Observation

While my mother was in town, J took us up to Yerkes Observatory in Wisconsin


to see the lab he works in up there. The Observatory is no longer used for research, but the labs are functional (they use telescopes in other parts of the world).

Yerkes is home to the world's largest refracting telescope.


John is standing near the base to give you an idea of the scale. The white tube-like thing is the telescope. Only half of it is in the picture. The red wheels are part of the mechanism that moves the telescope up and down. The floor that J is standing on moves up and down so that you can actually reach the eyepiece.

After dinner, we waited for the skies to clear (it had rained), and headed back to Yerkes at 10:45 pm. This was the start of the most exciting part of the trip. Although we were not able to use the telescope pictured above (only the director is qualified to use it), we got to use another one of the telescopes and did some honest-to-goodness observing! We saw several nebulae and Jupiter. Jupiter looked something like this (images taken with a telescope at Yerkes--click on the first image). We also saw the four largest moons. I swear to God, it looked just like a picture out of a textbook. There were some high school teachers there using the scope--they had been there for a week-long workshop--but we just jumped right in ("step aside, real astrophysicist with his wife and mother-in-law here"). They were a little confused because they didn't know who John was, but we just shared the scope and everything worked out okay. The floor also moved up and down in this dome (the scope, while not nearly as big as the one pictured above, was still quite big and depending on what you had it pointed at and where the floor was, the eyepiece might be several feet over your head, or at your knees). I even got to put the coordinates in to move the scope (accompanied by a lot of warning to not let it hit my head) and I moved the floor and everything! Mom was absolutely thrilled, too, and we had a fabulous time.

We went to the hotel around 12:30 am and hit the hay and didn't get up until after 9 am (my mother normally goes to bed around 8pm and gets up at either 2am or 4 am, depending on whether she has to work overtime; so this was pretty crazy scheduling for her). Then, we headed back to Chicago. It was beyond worth it to go up there. Yerkes is a very famous observatory, so it was worth it historically, plus we got to use the scope which is probably a once in a lifetime experience, and to top it off, the University has just sold Yerkes and the land around it to a developer. While the observatory will remain on the site, if the sale actually goes through (and there's no guarantee about that because the town may block it) the University will no longer have control over the observatory and we wouldn't know someone who could just let us go in and fiddle around with the thing.

This whole experience has made me want to buy a piece of land in the middle of nowhere, a decent, but affordable telescope, and do some casual observing as a hobby with J (okay, so it may be a little weird for an astrophysicist to have astronomy as a hobby, but really, he doesn't get much of a chance to just point a scope at cool things in the sky and look at them). Maybe someday.....

I'm alive

Just busy.

Last week, my mother was here and took the week off work and we did a few tourist things and she taught me how to sew. Over the weekend, I slept. This week, it's been a combination of trying to get work done and still being tired, so still sleeping a lot. Hrmph. Apparently, my body doesn't understand that after a week off, one needs to work like mad to catch up on all the stuff one could've been doing if one had been at work. Oh, and I had some friends over on the fourth and we played with some sparklers and had margaritas (a nice patriotic drink) and ate hamburgers and brats and blueberry/peach cobbler. Yum.

I'd be more interesting if I had more energy. Really. But for now, I'm just letting you know I'm still alive. ;)

California here I come

Thank you all for your congrats. The other night, I was too excited (and exhausted) to tell you what this little bit of data means to me, so I thought I'd take a moment to do so now.

Grad school has really been a rough road for me (as it is for most people). In addition to all of the trials and tribulations that come with working in lab, I also had to deal with my husband living in another state for three years (though he was able to come home on weekends) and a crippling depression. Additionally, I got stuck finishing up the work of another grad student who left before she really should have and so much of my data is already published in a paper where I am not the first author (in my field, there are often several authors on a journal article). This is a problem because an unofficial criteria for graduating is having a first author paper. Now, of course, some people get to leave before then (such as the student whose work I got stuck doing), but so many professors have gotten burned by this, they are becoming very reluctant to let people do it.

So, until about two days ago, I was finishing my 6th year of grad school and I had absolutely no data that could be put in a paper of my own. And no idea if I would be getting some anytime soon.

We're going to get to Calif. soon, I promise.

In the meantime, NASA, in its infinite wisdom, decided to not give the project SOFIA any money for the next fiscal year (btw, the technical hurdles mentioned by that press release were nonexistant). This was the project that was going to be paying my husband starting in August until I graduated. They have already spent half a billion dollars (yes, that's billion, with a b) on this project and they were effectively cancelling it. It was a project for a telescope on an airplane. The airplane had been built and modified to fit the telescope. The telescope was in its final stages of development. Several instruments that were to accompany the telescope (one of which J was working on) were nearing completion. And now it is all stopped. In fact, they stopped giving them money for the current fiscal year.

Now, I could rant about the stupidity of this and the workings of the federal government and how this country is going to go to hell in a handbasket if we keep cutting funding for basic research, but that's immaterial at this point. The important thing is that J needed a new job. And that job was not going to be in Chicago. He was able to get funding through Sept. and then he heads to Pasadena to work with a group at Caltech. So, despite our best efforts, we are going to be separated yet again.

This made my situation even more desperate. I really need to graduate, but I had no data. I am determined to graduate by next Feb. at the latest, but yet, I had no data. I had no idea how I was going to accomplish this. Whenever I sat down to think about it, I got panicky. So, I tried to stop thinking about it.

On top of this, six years is starting to get old for a grad student in my department at my school. They frown upon you staying longer than that. They stop increasing your stipend every year. Your advisor starts thinking of you as a burden. Your committee starts pushing you to finish up and get out. Except I had nothing to finish because I hadn't gotten my start. This also made me panicky. Again, I tried to not think about it.

Then, finally, this week, I got a Result. Something I can build a paper around. Something that is going to let me get out of here and move to California where it is sunny year round (important because I have Seasonal Affective Disorder) and where my husband will be starting in October. This is what I've been waiting for all of these years.

I'm a realist, though. I know this could still go horribly awry. It wouldn't be the first time such has happened to a graduate student. But, now, I have hope. Hope that this will all end up okay and I won't be forced to leave without my PhD because after 6 years, I still didn't have a real project. Hope that I won't be separated from my husband for another 3 years (and this time, he wouldn't be coming home on weekends). Hope that I will eventually be done with research and I never have to look at a pipet again (well, at least for awhile--I gotta tell ya', after all of this, I'm sick of research).

So, that's what this is all about. That is why I am celebrating (a little, quietly, so that the lab work doesn't hear me and think that I'm getting a little too uppity and decide to stop working out of spite).

I have a thesis project!

My experiment worked! It really worked! I have a publishable result! I really will graduate sometime in the next year! I'd been hoping, dreaming, wishing it were true, but now it really is true. Hooray!

Busy weekend

In addition to my lakeside trek this past weekend, I also bought a bike. I live about a 30 minute walk from campus and have long thought a bike would be a better way to go back and forth. So, on Saturday, I went to Working Bikes to buy a used bike. My criteria were as follows:

1. Cheap
2. Can ride while wearing a dress or skirt
3. Large seat
4. Nobody would want to steal it

I ended up with the bike above (we speculate it may be a 1960s Raleigh) which also has a rack on the front and a headlight that currently doesn't seem to work, but my astrophysicist hubby is going to deal with that.

For the past two days, I have been riding my bike to campus and I can't tell you how much I love it--the freedom! Today, I went home for lunch and took a little nap and came back. I can go back and forth as much as I want! The only thing left to do is buy a basket for the back so I can use it to go to the grocery store.

What's the Point?

This past Saturday morning, I decided to take the trekking socks (colorway 104, by the way) for a little walk to the lake. This was prompted by the fact that it was a billion degrees in the apartment, and I knew it would be cooler by the lake.

I live about two blocks from the lake in Hyde Park, home of the lakeshore park known as Promontory Point (or, for Hyde Parkers, the Point). In between Hyde Park and the lake, however, is Highway 41, better known as Lake Shore Drive. It's a beautiful drive, but it does mean that when you are at the Point, you can hear all of the cars drive by so you can never forget you are in the city.


To get across LSD, the city of Chicago has thoughtfully made pedestrian underpasses like this one.






At the Point, there's a really great view of the Chicago skyline. I'm not all that interested in architecture, but I think Chicago has a fabulous skyline. It's all laid out in a line jutting off into the lake and the buildings have a nice variety of heights and shapes. This picture is pretty hazy because of all of the humidity.





If you've never seen one of the Great Lakes, you probably have no idea how big they really are. On the other side of this lake is Michigan, but no matter how hard you try, you can't see it from here. When the wind is really strong, the water gets very choppy and crashes up against the rocks on the shore in large waves. Those of you who are used to the ocean (especially the Pacific) probably scoff at the idea that a lake could have waves that are measurable, but they are pretty impressive to this Iowa girl.

