Faster, Higher, Smooshier

It's Knitting Olympics time!

This is my first year participating, which seems fitting as the games are on home soil.

For the uninitiated, the rules of the Knitting Olympics are as follows (from Stephanie Pearl-McPhee):

1. The project must be a challenge for you to complete in 16 days.
2. There are no rules about what a challenge would be. Like the real Olympics, there are many areas to compete in. If you are a new knitter, then a garter stitch baby sweater might do...If you are experienced, well. I've already considered Torino. Use your own conscience.
3. While this is intended to be somewhat difficult (like the Olympics) it is not intended to ruin your life. Don't set yourself up for failure. (Olympic athletes may cry, but they do not whine pitifully, sob and threaten members of their family with pointed sticks because they haven't slept in five days. ) This is intended to (like the Olympics) require some measure of sacrifice, and be difficult, but it should be possible to attain.
4. No casting on before the flame is lit.
5. Finish before the flame goes out.
6. You may swatch before the games. (I consider this "training.") 

I didn't get off to a great start... the band and I were the closing act at another opening night: that of the Festival du Voyageur.  It's a great Festival now in its 41st year - a celebration of French-Canadian heritage and history, an outdoor (yes, outdoor, in Canada, in February) event with snow sculpting, and dogsled races, and bands, and music, and traditional French-Canadian food, and beer.  It's a great excuse to get out of the house, and a great antidote to the oh-my-god-isn't-winter-over-yet depression that inevitably settles in this time of year. We're a Celtic-Rock band, but I guess we have enough French-Canadian spirit, because this was the third year in a row they've had us back. I'm glad, because it's always a blast, and I look forward to it every time.

All that to say that while knitters the world over were watching the Opening Ceremonies, needles in hand, anxiously waiting for the torch to be lit so they could cast on, I was on stage, accordion in hand, watching this:

 Hundreds of crazy happy dancing people, in a tent, in Winnipeg, in February. Aren't they the awesomest?! I live for it, I really do. (I took this shot from the stage, over the accordion, hence the blurriness...told them all to sccoch together and smile.  As you can see, they obliged.)

So I bought the yarn and needles on Saturday morning, and knit every waking, available moment until now, when I paused for long enough to tell you about it.  My Olympic Knitting project is a test knit for Allyson of The Sweatshop of Love.  And I'm feeling the love, big time.

Paton's Classic Wool in Dark Grey, 5mm needles, Allyson's lovely pattern, small size.

Loving the stitch pattern so far (about 7.75" in so far)... making a lovely, squishy fabric and perfect for Olympic watching as it requires my attention for exactly 12 stitches every 6th row.  One could say I have just a wee bit of a competitive streak (the way one could say Canadians are just a wee bit into hockey) so I'm hoping that the idea of Knitting for Home and Native Land will be inspiration enough to sustain me when I get to the inevitable knitting black hole (where one knits for hours and makes no perceptible progress whatsoever).

Go Canada Go!

(P.S. For anyone in the neighborhood: we're playing Festival du Voyageur again this Friday, this time inside at the Franco-Manitoba Cultural Centre, if you want to come see us.  You can totally bring your Olympic knitting. I'll understand.)

Um, Squee.

If you're here because of the irresistible force that is Lime & Violet, (because really, who can resist their power?  Not I, that's for damn sure) the post that they talked about on today's podcast is here.  (If you're here and you haven't discovered the Lime and Violet podcast yet, go. Go now. Discover them, drink their Kool-Aid.)

I briefly considered trying to be all cool about the fact that my wee blog was on their podcast today, but really, when one is already public about the fact that one plays the accordion...

I was listening to today's podcast on my iPod as I was making dinner.  As soon as I heard my name, I ran into the living room and plugged it into the stereo so Kev and I could listen together, and spent the whole time alternately squeeing and laughing and giggling and pointing at the iPod and pointing at him saying "That's you, honey! See how awesome you are? See?" (Um, I also totally overcooked the potatoes.)

Anyway, welcome to my little corner of blogland, hope you enjoy, and hope you come back. And thanks to L&V for the shout out.  You totally made my week.

Forever Young

When I was a kid, I really liked my January birthday.  My birthday parties were usually tobaggoning, or skating on the duck pond at the park near our house, or, if the weather was prohibitive, bowling.  More importantly, if Santa didn't quite get the message that, no, really, I DID want an Easy Bake Oven above everything else on the list, I always had the birthday ask to fall back on.  Sort of a gift insurance policy.

In my teens and early twenties, I became less keen on it.  People - myself included - are still recovering from the over-indulgences and over-expenditures of the holidays, and are usually not into celebrating one more time.  It's cold out, the resolutions are still in full force, and we're in hibernation mode until spring.  Humbug, birthday-style.

My birthday is less of a big deal nowadays, and I find that it sneaks up on me more than it used to.  I don't think about it too much in terms of a celebration, but the one thing I do like about my birthdate is the new-ness of it: new year, new age for me.  I don't make New Year's resolutions.  But I do tend to spend the 16 days between New Year's Day and today reflecting on what's next for me, and this year is no exception.

Our recent trip to Arizona and the amount of time we spent with people well into their "golden years" there has coloured this reflection for me this year.  While I'm still many years away from my own retirement, spending so much time with people in theirs really got me thinking about it.  People say all the time that they never want to get old, but I don't think it's the getting old chronologically that is the problem.  Though I'm not keen on the idea of getting old physically, I'm not as concerned about that, either. I think for me it's that I never want to stop learning and, perhaps more importantly, I never want to stop wanting to learn.  I think that maybe the secret to the Fountain of Youth is actually not the fountain, but the search for it: not the water, but the thirst.

And so, this year:

I will learn to knit toe-up socks.  I've knit zillions of socks, but they've all been top down.

I will actually take the time to check gauge, measure, count, not fudge sleeve measurements, and do everything else necessary to knit a successful sweater for myself, a project that, in almost 10 years of knitting, I have yet to accomplish.

I will learn to golf. Kevin loves to golf, and has dreams of us golfing together when it's our turn to take advantage of the seniors' discounts.  For the many years until then, I also think the game will be very good for me:  the facts are that I do not like being Not-Good at things, and I will most likely be Not-Good at golf for a good long time.  I think it will help me learn patience, and self-acceptance, and be a good counterbalance to my perfectionist tendencies.  (Please remind me of this the first time I post with much profanity about how much I hate the stupid game and what I did to my stupid clubs on the stupid course because the stupid ball won't do as it's told.)

And more often, I will keep my eyes and ears open and my mouth shut.

I want to grow old without growing up.  I want to stay young in my mind and in my heart, and keep a sense of wonder about the world. I want to stay humble about my knowledge, and always thirsty for more. And I will start as I mean to go on.

Happy New Year.