Want to know what I did today?

Today, after getting two children breakfasted, bathed and dressed and delivered to school and nonna's respectively I then

* wrote a report on the activity-based costing model I did for work last week,
* prepared the financial statements for two local senior citizens centres for two financial years
* identified the costs of building maintenance and vandalism for twelve of the local council buildings for the past three years ... and ..come on wake up ... the knitting part is coming....
* Learned how to do cable stitch knitting by making almost a whole tiny sock from the spring Interweave Knits magazine.

I also did several loads of washing, made one dinner, cleaned one kitchen and did not drink one single glass of wine.

Want to know what I'm doing tomorrow???

SFA.

New Arrivals

RIMG0034
Originally uploaded by ailsa1.

This week I have been busy at the office. I would like to find a job where I can knit and earn at least double what I earn now to fund the yarn habit. Anyone got any ideas?

Let us examine this badly taken photo. On the bottom are three spools of a yarn I bought on ebay. It is a rayon/cotton/silk blend and I have no idea what to do with it.

In the middle row on each end there are two balls of Alpaca I got from Berrima recently. They are so soft and snuggly. I am making my neice a cardigan with that stuff.

In the middle is a big ball of pink handdyed mohair. I got this at a yarn swap yesterday at snb. Actually, if the truth be known, Sharon felt sorry for me and snuck this back in the yarn swap pile because by the time my number was selected the pickings were mighty slim. I selected some purple faux fur yarn to repay her for her kindness. She was delighted, and more than happy to have forfeit the pink handdyed for the purple faux fur. I'm sure she's knitting it right now.

Anyway, enough snarky. I left the best bit till last. There is a girl called Jussi knits. I posted a comment on her blog to the effect that I liked the yarn she bought. So that girl sent me two sample pots of these denim yarns. They are indigo dyed cottons, like the actual stuff they make jeans with and I see Magknits t-shirt coming from them. Anyway, if that wasn't nice enough to send me some of her yarn to try, she also put in there some really beautiful beaded stitch markers! I don't own any beautiful beaded stitch markers (well I do now) and I was seriously floored by her kindness and generosity. There was some chocolate frogs too!(but I ate them) And a lovely card as well. So if you're reading this Justine - thank you thank you thank you - what a great person you are!

Proving once again that knitbloggers are in fact the milkmaids of human kindness.

Snap!

I had about 10cm to go on the wrappy vest thing on Friday. Last weekend I had 10 cm to go before I cast off the stitches for the second sleeve and I knitted in the car on the way to Berrima and finished those 10 cm in about fifteen minutes. I have knitted it for a few hours over the weekend and I still have 10 cm to go. I have used about 1 1/2 balls of yarn this weekend but still 10 cm to go. I can't explain it.

But Harlot can. This could be the only thing the famous one and I have in common. I'm going to do one hour more, hopefully that will be enough to get me out of this black hole.

Here’s your weekly sociological treatise -

This week it’s a lesson in plumbing

Where I am we are in the midst of our worst drought ever. If something isn’t done soon, we may run out of water. It could be global warming. Maybe just a cruel twist of fate.

The politicians say don’t panic lets just see what happens. It might rain you know.
The water companies say if you don’t wash the car or the garden it’ll be just fine.
The meteorologists say that ain’t going to happen.
The academics say a small increase in population in our cities will tip us over the edge and we will run out.
Sustainability experts say there’s no water shortage, but there is a critical water management problem.
Supporters of desalination say build desalination plants.
Supporters of pipeline systems say pump it up from Tasmania.
Sheep farmers watch their sheep starve to death, they can’t afford the bullets to shoot them.
Wheat farmers don’t plant any crops at all, no point.

I guess when they built these cities on this land they didn’t figure that we would ever need to plan for water consumption. After all, this country is very very big and there are hardly any people here. Nobody thought the population would expand so concentrically around the coastal cities, or the total aridity of the centre of the country, or what effect the absence of rain might have in the future.

Unfortunately our recent governments have watched the water supply dwindle over recent years and put the whole issue in the too hard basket. To put it in Monty Python terms – this government is completely unblemished by planning.