I sat down on one of the rocks by the shore, dangled my legs over the edge and started knitting. There was a delicious breeze blowing on me and I didn't even mind working with wool. The water is pretty clear right now, which means that it is still cold. When the water heats up, more things can grow in it and it becomes cloudy.


Even though the water was churning a bit around the rocks, the socks were unafraid because they are superwash.

The shoreline is pretty unique in this area. Sandstone boulders have been laid out so that they resemble steps.
The steps are getting pretty uneven, and slightly dangerous in some areas. For this reason, the city wanted to redo the shoreline at the Point. It was a huge to-do because the city wanted to shut down the entire Point for two years which would've denied Hyde Parkers our shoreline, plus the huge park that is the mecca of every picnicker in the area. Additionally, they wanted to get rid of the sandstone boulders altogether and make it into sterile, white concrete. The citizens of Hyde Park were up in arms about all of this and made a huge stink about it. The city and the Hyde Parkers have been in negotiations about it ever since. I think it's been 7 or 8 years now. In the meantime, we continue to enjoy the Point the way that it is.

As for the socks, I am doing one of the zigzag patterns for self-striping socks from Sensational Knitted Socks. I finished the garter-stitch cuff and started the pattern, but unfortunately discovered that one of my socks has two extra stitches. This brings up one of the disadvantages of knitting two socks on one circular needle. If you have to tink back on one sock, you almost always have to tink back on the other, too (although, I was un-purling, so would that be lrupping?). And, not wanting to go through the hell that was casting on again, I decided to decrease by two stitches on the one sock. But, now I'm not so sure how I feel about that and may end up ripping it all back and starting over. With a different pattern. I don't know. We'll see how I feel about it the next time I bring the socks out.

Sockapalooza

Guess what I got in the mail on Sat.?



Hooray! My wonderful sock savior sent me a beautiful pair of socks, some Burt's Bees hand cream, a little notepad and pen, a cute little notions bag, and a key chain made out of scrabble letters that spelled yarn.

Here are the socks in more detail:


The pattern is Gullwing Socks from Socks, Socks, Socks. The yarn is Shelridge Farms, Soft Touch Ultra. They fit beautifully. I only wish it were cold so I could wear them for longer than 5 seconds!

Thank you, Erin!

Glutton for punishment

In my defense, I have to say I didn't know I'd be picking up that many stitches when I decided to knit the bolero. I guess I never did learn that lesson from elementary school about reading all of the directions before you begin (did you ever take one of those "tests" where the directions tell you to read everything before you begin and there's a list of 30 things that includes things like stand up, tap your pencil five times, sing I am the very model of a modern major general, only to have the last thing on the list be "Do none of the above"? Those were always good for a laugh. Of course, back then, having taken the tests before and having an insane fear of looking like a fool, I always read those things all the way through).

It's a good thing the bolero is being knit in one hundred percent cotton and not wool because summer has finally arrived in Chicago which means I won't be wanting to touch wool until it cools down (in October or so--too bad the Trekking socks are wool, guess I'll have to make treks to air conditioned locales so I can handle touching them).

Determination

Well, picking up those stitches along the edges of the bolero is every bit as bad as I thought they would be. Oh, and it's 300 stitches for the front, not 200. I managed to do the right front starting with the lower edge and going up to the neck, but haven't done the neck yet. The pattern does try to be a bit helpful by breaking it down into smaller sections (pick up so many stitches along the lower edge shaping, then so many stitches along the straight selvedge, then so many stitches until you get to the neck). I'm doing myself a favor and dividing those areas in half so instead of picking up 24 stitches in 4 inches, I'm picking up 12 stitches in 2 inches, then another 12 in two inches or whatever it is. Still, I sometimes get to the end and still have to pick up 5 more stitches, or I pick up all the stitches I'm supposed to pick up, but haven't made it to the end yet. *sigh* After fiddling with it last night, I ended up putting it down and knitting a washcloth. Sometimes, you're knitting muscles need the equivalent of mindless tv.

Despite it being tedious, I am determined to get all of these stitches picked up with the next couple of days so that I can work on knitting the ribbing over the weekend. I think that's what keeps me going--once I finish picking up stitches, I can get back to the knitting part. I'm already jumping ahead of myself and reading up on seaming. I've never done proper seaming and I have spent so much time and effort on this thing, I want it to look nice when I'm done.

Bolero

Remember that Bolero I said I was working on? Well, I have finished knitting the body.



Here it is, laying all flat on my bed. Next up is the ribbing border. I have to pick up around two hundred stitches for the front and neck. I'm trying not to cringe thinking about it.

Trekking

I signed up for the Trek Along With Me knitalong, but hadn't done any treks. This weekend, I decided to do something about that. I "trekked" downtown to Millenium Park on Sat. for Worldwide Knit In Public Day. Since I took the bus and it can take 20 min. or more to get downtown from where I live, I decided it counted (besides, if I waited until I actually took a walk, I'd never have a Trek-along post). The only picture of me from the event looks like I'm mentally disturbed, so I give you a picture of other knitters:


And of the progress I made on my socks:


Yes, that's right folks. After being there for 4 hours, I had successfully cast-on (well, okay, I had also spent a great deal of time winding the yarn into two almost equally sized balls). In my defense, I was trying to figure out how to cast-on to knit two socks on one circular. In the past, I've just transferred the socks to the same circular after having knit on them awhile. But, I guess I wanted to be difficult. In any event, I eventually figured it out but decided I didn't like how that cast-on looked, so I ended up casting-on on two different circs and transferring one so they would both be on one circ. *sigh*

Our group attracted quite a bit of attention, including a photographer and reporter from the Tribune and a cameraperson from CLTV (Chicagoland TV) whose clip ended up on WGN (a woman at Curves said she had seen V on TV this morning!). We had around 60 people there of all ages, both genders, and all levels of knitting. It was a lot of fun and there was talk of turning this into a first Sat. of the month sort of thing.

I also took my socks to church:


I was lectoring (reading one of the bible passages to the congregation) and had to carry the Gospels in the processional and therefore had to hang out in the back of the church until Mass started. Great knitting time.

This past weekend, I helped a good friend of mine, V, sell her pottery at an art fair. This was her first fair and she was nervous and excited. She was deeply worried nobody would like her things. I imagine it's got to be difficult putting your creative efforts out there for all the world to see and purchase. The first hour or so after opening was ego-crushing. People walked up, looked for a minute, then wandered off. I could see the tension building on her face and I knew it would not be relieved until she had made a sale.

Her first sale was a large green bowl. The buyer was interested in a possible mate to it, but it was one of a kind. After that, V, seemed to calm down a little and was willing to leave the booth and have a little walk around the fair herself. We talked about it later and we agreed it was an enlightening experience being on "the other side of the table." We recognized some of our own shopping behavior, but saw it from the perspective of the artist (well, in my case, as the friend of an artist that I consider very talented) and how ego-bruising some of our habits can be. It's hard not to feel that they hate it or think it's substandard if a people walk past the table and only glance at the pottery before moving on. There are hundreds of dismissive gestures people employ with their hands, faces, body postures that can really cut you to the quick. Intellectually you realize they might not mean anything by it, but that's hard to remember while you're sitting there.

Ultimately, she did very well. In two days, she made over $1000, net. This calculation does not include the amount of money she spent on studio time and so forth because she would've done that anyway (pottery is one of her passions), but rather the cost of selling at the fair. And it was a beautiful weekend to be outdoors--sunny, not too warm or humid.

As for me, I got a weekend of people watching, time outdoors in beautiful weather, some muscle-building from the loading and unloading of all of that pottery, two very good nights of sleep (from all that exercise and sun--this is worth it's weight in gold for me as I have a tendency towards insomnia), a free dinner, and two beautiful pieces of pottery that I will treasure always (or until I break it--at which point, I'll likely glue it together). And, of course, the satisfaction of being useful and helping out a friend.

A little appreciation goes a long way

I'm not sure if I mentioned it before, but this past school year I have been doing a part-time internship for museum presentation of science. For the past several months, I have been entrenched in my final project. We had to come up with an original idea for a small exhibit or demonstration, write a proposal, and if your proposal was accepted (not everyone's was) implement it, evaluate it, and write a final paper which was due in yesterday and give a final presentation today.

Lab work? What lab work? You mean I'm supposed to be working on a thesis project?

I wrote a proposal for a demonstration on chicken embryonic development. I preserved 4 and 6 day embryos (gestation is 19-21 days), bought slides, tested microscopes, did a prototype demo, did evaluations, and wrote the report. I wrote the proposal alone, but did the rest with the help with two other students and a coach. At times, it was intense. I was working on the report while in Boston, if that tells you anything.

Yesterday, I was telling one of my labmates that I would be glad when it was all over. I was exhausted. I was tired of trying to divide my time between lab and museum work. I was tired of having group meetings. I was tired of chickens. I just wanted it to be finished.

