch all the way up around and down. So far the only modification is to the length of the body, where I've added 2", not because I'm so tall, but because I like sweaters to hit me at the hip, not above that line. It's more flattering to my curves. 

Recently I was clicking around Ravelry and it occured to me to wonder what, if anything, was happening there that involved my patterns. As you can see on the sidebar, I have three free patterns available. They've all been there for quite a while. I made them all to suit my own purposes but having done so, thought I'd share them openly.

 The first pattern I published was "Africa's Socks", it was also the first pattern I had ever written and I did it at a time when I was still a novice sock knitter. A couple of times a month I get an email from a knitter who has chosen Africa's Socks, often as their first pair, and who needs a little bit of help. I'm very happy to reply, and do my best to "talk" them through whatever their snag happens to be. I neglected to measure the gauge of the original socks in my hurry to give them to the recipient, so the pattern does not give guage. At the time, I really thought nothing of it. In my limited experience, all sock yarn was similar and to that point in time I had knit every single sock on the same set of 3mm dpns.  I was a little taken aback by some criticism of my pattern that I read on Ravelry. The writer said that she would never consider using a pattern that didn't give gauge, and the tone of her posts left me feeling quite put in my place. Regardless of her apparent negative attitude towards the pattern (and therefore it's designer) she had a valid point. Gauge can and often does, have a profound effect on the finished product. In response, I am going to knit another pair of socks with this pattern, make some changes in response to the sorts of questions that people email me about, and measure the gauge for inclusion on the pattern. Look for an update after I finish Livingstone. 

The third pattern available is called "Cider Moon Sockapalooza 4 Socks". It's not looking that popular on Ravelry, but I'm not going to take it down. I may change the name as Cider Moon is no longer in business and any sort of sport weight yarn will work just as well for this pattern. I think it's a pretty sock, and a quick knit and would love to see more people give it a try.

In between sock patterns, I wrote a little pattern for a winter hat. I used (with permission and credit given) the skull chart from Hello Yarn's "There Be Pirate's" hat, which is fantastic but had too much pattern for my liking. My "Skull Hat" has a double layer over the ears, which serves to cover the floats from the single band of skulls set off by two simple fair aisle bands. I was so thrilled to see that there are well over 600 projects on Ravelry using my hat pattern. People have been so creative with it as well - all sorts of different colour patterns, changes to the crown shaping, including a terrific "elf skull" modification. Thank you for your enthusiasm, and your kind words about that pattern. It's your positive response that makes me want to re-write Africa's socks. 

Happy knitting :)

Too much working, not enough knitting.

I'm still knitting on my Livingstone cardigan, but progress is painfully slow. I've only done about half of the right front. It's not that it's hard (really quite easy actually, and the rows are short), but I just don't seem to sit and knit very much. 

Some colleagues and I have been invited to present at a conference Feb 13 and 14. It's a significant invitation on several levels. The conference is a provincial one, which will attract people from all over Alberta. The invitation came from our area director. The Chief Superintendent of Schools for our school district will be introducing us (and we are the only presentation she is doing that for). There will be many eyes on us. It's a very exciting opportunity, but I'm starting to get nervous. We've all been working hard developing this presentation. I must have a couple of hundred hours into the development of an updated data collection system to collect and report on assessment results for the whole school (580 students, assessed with several tools, multiple times in the year). My partner has collected hours of video footage and still photos and used them to create 3 video clips. Another partner has collated all of our information, beliefs, videos, images and ideas into a themed and branded powerpoint presentation. And our fearless leader has had the unenviable task of keeping the enthusiasm and panic in balance, and of keeping us all moving forward with a coherent vision. The thing is, I could talk, by myself, for a half a day about this stuff. The four of us have a 50 minute hour. 

Yikes, work life has been pretty intense. No wonder I haven't made much progress on my sweater. It's Sunday today though, so I'm going to stop typing, and start knitting, and we'll see if I can finish this front anyway. 

 

 

Divorced. (blogjacking myself)

As time passes I've gained a new perspective on myself, my marriage, and my former "husband". There was a day, almost 4 years ago, when I made a discovery that forced me to ask myself a very hard question. "How is it possible," I wondered "for the man who says he loves me and calls me his wife to have told me this lie, and having told it, to continue to lie, deny, minimize, and avoid." It's a complicated answer which I don't believe I have fully discovered yet. As part of this process I've had to be brave, to recognize and face the fear and pain which have prevented me from discovering certain truths, to take the leap of faith that I will be okay, and to push myself forward. Sometimes I've needed to re-experience past trauma to learn a lesson. I needed to learn how to grieve, how to cry, and how to discover the peace which follows.  I needed to learn to see, and to know what I had seen. I have learned that survival meant the deliberate burial of my self and disconnecting from truth and emotion. Even the fact that I spent almost 20 years in ever deepening survival mode, and that I saw that as "normal" and believed I was "happy" has been a discovery.

With each step I've experienced an incremental nudge towards anger. It's an emotion which I rarely, if ever, experience anymore. I don't rant and rave over things. I don't yell at people, or flip the bird at bad drivers. Anger, like grief, requires a huge investment of energy. I find that even when I experience a flash of anger, I can't maintain it. In my view, anger isn't worth the effort. I don't see the pay-off. With one, very notable, exception. I am capable of sustained self-directed anger. It's like being completely blind on one side. I have become so adept at letting go of anger that I can no longer perceive that which is another person's responsibility; so dedicated to being non-judgemental that I will not hold another person to account for their behaviour even when it has resulted in profound harm to me. Clearly I need to remove those blinders and to learn to experience anger again. I am not looking forward to it. "Brave" means being scared, and going ahead anyway, and it's not fun at all.