When I turn on the taps at home, water comes out. There’s water in the toilet too.
When I have a shower, all that water runs down the pipes and into the ocean. Same with the washing machine. When I flush , it goes down the same pipes and into the ocean. And there’s the problem. In Australia, our sewer outflow pipes and our water outflow pipes are one and the same.

But, if we had different pipes for the ‘grey’ water and separate pipes for the sewer, then we could recycle the grey water and pump it back into the system.

But that can’t happen because no government is ever going to spend the money on the infrastructure required to get a system like that up and running. So we toy with largely untested and piecemeal solutions like desalination and cartage.

And in the meantime it still hasn’t rained.

So, think about us while you complain about the rain – and if you know of any rain-making schemes, then please let me know.

more drought stories

Have I ever mentioned that I am an Accountant?

Well I am one. And not only by profession, I am an accountant by nature.

You would think this would make me excellent with money. Not so. It makes me unafraid of debt risk - which is not the same thing.

By accountant by nature I mean that I have to classify objects. All the cans in the cupboard have to be in lines. All the glass jars of stuff have to be together. The fridge has to be organised. The spices must be aligned. Sad though I know it is, everything in the house must be classified according to the secret system that I alone understand. All other systems are wrong. So, husband of mine, don't think about trying to put the groceries away - you don't understand the system. And the system is important. Very.

Interestingly enough, I don't care if the beds are unmade, the laundry is in a pile on the laundry floor or the dishwasher needs stacking. But woe-betide anyone who messes up the pantry.

Please don't tell me this is a rare form of mental illness. People already deeply suspect this about me.

Anyway, back on the accountant business. I have not been working for a few months as I am taking a break to be the mummy at home. Which I really really love. Every day feels like playing hooky.

But next week I'm doing a little consultancy thing for my old work. This means I'll have a chance to sort out the email bounce you may be experiencing. It also means that I may be neglecting the blog a little, it may be a test of my commitment to it.

I am working on a shrug from a patttern I made up. It's coming out pretty decently so far, I'm hoping to get a pic of me shrugging in the shrug up here this weekend. I love shrugs. Not sure how they go with my big fedoobadas, but I love shrugs anyway.

Off to knit now.

If you are hungry don't read this post

Every week I do the same thing. I go to the local fruit and veg shop and upon entering the door with the trolley, the soul of a mad gourmet chef overtakes me.

And so it replays over and over again, week after week:

Ohh look at the potatoes. Need some big brushed ones for mashing, some pontiac for baking - and what's that up the back? Let me looky - aww cute little tiny baby potatoes (or King Edwards, or those tiny black nubby ones), must get some of those for a herby potato salad.

Brocolli, cauliflower, carrots. Essentials for the good health of the kids.

Tomatoes, oh yum. Truss tomatoes for french bread bruschetta. a punnet of cherry tomatoes for salads.

Herbs. I must have some coriander for a fresh salsa. And mint for the Thai beef salad. And chives for the potatoes. And continental parsley for the bruschetta. And English spinach for the eggs florentine.

Asian greens. Must have at least three types. One for the stirfry. One to steam with ginger and soy. One to have as salad.

Bean shoots, alfalfa, snow pea sprouts.

Onions, garlic, carrots, eggplant (homemade baba ganoush), beetroot (middle eastern beetroot dip), green beans, zuchinni, cucumber, sweet potato.

AND I HAVEN'T EVEN REACHED THE FRUIT YET!!

Apples, granny smiths and gala. Mandarins - in season and yum. Fresh pineapple - I'll do a salsa with that and some mint and coriander onions and vodka (Jacqueline I suggest you immediately try this one), mango just because I love it, lemons for the fish I'm going to steam in the fish kettle with some of those herbs, limes for cocktails and sorbet. Fresh coconut to grate on the thai curries, blood oranges to boil and serve with the passionfruit caramel sauce.

So it goes. My trolley groans with the weight of all this goodness. I can feel the vitamins and goodness in my blood already as I pay for it all.

And every week I throw almost all of last weeks fruit and vegetables away, having spent the week careening from swimming to school to medical appointments to whatever else. Every night's dinner is usually very similar; grilled steak or chicken breast on the George Foreman and steamed carrots and brocolli and super quick mashed potatoes, possibly with instant gravy. "It's boring," I say to the kids, "but at least it's not bad for you." Hublander (long story) works such long hours that he is grateful for anything he doesn't have to prepare himself after his commute.