Today, we set up all of our projects in a room in the M*useum of S*cience and Ind*ustry. It was kind of cute--like a mini-science fair. People from our partner museums and from the university came and looked things over and we each presented our projects to the group as a whole. And I gotta admit, I was feeling a little, well, unsure of myself because what did I have? Some dead embryos and slides. My colleagues had cool computer programs that would take you on tours of constellations in our galaxy or a program that taught you about the affect of frequency on sound and you got to wave a little wand and make waves on the screen and their was a voice-over and everything.

But they liked it! They liked my embryos. And not just in a polite, oh she worked hard so I'm going to compliment her sort of way, but in a I overheard the director of education for MSI saying what a great demonstration it was and that he loved the fact that it brought together two museum icons (the chick hatchery and the human prenatal exhibit which consists of human embryos that they've had since the World's Fair), and that they really thought that they could use it and were interested in it.

And that was when I thought, "It was all worth it."

Most of what I do in lab has no lasting tangible thing at the end of it. I mean, there are pictures, there are graphs, but none of it feels like it's going to be this thing that will really make a difference to anybody. But this, this feels real. People will come to the musuem and see it and learn something and even if they don't learn something they'll think how cool it is to see a real embryo and not just a picture or a model but the actual thing. And they won't know who I am, and my name won't be associated with it in any way except to the staff of the museum, but it will still be something that is mine that affected people--everyday people, not super-specialized scientists--in a way and it will make them think, "Science is cool."

It was great interacting with the public and it was rewarding to see their enthusiasm, but this is even more exciting because it means that my work will survive after I'm gone from the museum. And that means a lot to me.

Not that I'm going to be gone from the museum for awhile. I'm taking a break for about a month, then I'm going to work with the musuem directly (only a couple hours a week because, hey, I have to graduate) to see that the demonstration really becomes a permanant part of the musuem. They have a group of high school interns who have been studying development and I'm going to teach them to do the demonstration for the public.

So, that's it. That was my day today. It's definitely going in the books as one of the best days of 2006.

Boston Shop Crawl

I do not have pix of my purchase yet because I have been really busy. You know how it is when you've been gone for a week and you get back to work--there's a million things you need to do.

My first stop was A Good Yarn. This shop is absurdly convenient by the T (the Boston subway system). It's probably 100ft from the stop. The women in the shop were very friendly and when I told them I was from Chicago, they asked me about the yarn stores in Chicago and I told them abut the shops and about my knitting group. They let me just wander around without being too nosy and I found several yarns there that I haven't seen at shops in Chicago ('course I can't remember which ones those are, now!). The shop was well-organized and about 90% of the yarns had swatches next to them for you to admire and feel. This was true for two of the shops I visited and I really liked it. One thing I did not like about the store was that instead of having each ball of yarn individually priced, they had a little sign near the yarn with the yarn name and the price. This was not much of a problem since they were so well organized, in most cases it was easy to find the sign with the price on it. In general, I'm not a big fan of this system, though, because it can be inconvenient for the shopper. I can see why stores do it, of course, it's much easier than labeling every skein of yarn. One thing I especially liked about the store was one display they had where the skeins were all hanging from hooks on the wall, sorted by color. This was fabulous because I had bought a hat pattern and wanted to use the yarn they used for the model (a mercerized cotton, can't for the life of me remember the name now) and that brand was all displayed like that. Therefore, I could see all of the different colors at once and could easily compare them to each other and get the exact shades that I wanted. Cross stitch stores do this all the time and it makes it very easy to find the color you are looking for. However, I'm not sure this approach is very practical with yarn which is bigger and will take up more room. And it would be difficult to hang up a large number of skeins of the same color, so I suppose they would have to hang out in the back room and you could go get them if a customer wanted a large number of them. Practically speaking, you could do the same thing with swatches--a swatch from each color of yarn.

As far as accessories, they had several kinds of stitch markers, chibis (I finally broke down and bought one--I could no longer resist the lure of the chibi!), bamboo, metal, and rosewood needles. I was sorely tempted to buy a rosewood circular for sock knitting but decided against it.

Next, I went to Newbury street, to find Newbury yarns (no website) which I had no trouble locating thanks to the excellent directions of Dave Daniels. Sadly, they were closed. There was a note on the door saying that they would open at 10:30, but since it was 11:30 at the time so I didn't stick around.

After lunch, and a stroll through the Public Gardens and the Common, I went to Windsor Button. I really loved this store. It's an independent craft store and has a magnificent selection of buttons--plastic, wood, shell--you name the material, the shape, the color, they have it. I bought a large wood handpainted flower in a soft green. I have no idea what I'll use it for--I'm sure I'll be inspired at some point. They also have a wide selection of yarn from brands you would find at JoAnn's or Michael's to things you only find in yarn shops or online. They had some knitted swatches, but not as many as A Good Yarn. I had John with me by this time and fortuitously, there was a table and chairs for him to sit at and read while I browsed. I decided on some sock yarn, and some Lionbrand Kitchen cotton, and a couple washcloth pattern books because I wanted to make some washcloths for John's grandmother as a belated Mother's Day gift. This was probably one of the best things about this store. If you wanted fancy yarn, there was fancy yarn. If you wanted inexpensive run-of-the-mill yarn, they had it. I know many people eschew Leisure Arts booklets as the kind of stuff that gave knitting a bad name in the 80s and 90s, but if you want something basic like washcloths, there's no need to try to find a Rowan magazine and search for the one or two they've probably published in the last 20 years. As for other craft materials, there was a large selection of ribbons, and a whole section devoted to wedding stuff. I'm very nearly positive there was more, but it didn't register because it wasn't near the knitting stuff. Again, the staff was friendly and asked if I needed any help, but left me alone to browse (I cannot stand salespeople that hover over you). Again, I was asked about the yarn scene in Chicago (one of the salespeople was thinking of moving there) and caused a small uproar when I told them there was a Tender Buttons store in Chicago (they thougt the only one was in New York). For needles, they had metal, bamboo and plastic, and several other notions, but not as big a selection as the first store.

Finally, I went to Woolcott and Co. in Harvard Square. There I met the inestimable Sean who was friendly and asked me if I had met the Chicago celebrity blogger Franklin Habit (I haven't; one of these days, I have to get to the MCA Stitch 'n Bitch and ask him to sign my t-shirt or something). Then, we started talking about Franklin's blog and I told him I also read Dave Daniel's blog and he recommended the store, and he said he had just spoken to Dave on the phone and would have to thank him for the referral. I wandered around the store trying to decide what I really wanted to buy. I have a hard time just buying yarn with no particular purpose in mind. As I had already bought sock yarn, I didn't want to buy more of it. And since it was a beautiful, sunny, warm day in Boston, I just couldn't bring myself to buy wool. I finally decided on some Debbie Bliss 100% silk (although I was sorely tempted by another silk yarn from Alchemy) which I think I'm going to make into a little lace scarf that I may keep or give to John's grandmother (she was a big knitter, btw, before her arthritis got so bad she couldn't knit anymore--it's our little connection, see). Again, about 90% of the yarns had sample swatches hanging next to them. However, they had something the other store didn't have. Each swatch had a tag with the name of the yarn, the fiber content, the price per skein, and how many skeins it would take to make a four foot scarf or a small sweater! Genius! How perfect for the tourist or stash shopper. The store was neat and well-organized. There seemed to be a mixture of pricing systems, with some yarns having just a sign and some yarns having a tag on every ball of yarn. Perhaps he is switching from one to the other. I remember this store had very good lighting, and all of the shelves were of light colored wood, so the store was very cheerful. There was a large selection of accoutrements, and I even spied the yarn strand separator that I bought online because I have never been able to find one in a store! Color me impressed! There was a variety of needles in several price ranges, although no rosewood. I bought a 10" set of bamboo needles so I could make my washcloths (because I hadn't thought about bringing extra needles for just in case). I thought the yarn selection was very good and there were several things I had never seen anywhere else--even online (like the Alchemy yarn, for instance). I also saw Reynolds Saucy Sport which is what I'm making my bolero out of (no, I did not get it done), and I have never seen in a store. I really like that yarn and it is inexpensive, which makes it a plus.

Each of the three stores I went to had something to recommend to it, but if I lived in the Boston area, I would probably go to Wolcott and Co. most often for several reasons. First, because I simply felt the most comfortable there. The salespeople at the other store were very nice and friendly, but hadn't heard (or only vaguely had heard) about WWKIP day, and didn't really seem very plugged in to the modern knitting "scene" as it were (not the "I only knit scarves with novelty yarn on size 17 needles" modern knitting scene, but the knitting group/blogging knitting scene). Second because I really liked the variety of yarns both in price and in quality. And third, because I love shopping in Harvard Square and there is a Tealuxe nearby (which is where I like to buy loose tea), and there is an Au Bon Pain nearby with a huge outside seating area that I used to go to when I was in college and being there reminds me of fond memories of hanging out with friends, and I can go with John and just send him to find a bookstore or something.