Anyway....

While I've spent the last few weeks turned quite inward, I have managed this

So it is down to this, and it is down to this...

 I have a sock in progress.... but I can't remember what the pattern is. Progress is temporarily halted until I figure it out...again. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I made a spindle from a wooden toy wheel and a dowel. It's surprisingly good! Very lightweight with nice balance that's only improving as the cop grows. It was an experiment to see if I could make one that worked well enough for some of my grade 8 students to make their own and demonstrate drop spinning at the school's Rennaissance Fair.  Yoga Frog approves. 

 

I very much want to make a cardigan, using stash yarn because I really can't go anywhere and buy a sweater's worth of yarn. (Unless I wanted to knit with discounted craft store acrylic, and why would I do that when I have a bin of gorgeous wool to choose from?)

So... the choices are down to this    the Sienna Cardigan, from IK Fall 2006 and also available free via Knitting Daily. I like this one because I like the little shawl collar with the picot effect trim, and I like the fagotted lace border on the front. I get guage using stashed Elann Highland Wool bulky, in a gorgeous heathered rusty red, so this would be a reasonably quick knit resulting in a warm and cozy cardigan. 

And the choices are down to this   Cerisera, by Bonne Marie Burns, already purchased and printed. Light weight, so perfect for indoor use year round and as a warm weather cover up on chilly mornings. The style is very current, very wearable, and flattering on me. It's knit with dk weight at worsted guage, so possibly also a reasonable finish time, and Bonne Marie's patterns are so well written that I feel brave enough to do shaping in lace. I would make this out of stashed dk merino soft in a warm neutral grey/taupe. 

Have you knitted either of these cardigans? Care to weigh in with your opinion? Please!

 

(PS Dear Typepad: I really really really want to be able to click on an image and drag the corner to resize it in my post, so that I can see how it looks in the post.)

 

Awesome things

It's been a while since my last post, and since this is Thanksgiving weekend I thought it the perfect opportunity to think out loud about some of the wonderful things in my life today.

Recently Drew Dudley came to speak to the students at my school. You have to be saying something pretty darned good to keep 500 kids focused on you for an hour. Drew was talking about how each one of us has the potential to do amazing things, and encouraged everyone to stop and notice the awesome things around us. Drew, incidentally, is a good friend of Neil Pasricha, author of "The Book of Awesome" and "The Book of Even More Awesome".  Taking time to notice the little things can change your whole perspective on a day. Try it. Meanwhile, here is a link to Drew speaking at the TEDx conference in Toronto.

So.... Do you know what's awesome???

the Rocky Mountains, and that I live so close to such beauty...

  
 

 

happy offspring...

my fuzzy little buddy...

Saskatoon berries, especially when they're fresh picked from my own bushes...

My sister from another mister Kerri... and all that our friendship entails...

All my knit-sibs - whom I don't have pictures of but who live in my heart (and on my computer)...

Beryl.... Janice... Arsie... Charity... Mary deB... Marnie... 

All of the people that stop by my blog to look at a pattern or because Google has given them some weird link... especially the ones that leave a comment

Getting random email from readers/knitters with questions about a pattern

Watching adolescent boys try to figure out how a spinning wheel works...

Getting asked if I'll bring the spinning stuff back to school again...

New socks!

  

(Plain 64 stitch toe-up on 2 circulars, with turkish cast on, PGR heel and EZ sewn bind off.)

Yarn from Apple Laine "Apple Pie" fingering weight 50% wool, 20% mohair, 20% silk, 10% nylon in the brightest and happiest colourway I have ever purchased... Sunrise... 

Having last year's students, and their parents, seek me out to tell me they wish they could have been with me again this year...

Reading out loud...

Sitting in silence...

Sitting under a kid pile...

Laughter....

Knowing that I won't need back surgery and that I will be able to return to yoga soon

Being able to fit 15 big bags of returnable bottles and cans into my car, and still have room for #2 ...

When unpleasant things happen, knowing that I have someone to count on who will help me calm down, file a police report, fix the window, and never once said "I told you so" (even though he did). The caretaker who went ahead and vacuumed out my whole car to clean up the shattered glass is also an awesome human being.

 (It's also an awesome idea to lock your purse in the trunk before you leave so no one sees you put it there in the parking lot, and never leave it under the front seat even if you think it's out of sight. It only takes a few seconds to shatter a window and steal your stuff.) 

 

You know what's really truly awesome?  

Being a whole, true person; living each day in a way that reflects the woman I am; knowing myself - and accepting me; finally understanding that I am enough, and that I always have been.

The Never-ending Lost Socks are finally done!!

I started these socks over a year ago. Seriously. I know that my very first pair of socks didn't take this long!

 

Yarn: Cider Moon Icicle (fine fingering) in "LOST" colourway. It's worth noting that I likely have 1/3 of the skein left over - plenty for a pair of anklets or fingerless gloves.

Needles: Knitpicks 2mm circulars

Pattern: Basic top down 2x2 rib

(PS: My back is not good, but not beyond repair. Degenerative disc disease in L3/L4 and L5/S1, mild scoliosis related to the disc narrowing and facet joint osteoarthritis in most lumbar vertebrae and in the sacro-iliac joints on both sides. I will not be back in the gym for about 6 months, and it will likely be 3 months at least before I can resume normal/light house work. The discs can heal and the osteoarthritis can be kept well in check by giving myself the time I need to heal, and by doing the gentle stretching I've been told to do. Meanwhile, nothing that compresses my spine at all, very limited bending or twisting, and absolutely no twisting while carrying anything. )