I hate myself for it. Such waste. Such excess. Starving children in Africa and all that. I am deeply ashamed. If only the spirit of the chef didn't disappear the minute I get out of the fruitshop. If only he'd hang around and cook something. But alas, he doesn't. I return from the grocer alone - I am excellent in theory and a bit shaky in practice. What a shame.

Knitting Content

I am conscious this blog is supposed to be a knitting blog so below are some knitting items and one new haircut.

Wrap vest

RIMG0025
Originally uploaded by ailsa1.

Current progress on Rare Yarns versatile wrap vest - I doubt it will ever get cold enough for me to wear this.

Childs poncho and lonely sock

RIMG0030
Originally uploaded by ailsa1.

This is from leftover yarn from the market bag

socks

RIMG0027
Originally uploaded by ailsa1.

The socks are from my Secret Pal gifted sock yarn

The Aforementioned Haircut

RIMG0024
Originally uploaded by ailsa1.

appearances are decieving

Sometimes I am a bit of a paradox. I presume most people who know me would say that I was and outgoing and confident person. I would say I am a loudmouth who speaks first, thinks later and often puts her foot in it. I am compassionate and tolerant (but I can't tolerate intolerance) and quite sure of myself on an intellectual level. But the appearance, well, I just am not that confident on that front. However, a few bizzare things have happened to me over the past weeks have made me downright paraniod about my looks.

Thing 1 - I got mistaken for a twelve year old girl.

At the fibre festival thingo recently, I was chatting away to Kerrie of handspun glory fame when this delightful old duck dressed in an amazing handknitted ankle length coat of riotous colours approached me.

Lovely old duck: "my, aren't you growing up?"

Me (racking champagne soaked brain for a memory. Nothing. I thought maybe she was one of my high school teachers or something): "Um, where do you know me from?"

She became confused and looked at Kerrie, "isn't this the little girl who works in your shop?"

Kerrie - laughing like mad: "who, Julia!!? No, no, this is not Julia"

Me (to Kerrie): "How old is Julia, since she is growing up so nicely?"

Kerrie: "she's twelve!"

Imagine that, being mistaken for a twelve year old! I mean I have E cup boobs for heavens sake!

Methinks lovely old duck may have early onset dementia!

Thing 2 - a hairdresser's view of my current hairstyle
The following Friday I go to a five year old girl's birthday party at Hungry Jacks (well actually, I don't go, but my four year old goes and she doesn't drive. pity.)
During the cake cutting and singing of Happpy Birtday to you this happens:

Acquaintance (who happens to be a hairdresser): "Ailsa, come here for a second"
Me (grave mistake. I go over to her.)
Acquaintance: "I'm looking for models for my salon. We're doing some training and I'm getting a master cutter in to demonstrate a haircut. Then me and my apprentice will re-do the haircut, with the master cutter supervising. I think you'd be a great candidate for this because.............(wait for it)...................

YOUR HAIR IS DOING NOTHING FOR YOU HANGING DOWN AROUND YOUR FACE LIKE THAT."

Me: "Oh, don't look at it now! I haven't done a thing to it today"

Acquaintance: "but even when we were out the other night and it was done, I still think we could give you a better look - couldn't we Karen?"

Karen (she's a beauty ferapist - she told me so - does anyone know what that is?): "Yes I think you should do it"

Me: "excuse me I have to go now"

Later I enter the birthday girls house with kids in tow for a drink with the parents - I make a cluttering and noisy entrance - "Sorry I'm late, I had to go home and put this hat on because that hairdresser friend of yours said my hair looked SHIT"

Naturally hairdresser friend is sitting on the couch. I didn't see her when I came in. Oops.

Anyway I went on Tuesday night and had the extreme makeover. The master cutter snipped away for an hour and not a single person has noticed a difference in my haircut yet.


Thing 3 - I don't have a gap like this. Apparently you're supposed to.

Head over to the knitting revolutionary and find out what this is about.

I'd put the emoticon of a paper bag over the head but it won't work. dang these newfangled gadgets!