All three of these stores are very close to public transit, which also makes tops in my book. They had wonderful selections of yarn--some novelty yarn, but not an overwhelming amount, yarns at both ends of the price spectrum, large brand names and yarns from small companies that do hand-dyed yarns (Bearfoot Mountain Company was popular and I would've bought some at one of the places if not for the fact that it was too warm to buy wool). I really, really love all of the sample swatches and I wish more stores in Chicago would have such large numbers of them. Some stores in Chicago do have them, but they either only have them for a small selection of their stock (for things like self-striping sock yarn, and ribbon yarns that you can't figure out what it would look like knitted up), or they don't have them right next to the stock of the yarn in question, so you have to go look at the swatches, then go try to find the yarn. In the two smaller stores, I thought they did a good job of having their items attractively yet conveniently displayed. They also had sample items (baby sweaters for the most part) on hangers in a little area instead of all over the store. I liked this too. One thing I did not pay attention to were the patterns, books and booklets in particular, so I can't really comment on the variety of books these stores sell in comparison to Chicago. One other plus, the stores did not seem to be afraid of selling lower end needles. I swear it can be difficult trying to find needles that aren't addi or bamboo in Chicago. What's wrong with Inox people? Some of us would rather spend our money on yarn.

Thus ends my Boston yarn experience. I had a great time and will definitely be frequenting these stores whenever I vist Boston.

Boston yarn shops, here I come!

Today, we're heading into Boston. John is going to see some old professors and talk astrophysics. As exciting as that sounds, I'm hitting the yarn stores instead. Dave Daniels has graciously sent me a list of stores to try. Will let you know how they are!

It's true

I've been ignoring you, dear readers. I have been putting off writing blog entries by saying things like, "I don't have any pictures to post," and "I'm too tired," and "I don't feel like it." I appologize, really I do, but, well, life got the best of me last week.

Gumby
Last Wednesday, my dear Ghiradelli had to have several teeth removed. He now only has about 3 left. This is not a problem because cats mostly swallow their food whole. To do dental work on a cat, you have to use general anesthesia (big surprise). Now, my kitty is a little old. And he's a carrier for FIP. And he has a very low heart-rate (possibly because he's so mellow). So, I was nervous about the procedure. I was in tears the night before, and stayed home the day of because I was such a wreck. In such circumstances, I'm like a wounded animal, I curl up and hide and read fantasy science fiction (okay, maybe that last bit is not like a wounded animal, but I bet if wounded animals could read, they would pick fantasy novels). Fantasy because it gives me the much-needed escape. I can completely lose myself and all sense of time and that's a good thing when you're waiting to hear if your precious fur-baby got through surgery okay (which he did, of course, just like everyone said he would). At any rate, after surgery, he needed to take an antibiotic for several days and the standard one has been giving him an upset stomach, so we went for another one--a liquid. Boy, was that fun. The first day, I got it all over him. The second and third days were much better. The fourth day it started giving him diarhea, so I had to stop giving him that one and take him to the vet on Monday so the vet could look at his mouth and see if we should try yet another antibiotic--pills this time. So, I have a week's worth of pills that are bigger than the usual ones, a cat who hates taking them (okay, that statement is redundant), and I'm leaving town so Roommie will have to do it. Poor guy (both the cat and the roommate).

Watery Bolero
It's really taking shape but I wonder if I will really get it done on time. I've got all of that traveling time tomorrow, but since we are going into the city on Thurs. and maybe staying the night with John's brother, I'm not sure how much I'll really get to work on it besides that. I'm bringing a back up sweater just in case. I am less that a quarter of the way done with the front and after I get the front done, I have to do the neck shaping, ribbing, and sew the thing together. Yeah. I'm not going to get it done. Oh well.

Just in case by some miracle I finish the bolero, I need another project(s) to occupy my time. I have been neglecting my roommate's socks, so I'm bringing that project along. I had gotten a stain on the foot of one sock and I need to wash it or rip out a huge section and cut the yarn to get rid of the stain. Neither of which has sounded appealing, that's why the sock has been languishing. But, I really need a portable project (you need something small and inconspicuous when you're knitting during a wedding) and Roommie really deserves the socks, so I am determined to try to fix the problem soon. I will also bring along a pattern for a tank top and some yarn to start it (which requires bringing a variety of needles, but that's okay).

Don't know how much I'll be posting this week since I'll be out of town (not that I post all that much in town).

I'm awake

Really, I am. I am not about to fall over face first on my desk and start snoring.

Last night, I went home from lab at 10:00. Having gotten there at 9:30 in the morning, I really feel I put in a full day of work. However, it was a stupid day, because I didn't actually get very much work done at all. There was the doctor's appointment in the morning, a talk in the afternoon, and then a practice talk for a qualifying exam for our newest student in the lab and the revisions of it that lasted four hours.

So, knitting? Not so much. I had figured that if I knit 2 inches per day on the Watery Bolero, it would be done by the time I needed it. I'm about 3 inches behind schedule. Hopefully, I'll catch up this weekend. However, I am really loving this yarn--Saucy Sport. It has superb stitch definition which makes even stockinette look fabulous. The only problem with it is......it has superb stitch definition so every little mistake is glaringly obvious. Still, I think it will make for a good little bolero whenever it is I get it done (hopefully before the end of the summer).

In other news, I think my experiments are working. *knocks on wood* But shhhh, don't tell anyone. If everyone knows my experiments are working, they will mysteriously start not working, just to be contrary. I can't tell you, though, how nice it is to be able to say to my boss, "Hey, I have a result," instead of, "Nothing works and I can't figure out why," or, "I've gotten nothing done because I had to take several mental health days in a row." Though he's so stoic, his reactions to each of those three statements looks very similar. But I like to think that somewhere inside him there's a little happy face that lights up when I show him results.

Furry Feet

For Mother's Day, I thought I'd make my mom some furry flip-flops (when I was a kid, we called them thongs, but now that thongs has entirely new meaning, I have switched to flip-flops because the visual image from the statement, "I thought I'd make my mom some furry thongs", just isn't what it's supposed to be anymore.) On the right is the shoe as it came from the store and on the left is the magic that can be done with a some fun fur eyelash yarn and a crochet hook. I tried them on, just to get an idea of what they'd be like.


And here is the completed pair next to the anklet socks I made for my grandma for Mother's Day (the yarn is Cascade Fixation):


And while we're showing pictures....

Happy Anniversary to Us! We've been married six years (it used to be that people didn't get very excited until you'd been married 20 years or so, but these days if you make three years, people are congratulating you on beating the statistics).





I knew you'd want to see the shawl/wrap in more detail, so here you go. I used one ball of Gossamer in black with gold and silver sparkly threads in it and knit 50 stitches in garter stitch on size 15 needles until I ran out of yarn (which gave me about 5 feet of shawl). I was actually making it to wear to a wedding over Memorial Day weekend (with the new dress that I'm wearing in the photo), but I finished it Sat. morning and hurried up and blocked it so I could wear it that night.

So, what am I working on now? The Fiery Bolero from Interweave Knits summer 2005. Only in navy blue. I'm hoping to wear it with a yellow and blue sleeveless dress at the rehearsal dinner. Cross your fingers!

You guys are great

Really, you are! I feel soooo much better about being in lab today. But, I think this sort of situation is exactly why there are few women in the higher levels of academic science. It is not, as the former president of Harvard has suggested, that we are not as intelligent as the men. It's because at a certain point, we start getting sick of dealing with all the bullsh*t served up by the men. The aggression, the competition, the feeling like it's a big boys club. All of it. And then we leave. And, I confess, I am so tired of research and being under constant pressure and stress, that I'm not sure I want to stay in research anyway, though that seems to be fairly normal thinking for a senior grad. student.

So, for now, I'm going to take Kate's advice, "Assert yourself and make statements, not questions. Repeat after me: I will never state a fact as a question." But, I've also come to the realization that there is no reason why I should even try to deal with these problems (ie disappearing glassware). I'm (hopefully) going to graduate in about 9 months, I don't have time to deal with this kind of crap (but, I do have time to write blog entries--but that's therapy and necessary). The younger students can do it. They actually like doing it, in fact (we've got one who is really enthusiastic about making things better and more efficient, which, I admit, sometimes drives me nuts because as an old student I don't like change). If I can't do my experiments because there are no suitable flasks, I will just order some and let the others figure out where our flasks are going.

