Felt Clogs

In early Spring, I hauled my mom to New York City with me for a day out on the town. We went to the Natural History Museum, ate sushi, walked through Central Park, devoured far too much European goodness at my favorite Ukrainian diner, Veselka, and we spent some time in Knitty City.

I knew I couldn't buy any yarn -- I had previously made a promise to myself that I would diminish the stash significantly before purchasing more. Nothing prevented me from stocking up on patterns, however. After all, how could I use the stash without an idea of something to actually knit? 

The clerk quickly pointed out to me a pile of patterns on sale. I scored this one for Felt Clogs on clearance. 

After our road trip and the Bullion Beach Blanket, I wanted to make something quick and easy, so I found some 100% wool in the stash and proceeded to make a pair. 

Do you see the size of these things?! That foot wearing the hand knit blueish green socks on the right -- that's my size 10 (!) 

(Do not fear dear reader, my left foot is also there, simply inside the other clog...)

I will admit that I used a larger sized needle than the pattern called for, but these things were ridiculously huge. 

However, they felted to near perfection.

They were just a touch too small for my big feet, so I gave them to my mom instead. I had planned to make her a pair in any case. Considering she is the one who handed down to me the Bigfoot genes in the first place (which then multiplied and gave me bigger feet than her), I thought it only right that she got the first pair I made. Fitting, therefore, that she was also with me when I bought the pattern in the first place.

These things are fantastic. And considering I bought the pattern and yarn on clearance, they only cost me a whopping $3 to make (not factoring in the needles, which I think I may have gotten in South Africa for a mere $2 for another project.) 

I love it when thrifting meets knitting. Together, they make quite a pair. 

Orange Marmalade Cake

Poppy seeds remind me of Ukraine. I ate more than my fair share of poppy seed layered cake in that country. I wanted to bake something equivalent over here in America, so I purchased what seemed like a ton of poppy seeds and scoured my numerous books for a recipe. 

I never did find the Ukrainian one. But I had all of these poppy seeds, and I also had a neat vintage bundt pan waiting to be used, so instead I made an orange marmalade cake. I have made it several times this year for guests, and even people who don't like oranges or marmalade (or even poppy seeds) loved it.

It became my go-to dessert, much like my potato salad has become my go-to side dish to bring to a picnic. 

Today, I made it again for my knitting guild party. The first time I ever baked it, the power went out 10 minutes after I put it in the oven. I don't remember why it went out -- but I do remember the cake didn't turn out at all. I needed to start the whole thing over once the power came back on.

I used the giant bundt pan I found at a thrift store for only $2. The recipe called for a 'large' bundt pan... but the cake turned out super short. The recipe was from a South African magazine. Apparently their large isn't quite so big as this thing:

While the cake tasted great, it was somewhat short. The next time, I used a smaller bundt pan I also found during a thrifting hunt -- the cake came out the perfect size. 

Today, while making it again, I don't know whether I was more excited to use that small bundt pan, or the juicer I scored during a weekend antique hunt. 

They both made me happy. The whole process made me again thankful for my own little kitchen. The finished cake made me smile, too. The gals at the knitting club hardly made a dent, but I won't be complaining when I have a slice for breakfast. I'm sure my elderly neighbor will also be thrilled when I give him a piece or two, tomorrow.

I'm still on the hunt for the Ukrainian poppy seed cake recipe, though. This cake is great, but it's not quite the same.

Snowfall and Snowflowers

After a solid week of rain in Idaho, it finally snowed. 

I finished knitting these fun fried chicken mitts just in time: 

To celebrate the true arrival of winter, I also crocheted my friend a snowflower: 

I love watching snow falling from a window -- unless that window is in the airport. I got stuck today in Minneapolis for an extra five hours. Sadly, I checked my bag with all of that new glorious yarn AND my needles. Even the mittens are in there.

I don't know what I was thinking -- I even bought some sock yarn and new needles especially for the trip home. Then before I knew it, I had checked my bag WITH said needles and yarn (and just about anything else one might like to have on a long layover -- like a toothbrush...) Clearly my coffee had not yet kicked in this morning, because I found myself telling multiple people at various check-in counters more than once today: 'Truly, I travel more often than it appears.'

And yet here I am, at a random hotel somewhere between an airport and home, without any yarn or needles, using an awful travel toothbrush that Delta so kindly gave me (along with the hotel bill), and now I have to wear the same socks tomorrow because I didn't knit myself a new pair along the way.

Thankfully, I remembered to carry my laptop with me. The chargers for every device I own, however, are also in luggage limbo.

 

Pilgrim Boots and Second Thanksgiving

In early fall, I knit these fabulous legwarmers. I had a friend model them for me, along with a pair of boots I purchased for my recent trip. 

I have strayed far from my college Doc Martin and Birkenstock days... and while I wear the latter obsessively over the summer, I usually wear boots with heels when I go out in colder weather. (I am short. Every little bit helps.) When I planned to visit a friend in Idaho, the Sailor suggested I get a more practical pair for both the plane and the trip out West. 

My friend's son thought they looked like pilgrim boots. 

I concur a little, but I'll bet the pilgrims didn't have boots quite so comfortable. 

I also thought the pilgrim boots comment was somewhat appropriate, since last night, we celebrated Thanksgiving again. 

There were cranberries, and mashed potatoes and stuffing and a turkey and of course... pumpkin pie. I have made lots of pies in my life, but for some reason, I have never once made a pumpkin pie. 

So, for Second Thanksgiving, I made the pumpkin pie. This is the work of art, fresh out of the oven. We also experimented and cooked the filling without the crust as a sort of custard. It too, was fabulous

Maybe it's funny that we celebrated Thanksgiving a second time, two weeks after the first one. But really, why shouldn't we celebrate Thanksgiving more than once? Every day, we can find things to be thankful for. 

I am thankful for many things, but today, I'm especially grateful for my boots. It's been raining all week, and now today the snow finally started falling. 

My boots, paired with last year's woolly knit socks similar to these, create the perfect winter footwear.  

The Dishes

Dishes are an inevitable part of life. We eat. Then we eat again, and again, and again. And unless you eat out three times a day, or use paper plates in your house daily for every meal (or you eat a meal over the sink, which I have been known to do on occasion when the Sailor is not home) then you need to do the dishes at some point. 

Modern conveniences mean many of us in the Western world simply rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher. Unless you have a grimy pot, no elbow grease is required. 

I've never had a dishwasher in my life. I'm not sure I ever want one. I'm one of those people who doesn't mind doing the dishes. To me, it's always been part of the whole 'cook it, then clean it up' process. 

To make the process more enjoyable, I employ good soap (always natural -- I have a weird allergy to any type of blue dish soap and many green ones) and I like to use fun sponges or dishcloths to clean up.

I had quite a bit of yarn leftover from the Bullion Beach Blanket, so I whipped up some basic garter stitch dishcloths and crocheted tawashis -- perfect for scrubbing. 

Recently, I gave a few to a friend as a gift. I smiled, as I did the dishes at her house, using the bright green dishcloth to clean the counter.