ProseKnitic – of Words und Wolle

It was the end of the day, almost late enough to need my flashlight.

The four of us (me, two teens and Beverly) walked down our street and around the corner to where the small lake flows out into a small stream.

I had printed off a short service that I found on-line, placed up by one the Beth El Synagogues in the US. And trust me, we had more than enough bread crusts for crumbs. No guitar nor real desire for song.

For a short time the rain held off; we quietly recited the prayers and cast the crumbs into the rapidly flowing water.

At the conclusion, the Mole scrambled back up the bank from where he had been overlooking the stream. Heading quickly back down the road, I am afraid that thoughts were more on the upcoming meal rather than reflection.

Erev Rosh Hashanah.

Family scattered across three countries.

Two teens and I have dinner planned. One of the women with whom I work is also on her own. The four of us will have a nice dinner complete with candles and blessings. I started the meal in the slow cooker this morning, Ms Copper made a honey run to Tescos and grabbed salad as well while the Mole knocked out his French home work. Beverly brought her home-made white wine, a pepper and the apple.

This is my first attempt at Challah like bread in the machine.

Not too fancy, but a little better than jeans or uniforms, we gathered around the table for salad, Cacciatore, rice, vegetables, bread, with pie for desert.

Tomorrow when the teens are home from school, we will get together again at the local pond where it exits for a short Tashlich Service.

L’shona tovah

(posted on Sunday, reposted 2 Oct since the original vanished somewhere).

Found a lovely group of knitters through the Surrey/Hampshire forum on Ravelry.

The three knitters

In no particular order: there is Sazzle who spent the afternoon cranking out little topper things for charity in bright colors and interesting patterns; Heather knitting a lovely sweater of her own design in a wonderful turquoise and finally, MaryHenry, a knitter of fairisle to die for.

Completed body

I just cranked out several more repeats on the candle flame scarf.

3/4 complete

Ms Copper came along, complete with book.

Just a lovely, sunny day.

There was a choice this morning – take a day off, rest. Or get it over with – all the paperwork that I have let slide. The forms that need to be printed, filled out and scanned. The travel claims that need to be filed yet this fiscal year; the bits of paper floating here and there.

Or I could relax, enjoy Shabbat and do all of this tomorrow.

We already know that I am quite skilled at procrastination. Then there is the problem of not being sure exactly how many hours it was going to take to get through everything. Good chance that I would run out of energy and still have a mess on my hands on Monday.

Biting the bullet, I decided to be brave and start today.

At the start, there were piles of stuff in several rooms.

Consolidating it always makes it feel worse at the start.

(and if the camera CF chip was willing to give up its secrets – you might get pixs).

Keeping steadily at it with little time out for wandering and doodling at 2200 two rooms were completely straightened out, receipts sorted, paperwork all organized and the first 20 or so things scanned. Since I was on a roll, I printed out all the forms that I still have to fill out.

Glad I started today, no way was this a single day job.

Knitting

Another two repeats on the Candle Flame Scarf.

Audio Books

Fuzzy Nail – JA Konrath. Bought new (not on sale) when it came out, then lost. Found in one of those above pictured piles, it played in the background to encourage my cleaning.

As you look at a deployed Army in the field you don’t see all the paperwork that stands behind. Most of us would assume that there are SOPs (standard operating procedures) TTPs (Techniques, Tactics and Procedures), regulations or guidance out there. After all, there has to be a way for everyone to understand what they are about, how to do it, and a standard for accomplishments.

At the beginning, there is a core of doctrine defining those who, whats, whys, hows and wheres.  At the headquarters (very senior headquarters) all of these documents are on a regular review cycle. Feedback on the effectiveness of doctrine and gaps comes up from the field through various channels and becomes incorporated into the planned way of doing business.

AMS stands for [British] Army Medical Services. As the two star headquarters and the equivalent to the US Army’s Surgeon General’s office, the doctrine function is housed down the hall from me.

All of this is to explain why at 0930 this morning I found myself attending a meeting regarding Core Concepts and Doctrine. At least there was coffee, tea and biscuits (cookies for you US types) provided.