I knew this day would come. I saw each of our former grad students go through the same thing toward the ends of their studies--they just stopped caring about the lab as a whole and did whatever it was they needed to do to graduate. Woe to the person who got in their way. And they were not pleasant to deal with, because they were sick of this whole place just like I am now. So, as a 3rd and 4th year grad student, I said, one day, when I'm a senior student, I'm going to become a b*tch. Not because I want to, but because it's inevitable. It's like when you start turning into your mother. There's no way to escape it. But it's still a startling realization when it finally starts happening to you.

And, here's the thing. The Boys. No problem today. All smiles and being nice just like nothing happened on Friday. This, I know, is a Male Thing. They have a fight, it's over, they move on. They do not sit around at their computer and think, oh God, I'm sooooo not looking forward to seeing so-and-so today after that fight last Friday, it'll be so awkward and what if he's still pissed off? Nope. It's all done for them. Today is a New Day. "Hi, how are ya'? Liked your email about the lab gift for the post-doc who is leaving--very amusing." All in all, it's not a bad policy, really. Just let it go. That's what I should do--let it go. I'm working on it.

I don't know

I have no idea what to name this blog entry.

I work in a lab. It has its good days and its bad days. Today was a bad day. Not because of experiments, but because of people. See, nothing can be simple in this lab. A person cannot just buy something for the lab without other people sticking their noses into it. And they are not just politely curious, they are aggressive about it. And one person cannot just take care of a problem that they have found, everyone has to get involved. And when I say everyone, I usually mean The Boys. There has to be discussion, there has to be debate. Do we really need this thing you are ordering from a company? Why can't we use this other thing? Is this problem you are trying to take care of really a problem? Maybe it's just your imagination. For example, you must defend why you want to talk to the dishwasher about missing glassware, because maybe there's another explanation for why our good glassware is gradually getting replaced by substandard glassware (gnomes, perhaps?). Have you put radio transponders on every piece of glassware and tracked their movements? Perhaps we can put GPS chips on them and set up a computer program. It doesn't matter that unless someone is stealing the glassware there are only two ways it can disappear--breakage, and not coming back from the dishwasher. And unless breakage is linked to the spontaneous appearance of the not-so-good glassware (that doesn't have the lab initials on it, and is of a brand that we don't buy), then it seems to follow that logically we are not always getting back our glassware after washing.

Seriously, it is so bad that I think if I said I had menstrual cramps they would say, "How do you know they're menstrual cramps? Couldn't it be appendicitis? Are you actually menstruating right now? Are you sure? I mean, has there been any blood loss in the last hour or so?"

You think I'm exaggerating, but I am perfectly serious.

Which is why today, I just couldn't take it anymore. I got upset. I started arguing. Literally, I got so mad, my vision blurred. I have never, ever been that mad in all my life. Over missing glassware. And then, when I tried to cut off the argument, they just kept going! I had to forcefully state, "I.do.not.want.to.talk.about.this.anymore!" And leave the room. And when I came back in (because, you know, I have work to do), somebody brought it up again and I had to say again, "I don't want to discuss this anymore." "Not ever?" was the reply.

Honestly, how am I supposed to deal with this? And is it all men who do this, or just scientists. I can't tell because most of the men I deal with do this sort of thing to one extent or another but they are all scientists.

You know, I don't even really care about the glassware. It is the complete lack of respect for my opinion, knowledge, experience, and in the end my privacy that just drives me up the wall and makes me want to cry. I cannot just say, "I don't want to discuss this anymore," there has to be debate even about that.

If ever there was a day that I was going to walk out of grad school, it would've been today. I have stayed in grad school through my husband moving away for three years, two cats dying, and serious mental illness, but today, I was ready to walk out the door.

Over glassware.

Did I mention?

That I'm claustrophobic?

So, when I was in the elevator today on my way to get some tea from the argo tea kiosk in the hospital and it stopped abruptly, I was slightly disturbed. And when it wouldn't start up again, I was even more disturbed. And I thought, I wonder how much oxygen there is in here?

Fortunately, I was not alone, or I probably would've gone straight into hysterics. There was a facilities engineer in there with me. Not that I found him all that comforting (and he was breathing my oxygen!) but I have to maintain a good front at all times in front of all people, so the presence of another person kept me from screaming, "Omigod, I can't breathe!!! There's not enough air in here!!! The walls are closing in!!! I'm too young to die!!!! Get me out of here!!!" Caught without my ativan or knittting, I just stood there, quietly going crazy.

The facilities guy had his radio. He informed me that sometimes they don't work in the elevators just before making his call. Fortunately, somebody answered or I would've had to kill him to stop him from breathing my air. What transpired was a series of strange conversations which gave me a bit of insight into why nothing in this building works properly.

"Hey Al," Mr. Facilities says.
"Yeah?"
"You'll never guess where I'm stuck."
Dead silence for at least 60 seconds. Apparently, he was really trying to think of a place.
"Hey, I'm in the elevator in C*ummings in between the 6th and 4th floors." Now, some elevators have numbers that light up as you go past the floors, but the ones in this building do not, so all he could do was guess.
"Okay."
More silence.
"Where are you?"
"I'm in the west passenger elevator with a female passenger and we're stuck between floors." I don't know what the purpose was of telling the dispatcher that it was a female passenger. Perhaps it was code for, "take your time," or maybe, "hurry up before she freaks out on me."
"Alright, I'll send someone. Don't move." I'm almost positive that was joke.

More silence. I take this moment to tell the nice facilites man that I am claustrophobic. He says, "Good thing you're not stuck in here by yourself, then, huh?" Yes. It's quite a good thing. Except that you're breathing my air.

"Don't worry, there are so many cables holding this thing up." Yes, but what about the air??? It had not actually occurred to me that the cables might snap, but thank you for putting that into my head. "You know, we just put a new generator on this car yesterday, and it was working fine except that there was no light in here and the fan wasn't working." I contemplate being trapped in a dark elevator car with no fan. "We just got all that working, and now it gets stuck. It was acting kinda funny before you got on, too. Stopped on the 10th floor, but then I pressed the open and close buttons and it just took off again." He now takes this opportunity to try to slam the doors shut more. Which causes the car to shake alarmingly but this is okay because there are so many cables holding the thing up.

Did I mention he was breathing my air?

So, we hear someone far away shouting "Hello!"
We shout back, "Hello!"
The radio says, "Now, where are you again?"
"I think we're around the 5th floor," Mr. Facilities says.
The radio says something incomprehensible.
"Well, I don't know, maybe we're on the 4th floor then."
"Hello!" Someone calls down the elevator shaft.
"Hello!" Mr. Facilities calls. "Don't you open up those doors, Bob! You'll get your head cut off!"

I'm thinking this means that if he opens the doors they'll slam back shut (as some sort of safety measure to keep people from opening the doors when the elevator isn't there), and this will decapitate poor Bob. This was not hard to imagine. Many's the time that I've shoved my leg in the door to catch the elevator and the door just kept closing.

"Hey, we've called the elevator guys."
"Don't you open those doors!"
"I know, I'm not going to!"
"You'll get in trouble!"
There's laughing.

Mr. Facilities now tells me that it used to be that if an elevator got stuck, the facilities guys would just open the doors and pull the people out. But this aggravated the elevator repair guys on campus, and now there was a new policy that they couldn't do that. Great, I'm going to die of suffocation because the elevator guys will get in a snit if the doors are opened before they get there. Mr. Facilities says that if it's after hours it could take the elevator guys an hour (!!!) to get there, so they call the fire department who comes and just rips the doors off, which causes an even bigger problem for the elevator men because they have to actually put the doors back on, so it's a bit stupid, really.

It's starting to take awhile for the elevator guys, so Mr. Facilities decides he's going to try the emergency call box which calls the campus police. As he pushes the buttons he says, "These things don't really work." Oh good. "The other day, I was trapped in the freight elevator and I pushed the button and I hear, 'U of C police, can I help you?' and I try to tell them I'm stuck in the elevator and they say, 'U of C police, can I help you?' and I keep saying I'm stuck in the elevator, but they can't hear me so I finally said, 'You're an idiot!' Fortunately, there were some electricians around and they let me out."

Note to self, don't take the elevators after hours. I only work on the 8th floor. I can walk up.*

Finally, after what seems like 10 billion years but was more like 15 minutes, we hear another, "Hello!"
"Hello, hello!" says Mr. Facilities.
"Where are you?" I swear you'd think there was a window in the elevator and a road sign nearby.
"I think we're on the 5th floor."
There's a terrible noise as the elevator guys pull the doors open. We were on the 5th floor. Almost. There was about a foot and a half distance between the elevator floor and the corridor floor.

There are two elevator men there. They are both standing in the door. It's not a very large door. They start talking to the facilities guy ("Yeah, the doors were acting kind of funny, not closing right on the 10th floor...") I can't get out because the elevator men are in the way. I'm staring at them. Finally, they let me out. I took the stairs the rest of the way down.

You know, I was heading out for some caffeine to wake me up. I ended up with decaf and the largest, sweetest, stickiest cinnamon roll ever. How did I get back to lab? I took the elevator. Just not the one I had been stuck in. I don't think I'll be getting in that one for awhile.

