So we were up in Bellingham this weekend for a farming conference, which was awesome. On the way we left I-5 to take Chuckanut Drive instead. We ogled pretty farmland and were jealous of folks with several flat acres (though [...]]]> Today’s picture was yet another lame cop-out so I will tell some stories as well.

So we were up in Bellingham this weekend for a farming conference, which was awesome. On the way we left I-5 to take Chuckanut Drive instead. We ogled pretty farmland and were jealous of folks with several flat acres (though not of the fact that they are already muddy and starting to flood). Then we came upon a junk shop and we had time to spare so we went in. It was AWESOME. I always want to go to these places and I rarely do, which turns out to be a good thing as my house is already halfway to being a junk shop itself; I don’t need the encouragement. G. helps keep me from buying all the pretty empty bottles and also broken electronic equipment that I might be able to use someday.

But he is ALSO very good at encouraging me to buy the things that are most likely to be useful, like Singer Featherweight zigzag attachments for $2. There was also a beautiful old Singer [proto-?]Featherweight, whose serial number I took down and just looked up — it is from 1930!! — which G. did not try to encourage me to buy, and which I would have resisted if he had. I definitely don’t need another, but it is a gorgeous machine and they are wonderfully reliable, so if anyone out there wants an old Singer for $90, we’ll go back up and get it. eBay currently has one of the same vintage for $200+.

So anyway, we got some Featherweight accessories for me, and a draw knife which is for finishing wood, apparently, and a brush hook which is for cutting crap down or killing zombies, and an enameled canning kettle that is tall enough for a pint jar and wide enough for about eight of them**, and a cozy insulated flannel shirt for G. It was like $40 total. It was an excellent junk shop. Chuckanut Drive and Bow Hill Road, if you are up that way.

(Then we left the draw knife on the roof of the truck and it fell off so we had to turn around to find it again, and then turn around again.)

A ways up Chuckanut Drive, we passed the famous overlook point, and I said, “ooh, can we stop there on the way back and take pictures?” and G. said yes, of course. Then we rounded the next corner and came upon a WSDOT truck with hazards on and the driver just climbing out to inspect a rock slide and a truck made for shoving rocks** out of the road! He said it would just be a few minutes so we waited but then more rocks came down!!! so they closed the road and we turned around yet again.

Fun times!

(That’s when I stopped to take the daily photo(s), since we passed the turnaround again.)

So we went back down Chuckanut, just past the junk shop, to Bow Hill Road, and then we drove through some more nice farmland and cute houses before meeting back up with I-5.

There were no more adventures once we got back on I-5. I-5 does not promote adventure.

* In other words, not as big as we need, but bigger than most things we’ve got already.
** Presumably also for shoving snow, etc. And G. tells me it was also a dump truck. So I guess just a WSDOT work truck.

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So anyway, 11 days in, I am totally frustrated with my photo-taking options and I am cranky and I hate the photos and the ideas that I have for photos.

Anyone have any ideas? Anything about my mundane farmish sort of life that you want to see? Any advice for how to resolve the lousy photographer’s equivalent of writers’ block?

I finally went in to the doctor on Thursday for the fantastic sprawling injury of 4 weeks ago, and all I had to say was, “I was running for the bus in THOSE shoes [pointing to her Dansko clogs] and then [...]]]> I probably should spell it “re-embootened” but I love spelling & grammar pedantry so much.

I finally went in to the doctor on Thursday for the fantastic sprawling injury of 4 weeks ago, and all I had to say was, “I was running for the bus in THOSE shoes [pointing to her Dansko clogs] and then I did THAT [pointing to the foot anatomy poster with a little cartoon of a basketball player going for a shot and rolling his ankle same as I did].” She said (paraphrased), “ah yes. Don’t do that. Here’s another boot. Come back in three weeks.” The boot should fix the tendons that are still swollen, assuming they are still swollen because I walk about 2 miles a day with all various forms of public transportation I use — with the boot, the ankle is now immobile and the tendons will not wiggle around and stay inflamed. At least that’s the idea. If it doesn’t work, it’s an MRI to see if there are holes in them (!!) and if there are, it may be surgery with 6 weeks off the leg. Which, obviously, would really suck, a lot.