Discussions ensued on evacuation times, capability terms of reference, implications of changes for staffing, training and equipping. Printed documents averaging two inches thick had been gone through line by line with consolidated comments prior to the meeting.

Two hours later, I was relatively sane. Except for one attendee, this is an intelligent, professional group. The odd man out, on the other hand, kept wandering down various rat holes and and bringing things back up long after every had moved on to the next item. The guy running the meeting was pretty good – polite, firm and kept to the agenda. (I think the wandering dude had enough rank that everyone had to be polite…..).

Spent a quiet afternoon and evening listening to a couple of podcasts and reading.

No pictures, so for those on email distribution, this one should not get caught up in spam filters or bounced.

British Officer’s Messes are rife with tradition. So much so that it is almost difficult to know what to do, and when. From walking in with an escort to who gets served what first to how to pass the sherry at the end.

The Mess here at AMD supposedly has some event or other for its members every month. The summer was quiet after the Ball in June, especially since yours truly bugged out of setting up the 4ht of July celebration in lieu of Majora with the DH.

Tonight was a Mess Dinner. Normally one dresses for dinner at the Mess in any case. Suit and tie for men, appropriate = for women. As a military function, no one likes wearing their normal Army Uniform with jacket (and Sam Brown belt with the rest of the kit) because it is “uncomfortable.” Instead, it becomes a Mess affair being Black Tie for those not in uniform and Dress Mess (oh, duh) for the rest of us.

I am getting a lot of wear out of this uniform…..

Needless to say, besides the four corps jackets (in both mens and womens) there were members of two other corps guesting, one Scots with a plaid vestcoat and one with plaid trews.

Music for the 50+ in attendance was provided by the Royal Army Medical Corps Territorial Band (V). Every good, but unfortunately too loud if you wanted to indulge in ordinary table conversation. The dining room is old with high arching ceilings; the noise does reverberate.

Predrinks and conversation at 1930, dinner call at 2000. In contrast to US functions, only a prayer is offered before the meal and all the toasts, regimental tunes and the like are placed following the sweet and coffee. This leaves the crew with multiple bottles of sherry being passed around each table segment.

I am thinking of adding a page to two in the continuity book as a guide to surviving without making too many errors.

It was close to 2300 by the time I returned home.

Since the Mole and I had managed to miss each other on his pickup at the train station, we have to head out early in order to get him another train pass.

Knitting was not, unfortunately, on the list of today.

I know that you have heard this rant before. There absolutely has to be genetics involved. Or at least the absence of a Y chromosome and age past teen years.

You would not think it was such a hard thing to accomplish: the taking off of an empty roll, opening a package and placing a brand new roll on the hanger. Doesn’t take skill past that of the average 3 year old, or maybe a two year old if the number of rolls lost to kittens and toddlers is any indication.

Classic appearance

In the presence of an open package, the process should become even easier.

Open Package

So why is it that mothers seem to be the only ones in a household capable of hanging a new roll of toilet paper? Who don’t find it impossible to go beyond the laziness of plunking the new role down on the toilet back, the floor or the nearest handy surface?

the reality of upstairs

I think it was a mother at wits end who came up with the idea of super-sized rolls just to decrease the hassle. Double size rolls should mean half the incidence of the above noted nuisance, right? Instead, I have noticed that the consumption of toilet paper has increased. Perhaps it is the impression that the roll is so big it will last forever or some other factor beyond my ken.

The end result is almost as many empty cores as before gracing the bathroom at close to double the expense. It boggles the mind which needs to turn to knitting for sanity.

Yarn

This ball of yarn -

Noro Silk Garden #265

is destined to become this hat (for those of you who are on Ravelry).

Books

.Blood Noir – Laurel Hamilton. Amazingly enough, this one actually has a story line separate from sex and violence. I really don’t remember Anita being such a wimp and so doubt filled. I wonder if the author is trying to make her a bit more real and sympathetic. Instead, she has lost some of the good character points while not gaining much of anything.

On the Speakers

In the Wake of the Wind – David Arkestone.
.

It started out innocently enough. It was a Friday and I couldn’t decide what picture I wanted to add to the end of the post. Or whether or not I really had a picture at all.