*As it happens, the operator on the other end could hear us just fine and said they would call the university.

Done

These are my sockpal socks which I blocked over the weekend and sent out today--on time! Hooray!

My next project:



An incredibly simple rectangular wrap in garter stitch on really big needles because I need to wear it to a wedding at the end of the month and I know there's no way I'm going to be finishing something more complicated in that amount of time. It's a non-shedding mohair blend with silver and gold periodically spaced throughout which you can't see in the picture. It's not lace, but it's still one of those things that will look much, much better after it's blocked (I hope).

H is for....

Hyde Park


I am so far behind on my ABC-along it's not even funny.

Hyde Park is the neighborhood I live in on the Southside of Chicago. It is a tiny oasis of relative safety in the vast unsafeness that the Southside is famous for. There's very little to do down here and it's ridiculously far from downtown and the fun that is the Northside, but people seem to like it. I go in cycles. At first I hated it, then I had a few good years of liking it, and now I hate it again. Good thing I'll be leaving in a year or so.

Strangers in the night....

The yeast cells of strain A14 were just hanging out on their agar plate, minding their own business, when they were suddenly scooped up and put back down on another plate. No sooner had this happened when they were joined by the yeast cells of strain I15, and swirled around on the plate. At this point the A14 cells did what any other self-respecting "alpha" cells would do when at a mixer with "a" cells--they sent out their schmoos and had themselves a little orgy. A scientific observer was able to take a this picture of the event:



Tomorrow, when they have happily combined into alpha/a cells, they will be transfered yet again to another plate and allowed to sporulate. What more could a yeast want out of life?

Don't judge me. It's 9:33pm and I'm still at lab. Permit me my little yeast humor.

The great thing about using yeast for experiments (yes, the same yeast that you use to make bread) is that they are capable of sexual reproduction which means you can do all kinds of genetics with them. It would take too long to explain--just trust me on this. The yeast come in two mating types: "alpha" and "a".

No, I am not at lab for yeast voyeurism. They can have their little orgy just fine without me watching. I'm actually doing a different kind of experiment and if you're really nice to me, I might show you some pretty pictures from the microscope in a few days.

Still no blocking

I ended up getting out of lab earlier than I thought, but instead of blocking my socks like a good girl, I started to create a How to Knit brochure. The Hyde Park Art Center is moving from it's present location (right next door to me) to a few blocks away. This weekend, they are having a grand opening party/open house with music and food and artists and midnight ceramics and my SnB group. We are bringing some needles and cheap yarn to teach people to knit if they want. And I thought, wouldn't it be nice if we had something to give to people about knitting that they can take with them? Thus, the brochure.

You know, my hands know how to knit, but trying to describe it on paper was a challenge. I would have to pick up my knitting, knit or purl a stitch, and then describe that action. The hard part is going to be the diagrams. I'm going to try to do close-up images of my hands casting on and knitting and purling, but I'm afraid the photos won't photocopy well. And I can't fathom doing drawings. And it's probably illegal for me to steal diagrams from websites (though I would reference them on the brochure--I swear). Anyway, I wrote the descriptions for casting on, knitting, purling, casting off and some simple fabrics--garter, stockinette, seed, ribbing. We'll see if I'm able to get it done by Sat. If I don't, it'll be a good thing to have around anyway....

A Quickie

I don't have a lot of time today because I have to do this ridiculously long experiment, but I thought I'd pop in to say that I K-stitched up the toes and I made the wire blockers for the sockapaloooza socks, but I haven't done the blocking yet. Maybe tomorrow (tonight I'm afraid I'll be in lab).

Also, last night at the SnB meeting, I collected the last of the items our group is sending to the newborns for afghans for Afghans and I shipped them out today priority mail. Here is a pic of the fruits of our labors:


Hats and socks go to the newborns, but the stuffed animals are staying with me (I'm generous, but I'm not "give-away-all-my-stuffed-animals" generous). Altogether, we made 21 hats and 3 pairs of booties or socks!

The knitting is done!

I finished the knitting on my sockapaloooza/cirque du socks socks yesterday. I could've completely finished them and started blocking them last night, but I decided to watch Memoirs of a Geisha (which I enjoyed by the way) and since I'm still not the world's best Kitchener Stitcher, I decided to wait to do that until I could give them more attention. I stitched up one this morning. I plan on doing the other tonight at SnB, then sew in the ends and maybe even give them a bath and block them tonight after SnB. I normally don't block socks. I just wear them, they're naturally the right shape so they fit my foot fine. But since I'm sending these away, I decided to try blocking them. I'm going to make a pair of blockers from wire hangers. I'll let you know how that works out.

So, what did I work on during the movie (because you know you can't sit through a movie without knitting, it's just wrong)? I started the second sock of the pair I'm making my grandma for Mother's day. I'm using Cascade Fixation and making up the pattern as I go along. Grandma complains that her socks constrict her ankles too much, so I made a garter stitch cuff. These are short socks, so there shouldn't be a problem with them staying up, and anyway, the elastic in the yarn should help with that a little. It took me practically no time at all to make the first one, so I should be able to get this done in time. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to make socks for Mom in time, so I think I'm going to make her a pair of fuzzy flipflops by crocheting eyelash yarn around the tops. If you haven't seen a pair of these, you probably have no idea what I'm talking about--don't worry, I'll post a picture when I'm done.

Feeling a little overwhelmed

I think I could handle the million other things going on in my life right now that are scary, but there's something wrong with my cat. He's doing this odd behavioral thing where he kneads for several minutes at a time, alternately standing up and laying down and when he's laying down, he shakes his leg a bit. This goes on and on and on until he finally gets comfortable and lays there. But, if he gets up to lay down somewhere else, it starts all over again. This is completely abnormal behavior for him and he's becoming obsessive about it. I took him to the vet, and we thought he might have some kind of infection that was making him uncomfortable, so I started giving him antibiotics and now he's not eating. So the vet wants me to stop the antibiotics and see if he starts eating again.

You know, I stood by the bed while my grandfather died without falling apart, but whenever my cat gets sick, I start to go crazy. Really crazy. Anxious. I had to call my shrink. Who recommended tranquilizers. Yes, that's how bad it is. And I'm not at work. Why? I just can't make myself go. I know. I should go. Get my mind off the cat. But, I'm sleepy. So, I think I'll take a nap instead. Or maybe I should knit. That is usually soothing.

Oil change

Today, I have to take the car to get the oil changed. Sadly, in the almost 5 years we have owned this car, this is the first time _I_ have taken it for an oil change. John almost always does it, but he's out of town (on a job interview--wish him luck!), and we're way past due and he can't do it on the weekend because I have to use the car to get to the Stephenson Co. Fiber Art Fair (it's good to have priorities).

So, I'm bringing my sockpal socks to knit on and a book. I am starting to feel like a real Knitter because I just did a search to see if there were yarn stores nearby (there weren't--at least not close). This has become a habit with me; if I'm going somewhere novel, I'll check to see if there is a yarn store nearby. Some might call this a sickness, but others....well, okay, they would also probably call it a sickness but one that they suffer from, too. :)

Can't resist

I found a contest: name five places you've knit besides at home and a yarn shop (I've never actually knit at a yarn shop).

1. In Church (Chartres Cathedral, France, St. John's in Independence, IA , Bond Chapel, Chicago, IL; the church where my brother-in-law got married)
2. BV's thesis defense
3. My sister's high school graduation
4. the Lyric Opera House during Rigoletto (and another opera I can't think of right now)
5. Conferences: Yeast Cell Biology, Cold Spring Harbor, NY; American Society for Cell Biology, San Francisco, CA

No religious content at all

For those of you who stepped out during the Easter marathon, I've gotten all that out of my system (for now) so it's okay to come back.

I have been having one of those days--you know, where everything seems to be conspiring against you. It's 9:16pm and I'm still in lab. That's the kind of day it has been. The good news, though, is that I actually might have data! Yes, that elusive goal. Something for once worked like it was supposed to.

Sockpal socks: I am still knitting both on 1 circ. I've got 5-6 inches done on the foot--only around 3 more to go! I may actually get these done! I really like how they are turning out. I tried really hard to make them identical, but alas, they will be fraternal with regard to the colorway. I'm not real worried about it, though. I'm really liking this baby cable rib. It's easy and makes a nice pattern.

Did I mention I'm still at lab? I think I will correct that by going home now.

Alleluia!

Holy Saturday is almost a non-event in the cycle of Holy Week. It is the day that Jesus lay dead in the tomb. He was busy, of course, decending into hell to gather all the good souls who died before he did (Abraham, Moses, etc.--you didn't really think God was just going to leave them there, did you?). However, all the potential witnesses were off observing the Sabbath, so there's really no information in the Bible about what was going on that day.

