My Apologies...

First, my apologies for my futzing with the layout and colours and backgrounds, etc. I have too much fun looking at all the possibilities. I think I may have finally settled upon one layout/design that I like and will keep. Hey, it's hard to decide on a design when they keep adding more and your subject matter keeps expanding. You try to find one layout that encompasses knitting, food, travel, thoughts on Christian spirituality, singing, riding the bus, my incoherent ramblings that I think someone, someday, might want to read.

Second, my apologies for not writing more often. I started this whole thing, mostly so I could post a knitting pattern. And, I thought, since everyone is writing blogs, I should also. I'm usually not the type to jump on the bandwagon. In fact, I'm usually early or late in my bandwagon jumping. I do something before it's popular or I join in just as everyone is jumping onto the next bandwagon. Now that I've jumped on to the bandwagon, I should really try to stay on instead of being bounced out every few months and running to catch up.

However, this is my year of Yes! (which I will explain in a future posting), so, I will take another stab at this whole blog thing. I may even let people know I'm writing a blog. That might boost my readership. Here's to happy blogging! Or at least, more timely blogging.

What Can I Do?

On March 10th, at about 11:30 pm, I opened an email from my dad titled, "WE FELT THAT ONE!!!" He went on to write about two 7.9 earthquakes 255 miles north of where my parents live, just outside of Tokyo.

Now, my parents have lived in Tokyo since 1972. My dad grew up near San Francisco, my mom in Los Angeles. They have plenty of experience with earthquakes. So, when they both say they've never felt anything like that before, I knew it was serious. I quickly switched my browser over to BBC and clicked on a video link. It took me a few minutes to realize I was watching live news. Initial reports were conflicting as to the magnitude of the earthquake but finally, it was agreed that the earthquake as actually a 9.0, the fifth largest quake in the world since records were kept. And there was no mistaking that tsunami.

I can remember where I was when the Twin Towers fell and I remember how I felt when the devastation in New Orleans became apparent. Those two events, in a strange way, made me feel American for the first time in my life. Tragedy has a way of drawing us together. But this, watching the water rise, this felt much worse. Japan will always be my home, though I may never live there again. Now, I realize it is my heart-land as well. And my heart broke as I watched towns and cities disappear.

In the days that followed, I checked BBC religiously to find out any news. My computer was always open to Facebook so that I could check in with my parents and friends who are still in Japan. It all got to be too much and I had to start imposing media fasts. The devastation is greater than I can imagine and from everything I've heard, the pictures can't capture the scope of it all. I was also growing increasingly frustrated at the emphasis placed on the problems at the Fukushima Daiichi reactor as it felt like people were losing focus on the survivors further north. I'm not denying the importance of shutting down the reactor safely nor the danger of any radiation leaks. However, I've grown tired of the constant fear-mongering in the press and, frankly, tired of America's "How will this affect me?" stance.

I wanted desperately to be doing something to help. But I knew that my Japanese language skills, which were never stellar, would only be a hindrance. I don't have the time to take off from work, I don't have the specialized skills to offer. I've been doing the only things I can do. I've been praying constantly and I've donated what I can afford to give. But I felt like that wasn't enough.

There was a sense that other people believed that, as a developed country, Japan would not need the help or accept the help that other countries would need if faced with a similar disaster. You only have to look at the photos of the devastation to know that is not true. They desperately need any help we can give.

Much has been made of Japanese stoicism and resilience. Hundreds of thousands of people are showing great courage and dignity in the face of tragedy. But that stoicism doesn't mean people aren't hurting and that they can get by on their own.

Even more than money, they need our prayers and support. They need to know they are not alone.

What can I do? What can I do on the other side of the ocean? How can I show my support and love for Japan?

In response, I've set up a fundraising page with MercyCorps and made a pin to wear in support of the survivors of the Tohoku earthquake. It's a simple loop of white ribbon with a red button. I will give a pin to everyone who donates $5 or more to the page listed below. I hope you will wear it and remember, "life is short and we have never too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are travelling the dark journey with us. Oh be swift to love, make haste to be kind." (Henri-Frederic Amiel)

http://www.mercycorps.org/fundraising/lynelletarter

Please feel free to share this with your friends and family. Thanks for any support you can give.

Lynelle

Gambare, Nippon!