So I let it slide till morning. But it was no different, compounded by my need to get everything together for the ferry to the continent. Procrastination is easy. I would post as soon as I got to the other side, got home.

But connecting from the conference wasn’t easy, certainly no pictures were possible.

I would wait till I was back in Heidelberg, ignoring the rushing around as I herded the four of us toward our CONUS flight from Frankfurt. The Con was fun and putting up pictures from there was not an issue, but then we moved on to Albuquerque and I just could not find all that much interesting to say.

It was so easy to avoid the increasing list of draft posts that were accumulating. Those which needed to be checked for spelling or have a photo added. Returning back to the UK, it seemed that fall had arrived along with a massive personnel turnover and a number of new and interesting projects. Out in the field, I had no access to email. Or at least that was as good an excuse as any.

Gradually, the idea of posting just became overwhelming. Commenting after not having said anything for so long would be like starting in the middle of a story. To pull out drafts, polish off and publish fell into the too hard to do box. It was easier to knit, spin, read, listen to audio books, bake bread or play computer games. I started avoiding other people’s blogs out of guilt and let my project page at Ravelry languish.

This is not depression, I am perfectly happy with procrastination and entertained by life. But the catch-up hole has gotten rather deep.

I realized how deep today when I looked at my to-do list. On this list are major things for work, some personal things that involve money (I am due some refunds), three patterns that I really need to finish writing up so that I can post them for everyone who has asked for them and packages that need to go in the mail.

This short list is over 45 items long (and doesn’t include fiber or knitting) and seems to be growing faster than I can finish out tasks. Given those overwhelming facts, all of a sudden completing a few drafts and whittling down the sub-numbers of items 12, 13, and 14 on my list seems easy.

Accordingly, I am raising my own expectations and yours. I don’t have the excuse of non-working computers since I finally have things sorted out well enough to leave an old laptop at work. The camera is charged, I have way too many projects on the needles along with piles of books, audio books and those knitting projects left over from last year.

Expect to hear to see regular posts, and for me to be cleaning out those drafts languishing for days, weeks and unfortunately months.

Books & Audio

Haunted in Death – JD Robb in Audio.
Next up - Hawkes Harbor - SE Hinton and Dark Justice – Jack Higgins

Quote

That’s the thing about flat walls – they grow bookcases.  TPratchett

I have always lived in homes with bookcases; where an empty wall was to be pitied and covered as quickly as possible by yet another variant of wooden architecture designed to hold things. The majority of the things to be held have been paperbacks.

My bookcases have changed over the years. I have gone beyond the college era of brick and board to more permanent structures. In fact, some of those structures might even be composed of good wood or resemble furniture. We have gradually phased out the cheap, knocked together garage style bookshelves in favor of ones that might actually appear to be permanent structures.

Which leads me to the problem of the UK. The lovely woman who helped me with housing here bullied the group into providing us five bookcases. The normal allotment apparently is one per house. One. How in the world could you survive with one bookcase?

But I digress.

They were empty when we started. Now, I just have to figure out how I have managed to accumulate so many books here in the UK that the shelves are now filled.

I really don’t remember bringing along much, except for a few audio books and some DvD collections. But over the time we have been here, well the shelves are getting full.

It might be the audiobooks. I have purchased a fair number of those on sale. Or it might be that I have hit a few knitting book sales. Plus I started knitting a bit of lace. When one has no lace books, well it means that I need some. Right?

One of the teens is currently in Germany. I might just appropriate her bookcase. It would be a shame to have it less than full in a room that will be hosting various vistors. What would they think of me, that I had empty shelves?

Should I share the knitting books? Novels? A variety of listening materials? Perhaps I should move out that pile of books in the hall that is waiting to go Germany. I could move some of the piled up audiobooks from the floor of my room.

But not the library books. Those will remain on my bedside table. The travel books in the living room and the professional related materials in the office area.

I know, I could fill it with lace yarns……..

After months of running the dryer five or six times to get a load to acceptable dryness, I have finally given up. I could repair it, but the cost is prohibitive. For now, it has a new home in an outside shed.