However, on Holy Saturday, in the evening, we celebrate the Easter Vigil. Properly, it should end just after midnight so that you are actually celebrating Easter on Easter day (though, as Kristen pointed out, if you are Orthodox, you're there until dawn--that's dedication for you!). However, it depends on the parish whether or not you make it to midnight (it's sort of like "midnight" Mass on Christmas Eve; it does seem ridiculous to call the church to ask what time midnight Mass is, but in some churches, it starts at 9pm and only lasts an hour, and therefore isn't really at midnight). I just got back from Vigil Mass, so obviously we didn't make it to midnight. However, it is Easter for us now, no matter what the clock says (which is good because now I can have cookies and candy)!

The Vigil is pretty amazing, as far as Masses go. We start off with a fire and if the church is big enough, they'll actually have it in church. Tonight, we had it outside. Then, the Easter candle is lit. This candle will be lit during the entire season of Easter--yes Easter is a season, it lasts 50 days--and at baptisms and all baptismal candles will be lit from it. Then we all light little candles and process into the church and the priest chants "Christ our Light," and we respond, "Thanks be to God," and we all take our seats and blow our candles out and sit in darkness during 7 Old Testament readings which take us through the history of the Israelites and through some of the prophesies and 6 psalms--one between each reading. Then, we get to sing the Gloria! We have not said the Gloria prayer through all of Lent, and now the lights come up and we belt it out, Glory to God in the Highest and peace to His people on Earth! Then, there is a reading from one of the letters of Paul and then we sing the Alleluia (which we also haven't said all during Lent) and we have the Gospel reading. The priest gives the homily, then we get to the really special event--the initiation of the catechumens.

In the very early days of the Church, only adults entered the Church and only after a long period of study. They received the sacraments of initiation--Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist--at the Easter Vigil Mass. This tradition is upheld by the adults who enter the Church today. We had several baptisms, one guy who was already baptized and received first Eucharist, and a bunch of confirmations. It's so wonderful to see people come to the Church of their own free will. I have heard enough anti-Catholic sentiment that I am always amazed when someone who wasn't born into the Church joins the Church.

After the sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation, we have the Liturgy of the Eucharist--just like we usually do--and the newly baptized and confirmed receive their first Eucharist and then the rest of us come up for communion. Then, there's a final prayer and the closing hymn, which inevitably is "Jesus Christ is Risen Today."

Easter, the commercial holiday, probably has more pagan symbolism than Christmas. The bunnies, the eggs--symbols of fertility. And, of course, the holiday itself gets its name from a pagan holiday. But, Easter is the soul of Christianity. As it says in one of my favorite books, A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving, "Anyone can be sentimental about the Nativity; any fool can feel like a Christian at Christmas. But Easter is the main event; if you don't believe in the resurrection, you're not a believer." And it's true. It's easy to believe in a baby being born. It's unfathomable to imagine the kind of love that could cause someone to allow himself to be tortured for hours and hours, then executed, but it's unfortunately easy to believe that someone can be tortured in that manner. But to believe that someone came back to life after death.... And it was a real death. A true death. His body was no longer alive and His soul was separated from his body (making that little trip to hell). That is the Mystery of Easter. And if you can't believe that, then you can't call yourself a Christian.

Good Friday

Good Friday memorializes the day that Jesus was killed--at 3:00 in the afternoon. The scripture indicates that people were surprised that He died so quickly. Crucifixion was not a short death but a slow agonizing one. The Bible says that they sent people out to break the legs of the people on the crosses. I never really understood what that meant, and as a kid, I thought it meant that they took them off the crosses then broke their legs so they couldn't go anywhere. The reality is more horrifying. Apparently, after awhile a person's arms could no longer hold them up properly, but if they sagged, the person would start to suffocate because they couldn't breathe properly. They used their feet to push themselves back up into position so they could breathe. Breaking their legs prevented that, so they died more quickly by suffocation (though many people preferred a quick death by suffocation to a slow one, so if your family had money, they might pay off the soldiers to break your legs).

Because of the terrible nature of His death, the cross was not used as a religious symbol for a very long time. Think of it this way, if your religious hero had been killed by hanging, would you want to wear a little noose around your neck in rememberance? Now, of course, the cross is such a powerful symbol of Christianity, a little cross by a person's name on a tomb indicates their faith. People wear crosses--I myelf have three. However, most Protestant denominations prefer the empty cross while Catholics prefer the crucifix--a cross with a corpus (body). I think it shows a difference in the emphasis placed on the events of the Passion--are we saved because He died, or are we saved because He rose again?

The cross plays a very important role in Good Friday services in the Catholic Church. I say services, and not Mass, deliberately; Good Friday is the one day of the year that Mass is not celebrated anywhere in the world. Mass is a celebration and Good Friday is not a day of celebration, it is a day of repentance and mourning. It is a day of fast and abstinence. There will be communion, but it will be eucharist that was consecrated yesterday for the purpose of using it on Good Friday. Much of the service will focus on the cross. The priest will process in and lay prostrate in front of it (face down on the floor). When this happens, all of the congregation kneels. You kneel until the priest gets up and there is no proscribed amount of time for the prostration. The Passion is read and when we come to the part where it says, "When Jesus had taken the wine, he said, "It is finished." And bowing his head, he handed over the spirit," we all kneel again until the priest decides it's been long enough. Finally, there is the veneration of the cross.

I had never attended a Good Friday service until my sophomore year in college. I had absolutely no idea what it entailed. Therefore, I was not at all prepared for the veneration of the cross. A friend of mine described her first experience once by saying her first thought was, "My God, my Protestant friends are right--we are pagan--they're kissing the cross!" That's pretty much what I thought, too. Frankly, I can't think of anything Catholics do that more closely relates to paganism than the veneration of the cross. Like the statues in our churches, however, we are not worshiping the cross. We are worshiping Jesus and remembering his sacrifice for us and veneration of the cross is showing our respect for the instrument of his death which brought about our salvation.

Not all that long ago, there was another ritual on Good Friday: as one, the assembly cursed the "pefidous Jews" who killed our savior. This has never happened in my lifetime--it was discontinued as a result of Vatican II--and I was honesty shocked and ashamed when I found out about it. Having been raised post-Vatican II, I was taught to respect the Jews and I was absolutely never told to blame them for the death of Jesus. It was made very clear to me that Jesus's death was necessary for our salvation, that He planned for it, knew it would happen, and did nothing to stop it, so great was His love for us. It honestly never even occured to me to blame anyone or anything other than the depravity of humanity that had made His death necessary.

Which was why I was terribly confused about all the bruhaha that surrounded Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ." To me, it was simply an enactment of the events of the Bible. I couldn't understand what the Jewish community was so afraid of. It seemed like their primary concern was that they showed the Jewish leaders as orchestrating the crucifixion and I didn't see how Jews could expect that to be altered since that was what was written in the Bible.

Poor, naive me. I had no idea that my Church had a history of staging Passion plays during Holy Week, then going out in mad, angry mobs, storming the Jewish ghettos, and beating Jews to within inches of their lives (or to death). Granted, this was hundreds of years ago, but it's not the kind of thing you forget if you were of the people who were being beaten. I had no idea that my Church had a history of cursing Jews every Good Friday, of promoting the idea that Jews murdered our savior, that every great cathedral in Europe has some sort of statue or painting or stained glass window to symbolize how terrible Judaism was. I was in for quite a rude awakening. I found all of this out because I had Jewish friends who got me involved in interfaith dialog groups and seminars--one specifically about the movie. To say that I was shocked and horrified is an understatement. It reminded me of how I felt when I left the holocaust museum in DC--terribly ashamed.

The Church has made some amends. And certainly future generations of Catholics will be just as naive about the persecution of Jews that the Church engaged in for so long, so they will never have that model to emulate (although it is not the best policy to conceal the mistakes of the past). I feel though, as a member of the Church, I should offer some penance for this travesty. So, I tell every Jewish person I know about what is taught to us about the crucifixion. I also tell them the current official doctrine, so that they can defend themselves against crazy Christians who tell them they murdered Jesus. To all the Jewish people who read this (if there are any), here is what you should say,

"Because of the sin of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, there was a rift between humanity and God. According to your scripture, Jesus came to heal that rift and that could only be accomplished by his death. Therefore, if Jesus had not died, humanity would not be saved and would not be completely reconciled with God. A small number of Jews at the time were made to be the instruments of the death that Jesus himself planned. As it is, we have done you a favor, and you're very welcome."

Then run like hell.

Alternately, you could address a completely ridiculous accusation with an equally ridiculous answer, "He did rise again, you know. It's not like we did any permanent damage."

Then run like hell.