Besides the list of ingredients and the directions for preparing a meal, a lot of recipes give a prep time and cooking time to give you an idea of how long it will take you to prepare the meal or cake or cookies or whatever. I usually look at that number and double it 'cause that's how long it takes me.

I don't know why it takes me longer. Everyone tells me that it will get better with practice but it's not like I'm completely new to cooking. I would think that I have enough practice by now, at least with the recipes that I know well. Needless to say, because of my propensity to take forever when cooking, I was shocked and amazed at how quickly last night's dinner was put together, especially since I had never prepared that particular recipe before. Not only was it a quick, easy recipe but, and this is the important part, I had gotten all my ingredients together and somewhat prepared before I even started cooking. The lemon was grated, the asparagus was chopped, all that was left to do was boil the pasta and cook the sauce.

The actual dish was delicious, nice and light. The lemon was subtle as was the parmesan that I added at the last minute. I don't think I put enough asparagus in but that was because I was using up the last of it from last week's farmer's market run. I look forward to making it again. Maybe I'll add some grilled chicken and lemons the next time. It would be good with a different kind of pasta too, maybe a farfalle or penne. What asparagus was in the dish was kind of hidden in the cappellini.

Squirrels!

I got most of my container garden planted yesterday as well has got my first sunburn of the year. I don't mind the sunburn as it just proves that I did indeed get outside. Ran out of soil before I was done planting but that's ok, I was planning on using starts for my tomatoes anyway. Last week, at the farmer's market, I found a stall that has tomato starts and herb starts that looked a whole lot healthier than anything I saw at my local big store. Can't wait for Wednesday so that I can go back and get those starts.

Della, my dog, was out on the deck with me the whole time. I haven't been able to walk her like I should because of a stress fracture in my left foot, so I thought the time outside, even if it was only on the deck, would be good for her. She spent most of the time, standing in one spot, fixated on the squirrels. I kind of wish there was some way I could leave her out there all the time, protecting my garden. When I went out this morning to water, I found the squirrels had dug up some of my mesclun and there was a squirrel paw sized hole in one of my spinach planters! Maybe I need to invest in some netting?

For dinner last night, Spring Celebration soup - garlic, carrots, asparagus, spinach and white beans in a chicken and lemon broth served with toasted homemade whole wheat bread.YUM!

For a while now, I've wanted to buy more of my fruits and vegetables at the farmer's market. I miss the quality of fresh produce my family got when I was growing up. My mom used to buy tomatoes and cucumbers from a roadside stand on the way home. Grocery stores just can't offer that kind of freshness.

I've also wanted to make more of my food. For instance, I love making bread (I don't really care for cleaning up the mess I make) and I love the taste of homemade bread. It has more flavor than what I buy at the store, it's much cheaper than what I buy at the store and I know exactly what went into it. I want to try making my own yogurt. I want to make up "convenience" meals that aren't full of additives, preservatives, fillers and other things that I don't even know what they are.

Basically, I want more control over my food and I want to have fun with my food. I want to enjoy sitting down to a meal that looks good and tastes good and is good for me.

This summer, I'm planting a garden on my deck. I'm hoping to have tomatoes, carrots, spinach, peas, cucumbers, squash and maybe even blueberries. If it goes well, I hope to expand next year to the weedy bit of waste ground beside my apartment. I'm going to grow some herbs in my sunny kitchen window. What I can't grow, I plan to buy at the farmer's market.

I hope to do some preserving at the end of the summer, freezing fruits and veggies so that I can enjoy them during the winter as well.

As a culture, we tend to think everything should be available to us at any time. With that availability and convenience, I think we've lost somethings. We've lost some of our connection to the earth. We've lost some of our connection to the seasons. And, I think we've lost some of our joy about food. If something is available at any time, then there is nothing to make it special. Imagine waiting impatiently for that first taste of asparagus that year or the first tomato.

Speaking of asparagus, my first farmer's market meal: Sapporo Ichiban ramen with fried egg, carrots and sauteed asparagus. For dessert, fresh strawberries and vanilla ice cream.

YUM!

I sing in a choir that rehearses once a week and after rehearsals, some of us go out to a local pub and have a drink or two and some eats. I haven't been able to go as often as I would like as the person who gives me a ride doesn't always want to go. A few weeks ago, I was able to go and as always, I had a wonderful time. Except for one thing.