Old Dryer

Taking a deep breath, and after not being able to get through on the phone, I stopped at the Housing Facilities Warehouse at RAF Croughton. It is all the way to the back of the base, around everything from the golf ball farm to the playing fields. Driving up, the sign on the door gives Thursday afternoon hours till 1500.

It is 1452.

Entering, this lovely lady asks how she can help then prints out all the relevant paperwork. She had only a couple of questions. Blower or Condenser? Do you want to take the dryer with you or have it delivered?

Condenser, thank you very much. How much does it weigh? Will it fit in the back of my van?

Under 30kg, and yes – we should be able to slide it into the van without problems.

After arriving home upon completion of all the rest of my errors, the Mole and I unloaded it. He unpacked it, plugged it in, and slid it into place.

New Dryer

Isn’t it pretty? It drys like a dream. Now to start rewashing all those slightly off odour clothing and household linens….

Books

Re-reading my way through the Liaden Universe series. They might be around somewhere in paperback – I read most while downrange in 2003-2004. Downloaded from Baen, it is such a simple way to read.

It is over half my life and now half of his. Reflecting this morning, I sent off an SMS to my husband wishing him a happy anniversary. Characteristic of our lives, I am texting from York in England while out on a military field exercise.

He received it in Tel Aviv where he had traveled for a board meeting. Our children are in Richmond, Camberley, Heidelberg or Weisloch depending on the particular individual, the day of the week and time of day.

30 years is perhaps a long by today’s reckoning but I don’t think it is unreasonable at all. We have lived in a number of locations, watched our children grow from infancy traveled, loved, fought and made up. In spite of military and jobs requiring prolonged separation, we have kept up our commitment.

Perhaps we were lucky in choosing each other, or too stubborn to quit even when the going was extremely tough.

Another 30 would be really nice.

The lightening struck, the penny dropped.

Standing in the bathroom this evening wondering why my clean towels all smelled a bit off. A bit funky, a bit like…….sheep?

All the clothes have smelled a bit weird for the last month or so, but I just blamed it on the dryer which sometimes decides to heat and other times is more than happy to churn away hours at a time with a nice cool breeze fluffing the interior contents.

Right before vacation – so I guess it is getting on closer to 8 weeks, I used the washing machine to soak out some fleece. Nice lingerie bags, hot water and lots of soap. Took three times through, but the end result was some fairly clean, soft white fleece for spinning.

After I was done, I ran an empty load with soap and didn’t think anything of it.

Since I have been living with German front load washers for years, I have not exactly been using this method for washing fleece in recent times. This dim light in the back of my brain is now mentioning something about bleach afterwords, or at least vinegar.

As I put these words to screen (doesn’t sound anywhere as nice as “pen to paper” I can hear the washer churning with perhaps this time a better chance of clean smelling laundry this time.

Books & Audio Books

Chaos King by Laura Ruby on the MP3. Teen fiction – highly recommended.
The Watchman. by Robert Crais in the station wagon. First thing I have heard by him. Have a few more now in the queue.
End of the World Blues by Jon Courtenay Grimwood on the bedside. Stunning.

After months of trying, I was was able to get to a knitters’ meet up in Guildford. Normally the third Sunday of the month at the White Horse Pub (8 High Street). Ms Copper agreed to come along, no knitting but with iPod and reading.

This time, with the GPS properly programmed it was easy (and next time I won’t bother with it at all). Parking at York Road long term turned out not to exceed the amount of coins in my pocket. Which is pretty impressive since I rarely have any change at all on hand.

There were three knitters – Sazzle, Heather, and Mary.

At the White House Pub

Sarah was knitting these wonderfully funny little toppers for charity. Heather is working on a sweater she designed her self in the most lovely clear turquoise. And then there is MaryHenry.

body of fairisle sweater

Elegant fairisle, perfect tension, as lovely inside as out. She has the body complete and was working on the sleeves. Knit of course in real Shetland. I was careful not to drool directly on her knitting but it was close.

I have more paperwork to do this evening. Ugh.

Audio Books

Another hour on Rusty Nail plus wandered onto Overdrive (AF link) and downloaded a book or two. Selection seems to be pretty limited.