Holy Thursday

Having not done much introspection during Lent, I've decided to take the next few days to do so. If you hate reading about anything religious, please come back on Monday when I will likely have this all out of my system by then. :)

This evening we celebrate the Last Supper. Which, incidently, was a Passover meal (happy Passover to Jews everywhere, I hope you had a wonderful Seder last night!), Jesus having come to Jerusalem for Passover. At the Last Supper, Jesus washed the disciples feet. This was to symbolize that he was their servant. Therefore, Mass tonight will have some foot washing component. In large parishes, perhaps the priest might symbolically wash the feet of a few people. Or maybe they will have the catechumens (those adults who are entering the Church at Easter Vigil) wash the feet of their sponsors. In other parishes, a few of the Church leaders will wash the feet of the entire congregation. I've been to services where everyone participates in foot washing--you wash the feet of the person in line before you, then sit down to have your feet washed by the person in line behind you. This is symbolic washing, by the way, just holding your foot over a basin, having a little water poured on it, then having it toweled off.

Symbolic or no, I don't like it. More because I have issues with strangers touching me than because I don't want to pour water on someone's feet. And I feel self-concious about my feet in particular. And they are ticklish. Perhaps if I had gone to this Mass as child, I wouldn't have a problem with it as an adult because it would just be The Way It Is, but alas, I am neurotic about it.

I wonder how the disciples handled it? I am thinking what it would be like if I went to dinner at my advisor's house and suddenly, he says he's going to wash our feet? I can picture me and my lab mates all looking at each other like, "What the hell is he thinking?" and in the meantime saying things like, "That's okay, B--you know what, I just washed my feet before I left the house; if I had known beforehand, well, anyway it's perfectly okay, I get what you're saying, I understand, no need to go overboard here." To my recollection, there's no account of what the desciples thought about the whole thing.*

Of course, the evening ends with Jesus being betrayed by Judas (that's where the term betrayed by a kiss comes from--Judas tells the authorities that the man that he embraces is the one) and hauled off to jail. So, after the foot washing and communion, the altar is stripped in preparation for Good Friday. Every bit of ornamentation is removed (Protestants might say ornamentation is from the devil anyway, but we're not going to go into that here)--everything. I've seen parishes remove the altar table itself! The blessed Eucharist (which Catholics believe is the actual body of Christ, also a topic of discussion for another day) is removed from the tabernacle (a little house where it is usually kept) and placed in the "altar of repose" which is usually some side chapel--not part of the main church. There is usually time for adoration of the blessed sacrament, perhaps even for the entire night (I know that might sound a little pagan, but since the sacrament is Christ, it is actually adoration of Christ). The altar is left bare and empty, ready for Good Friday services which usually features a very large cross.

I have not yet decided if I'm going to go to Mass this evening. It depends on how I feel about the foot washing and how guilty I feel about not going.

Oh, right, knitting. I finished the heels on both of my sockpal socks and have actually put both socks on the singular circular needle and am knitting them at the same time. It's a little complicated, but I can manage.

*The Bible often leaves out potentially interesting bits of conversation. For instance, in the story of Abraham and Isaac, it says that Abraham brought his son to the place of sacrifice and then tied him up and was about to kill him when God stopped him. But you don't get to hear the story from Isaac's perspective. Did Abraham have to chase him around a bit before being able to tie him up and put him on the altar? "Father, why are you tying me up? Father, what are you doing with that big knife? Father, are you out of your mind???? Hey! Help! My father's trying to kill me!"

G is for....

Ghiradelli!

I adopted Ghiradelli and his sister, Godiva, (I named them, btw, can you tell I have a thing for chocolate?) from the Chicago City Pound in Jan. 2002. Neither of them was in very good shape and I sincerely think my vet thought neither one of them was long for this world. Ghiradelli looked especially bad--emaciated (you could feel his vertebrae when you pet him) and his fur was all funky; it was not particularly pleasant to pet him. Both of them had rotten teeth and Ghiradelli eventually had 7 teeth removed and needs to have another three pulled in the near future. Ghiradelli had a heart rate that was half that of a normal cat. And these cats did not come in off the street--their owner brought them in.

This entry would've been called Godiva and Ghiradelli, but in the fall of 2003, Godiva became very, very ill. She was having difficulty moving around and when I took her to the vet, I found out she had Feline Infectious Peritonitis (FIP). There is no cure. She was suffering and so with a heavy heart, I had her put to sleep. My eyes are tearing up as I write this. She was a good kitty and had just finally opened up to me and then she was gone.

Poor Ghiradelli was left alone and I could not get him a new kitty companion. There is no doubt he was exposed to FIP and he remains a carrier of the disease. I did get him vaccinated, but the odds of that working are very slim. So, the virus lays dormant inside him and one day may arise and I will lose him, too.

But, enough of this sadness! Ghiradelli is here now and he is a wonderful cat. He is incredibly laid back and relaxed and very friendly. When new people show up he comes out to check them out. He'd probably lead a thief straight to the family silver. He is a "mature" kitty; I'll never know his exact age, but when I got him, he was probably about 10 years old which would make him 14 now. But, he's still very playful and active and he will get those damn pigeons who sit on the windowsill if it is the last thing he does. He's useless with bugs--he just plays with them, he doesn't eat them. He's not so into catnip--he could take it or leave it.

Ghiradelli and my hubby have something resembling a sibling rivalry. John refuses to let the kitty sleep on his pillow and Ghiradelli defiantly gets up on the table no matter how much John yells at him (though it might work better if John didn't just come into the dining room and point at the cat and say, "Hey! Yes, you!" [because G will look over at him like, who are you talking to?] "Shoo! Get down! Bad kitty! Shoo!" while G just lays his ears back and pretends not to notice until John gets right up to him, then G will proceed to walk across the entire table before getting down). But I know he secretly loves the kitty. Once, while I was at a conference John told me over the phone that he didn't sleep very well because, "kitty was snoring" (he never uses G's name--it's just "kitty"), and he "tried poking him a few times to get him to stop." I guess it never occurred to him to put the cat out of the room.

Ghiradelli has grown quite attached to his people and definitely notices when one of us is gone for a few days. He's been known to sit and watch the door in the evenings, waiting for the missing party to return home. G likes to be in the same room as me, wherever that is (including the bathroom). He really likes to be on me, especially if I'm reading something (he'll be on the reading), or knitting (so he can bat at the ends of the needles and get tangled up in the yarn and generally be a pest), or eating, or well, just about anything. He particularly likes to eat his dinner (I give him a small amount of canned catfood twice a day in addition to his dry food--it's hard for him to eat the dry food because of his teeth) when we are having our dinner. If I come home late, having eaten dinner somewhere else, he has often not eaten very much of his dinner, so I'll go sit in the dining room so he'll eat.

My family has always had cats and I have always found them to be great companions. I've never had a cat that wasn't friendly; I don't know if that's something to do with me personally or if I've just been really lucky.

I know that my time with Ghiradelli is limited. Even if he wasn't a carrier for FIP, he's getting up there in years. But I'm going to enjoy every minute he's a part of my life.

Progress

I am actually making progress on my sockpal socks. I finished the leg of the 2nd sock and started the heel. Then, I'll do the heel of the first sock and move on to the foot. I've decided to do them in parallel because I have a leeetle problem with 2nd sock syndrome. I just wish I had two circs of this size so I didn't have to keep putting the stitches on scrap yarn so I can use the needles on the other sock....

Tonight, I got to play around with an inexpensive ($80) digital microscope for a museum project I'm working on. It's a cute little thing and works amazingly well for the price. It even has image capture software and video recording. I'm thinking about putting it on my Christmas wish list. :) That reminds me, as a kid, I always put a microscope on my wishlist for Xmas but I never ever got one. :( My parents really weren't into educational toys and I think they thought I would get tired of it. Boy, I bet they feel stupid now! This little toy is nothing compared to the scopes I get to use at work, but it's still pretty fun. Besides, I can't take random crap and put it on the scope at work (okay, I would, but it doesn't belong to our lab--it belongs to a group of labs and we have to pay for the time we spend on it). Hmmmm....I wonder what yarn looks like magnified 200 times......

Socks

I am going forward with my sockpal/cirque-du-socks socks in the baby cable rib from Sensational Knitted Socks. I've gotten the leg of one done and am working on the cuff of the second one.

I'm getting a little neurotic about these socks. I really want my sockpal to like them and I especially want them to fit. I've ripped them out about a dozen times by now and I'm still freaking out about the fit. If these were for me or anyone I actually knew, I wouldn't be so obsessed. I guess I want to make a good impression on the knitblogging community, so these socks are taking on a lot more importance than they really should for my own good. Last night, I was worrying about them again (and seriously considering ripping them out yet again and starting over) and Roommie told me to stop obsessing and keep knitting--they are fine. I guess I needed that.

I wish I could show you a picture but I stayed home from work today because I was still feeling ill this morning so I am stuck at home with a standard dial-up connection and don't feel like waiting the 2 hours it would take to upload the picture. I will post one later in the week.