Somehow we had gotten on the topic of Lent (probably because I wasn't drinking my usual gin and tonic) and from there, somehow, we got to the topic of original sin. I know, kind of a weird topic for late night happy hour but there you have it. Now, at the table was a very wide variety of people, including a pastor, who apparently does not believe in original sin. Judging from some of his comments he also doesn't believe the Bible to be the inspired word of God or at least, the complete word of God. What bothered me most about this conversation was me. I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. I did not agree with a lot of what he said but I didn't have the evidence to back me up. It frustrated me that I could only sit there while others debated and to some extent, dismissed what I believe and I couldn't think of anything to say. It really brought home to me the limitations of my faith. Well, not limitations in what I believe but limitations in explaining and defending what I believe in, and I found myself wishing for the flowchart of my worldview that I had to create for my ethics class senior year of high school.

Faith, to some extent, defies proof. Faith is believing something that can't be proved or seen. But I can still have reasons for my belief, I can show why I believe what I believe. I need to find those again. I don't want to be caught silent again.

A Tote for All Seasons

I'm trying to be really good about not buying yarn for new projects until I've used some of my stash. I'm also trying to finish my UFOs. I was doing pretty well. I started the Barcelona Jacket(Interweave Knits, Fall 2009) in a handspun wool that a friend had given me(15 balls of wool that are between 200 and 300 yards in each skein! That's a lot of wool in one color). I hope to take the sweater with me to Boston in a few weeks so I've named my sweater Homespun in Boston. The pieces are finished and I just need to block the pieces, stitch them up and then I can finish the collar and edging. Since I've never been able to get steam blocking to work for me, I usually submerge my knitted items in my tub and then pin them out on my bedroom floor. However, right now, my tub is in desperate need of a cleaning and I refuse to put my pretty knits in the tub until I've done so. Tub-cleaning is a project for this weekend; it's part of my general de-spidering campaign I've got going at my house.

So, that left me with other UFOs to work on but I was bored with those. I started a double-knit scarf in mohair(also from my stash), but that is slow going and I think I'll save that for the actual flight to Boston. And then, I finally found the colors I wanted to use in the Medallion Travel Bag. Though I liked the bold contrast of the colors of the original, they were a little too bold for my use. So when I found the beautiful grey and green wools that were exactly what I wanted, I broke down and bought them. Plus, they were cheaper than I thought they would be too.

I couldn't wait to cast on. After a few bus commutes, I've been able to complete the base. The only difficulty I've had so far with using the chart(I love charts! I mean it, no sarcasm) is that I have to remember that the white squares are grey and the black squares are green.

Then, last night, I picked up the stitchs to start on the sides. I hate picking up stitches. I can never get the number to come out right. It took me at least two tries, and more often three or more, to get the right number of stitches on each side and even then, when I got to the end of the first pattern row, an stitch had grown all on it's own. It was sitting there, taunting me. Do I tink back to the picked up stitches and start again. Never! This tote is going to be felted so I quickly k2tog to hide that random stitch. Take that, you extra stitch.

This morning, the crowd waiting for the bus seemed abnormally large and I reconciled myself to not knitting this morning. After all, it's difficult to knit standing in a moving vehicle and I'm more likely to stab someone when I attempt it. But, lo and behold, in the back was a seat. I made a beeline for it, sat down, placed my voluminous purse at my feet and proceeded to knit. Then came the inevitable question from a fellow commuter, "What are you making?"

"A tote-bag," I replied. "Once I'm done knitting the bag, I'll felt it."

"What season is it for?"

Season? I wasn't aware totes had seasons. Is that like the "no white after Labor Day" rule? Is there a "no tote" rule as well? The bag is not black and orange or red and green so Halloween and Christmas are out. What season was she talking about?

Thinking how I would like to take this bag with me to Boston as well, and how it is made of wool, I replied, "Winter."

"Winter!? Oh, well...."

You would have thought I committed fashion high treason! Or is that high fashion treason? Seriously? It's a wool bag; if I had to pick a season for this tote, winter makes the most sense to me. Even then, I don't like restricting my knits to one season. After all, I live in the Pacific Northwest, where, if you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes and it will be different. I'll probably use the tote well into June.

Like everyone else, I usually cannot think up clever come-backs on the spot. I wish that I could have left her with this come-back:

My tote will be a tote for all seasons.