I meant to post about Baltimore. I liked it, which surprised me somewhat. The conference itself was at a hotel in the Inner Harbor, which was very touristy/conferency and had lots of rich people and that same tourist shop that’s in every city, with the mugs and the tshirts and caps and whatnot. The hotel I stayed in was about a mile away, so it was a pleasant walk through some downtown-type areas. On Friday, the last day of the conference, we skipped the closing plenary and went up to a neighborhood with a name (Mount Vernon?) where we went to the Contemporary Museum, and I saw little tiny exhibits from the Edible Estates guy (he just wrote a book that I always fondle at the bookstore but don’t really need) and one of those crazy avant-garde knitters, Lisa Anne Auerbach. The exhibit was about artists who’ve turned their art* into a storefront or some other form of small business, and hers was the only one that’s in Baltimore, so we went to it. It was called The Tract House, and it was totally awesome. You can (and should!) read PDF versions of all the tracts. Print out your favorite ones and scatter them about in public places!

THEN I went to this AWESOME library that I loved. It was the main branch of the Enoch Pratt Free Library, a built by a philanthropist who founded the library system, which appears not to be part of any city/county library systems, just its own thing that funds itself (?). Also there was an excellent exhibit of original illustrations from childrens’ books, all depicting specific places. It was a really nicely done exhibit. It looks like Baltimore was the last stop on its tour, unfortunately.

I am always thinking of little things that I would like to post about, but sort of fail when it comes to getting from ideas to documenting things to write, and then again when it comes from documenting to actually writing about them. Any ideas?

*I’m not totally clear on why build-a-veggie-garden-in-your-front-yard man is creating art with that, unless it’s just because it’s subversive, which, yeah.

I have long meant to make the Ribby Cardi — it’s [...]]]> I have been busy trying to get going with farm blog, and even more so, of course, with chores and work, and so neglecting this blog (again). But I have just started a new knitting project so I will be keeping notes on it here!

I have long meant to make the Ribby Cardi — it’s been on my list since I first started knitting; probably even since before I finished my first scarf. Then Megan made it and documented it very well, and I was inspired, though slow, obviously, to get started.

But I am going to Baltimore for the Usability Professionals Association conference, for work, and I needed something to bring. Most recently I have worked on a baby jacket in sock yarn, and a hat for Garth in sock yarn, so I wanted something that was not so fine, and Ribby Cardi was at the top of my Ravelry queue. So yesterday I picked up some Berroco Ultra Alpaca, which is a very soft worsted-weight that’s 50% alpaca and 50% Peruvian Highland wool (whatever that means). In black. I felt sad about choosing black because they had lots of gorgeous colors, but I couldn’t decide, and my black sweaters are starting to wear out, and I want this to be an easy project so that I will actually finish it, actually wear it, and actually have the morale to knit another sweater, ever.

Currently I am swatching and preparing to toss it in with the load of laundry I’m doing in preparation for packing. Taking a red-eye to Baltimore tomorrow night. Whee.

My sister was here this weekend and we went to see the Old 97s. The Showbox seems to have increased the number of all-ages shows they are putting on, which is fine because it means I can take her. They rocked, as always, and Rhett Miller is, also as always, extremely adorable. He doesn’t seem to have aged since the first time I saw him, which must have been 5-6 years ago. (Apparently I have written at least 3 posts about Rhett Miller and his hips. I also like the thing where he swings his arm around in a circle, most notably on “Barrier Reef.”) Anyway it was fun to take my sister, who had not been to a real show before, I don’t think. Good start.

In other news, I fell spectacularly all over the sidewalk on the Ave on Thursday. My walk to the bus consists of 2 blocks where I cannot see if there is a bus at my stop or not, and I am usually cutting it quite close, so I generally jog. This time I was thinking a bit too much about how silly I must have looked while jogging carrying my bags and coat and with my scarf swinging around, I guess, because I rolled my ankle pretty severely and went everywhere. My things stayed in my bags, and my bags stayed on me, but I think my shoulder bag did a full circle around my shoulder (like you always meant to do on the swing when you were small, but chickened out). My ankle is OK and walkable, though dramatic shades of purple; my other knee is skinned in two places, and very painful. This is, of course, awesome considering that I have to travel this way, and also attend a conference where I was planning to wear sandals and skirts. Classy.

“Uh, passengers on flight [whatever] to [wherever], this is your pilot speaking … I regret to inform you that they found something wrong with the plane during the walkaround inspection, and they are waiting on a mechanic to come check [...]]]> Overheard at SeaTac airport (can you call it overheard if it’s over the PA?) last Friday:

“Uh, passengers on flight [whatever] to [wherever], this is your pilot speaking … I regret to inform you that they found something wrong with the plane during the walkaround inspection, and they are waiting on a mechanic to come check it out. I can’t really give you an estimated time of departure; we just have to wait. I’d really like to give you a time, but I really just don’t know, and if I did tell you a time, I’d just be pulling it out of my … … … uh … um … out of … the back of my head.”

(song: “All is Grace,” crazy Will Oldham)