Domestic Monday: Double Beers, One Blanket

Sorry for the delay. It's so cold I forgot how to type.

Though I didn't forget how to knit. I finished the socks and, as expected, they fit fine. No repeats of Clifford the Big Red Hat. Unfortunately, my Mom spirited away her new pair of socks before I could take a picture. So you can use your imagination and imagine a finished pair here (suggestion: add lots of stray cat hair):

The next project is a baby blanket for my best friend. She's also due in April, so I should probably speed this up a little. It's the Big Bad Baby Blanket from Stitch 'n Bitch, knit in two strands of Koigu KPPM. This amuses me, because I spent a good half hour reviewing baby blanket patterns on Ravelry, searching for one that was NEW and DIFFERENT, yet SOPHISTICATED and PERFECT... and yet somehow I am knitting a pattern that's 12 years old, in yarn that looks like lovebirds in a blender. I hope you can believe me when I say that it somehow suits my best friend better than a delicate lacy blanket ever would, even one knit in a tasteful shade of jade or puce.

I've also been drinking some beer.

Febrewary continued at Victory Cafe with the Farm Table Mild Ale(L) and the Strong Patrick(R). The Mild was very mild. Beau's version wasn't as gentle as a mild from another brewery I just tried that tasted just like wort to me, but it was definitely a sudden shift from the Gruit. I preferred the Strong Patrick, which reminded me a bit of sweet oatcakes, a complexity probably owing to its barrel-aged background. Unfortunately, I struck out the third week with the Coeur Noir Black IPA. Victory had either sold out or hadn't yet tapped their delivery of Coeur Noir, and so I'll never know what it tasted like. Instead, I had to drown my sadness at missing out in four other beers. And a single victory at Star Trek Catan.

Will I Ever Spreek Nederlands?

Maturity has sometimes seemed like a multi-year project of coming to terms with all of the things I can't do, whether that means things I can't do well, or things I can't do at all. I can't sing. I can't write music. I'm terrible at chess. And when it came to woodworking I try to make up in spirit what I lack in talent, an approach that never seems to lead to right angles. Except for the singing, all of these conclusions are predated by another: I just have no talent for languages.

I realized this halfway through high school, after ten years of French Immersion had just made me nervous using any verb tense past the present. I tried to give that language another try by moving to Montreal, but it didn't work. Even my backup plan -- hoping a nice Québécois man would teach me both the language of love and the official language of his nation -- failed. 

Now I speak French in the same way that I can swim: I won't immediately die, but I can't do it for long. 

I also tried learning Russian in Montreal. I had hoped my Ukrainian DNA would kick in and help me speak the somewhat similar language of our oppressor, but I bailed after my second-year instructor made me cry. I did enjoy writing in Cyrillic though, and I've never forgotten the Russian words for the following things: refrigerator, drugstore, and the phrase "I am listening to the Billy Joel cassette tape." So it wasn't an entirely wasted effort, as long as I plan to visit Russia in the year 1987. 

And yet, I beat on. Now I'm trying to learn Dutch, which my employer reminded me was pointless, "since they all speak English anyway." He's not entirely wrong. Dan's grandparents emigrated from the Netherlands in the 1950s, but the extended family sometimes comes over to visit, bringing their fluent English and high foreheads [NOTE: "Everyone is't fluent, there are those too old to learn it, some that are learning it now and some haven't bothered at all!" -  Dan]. Even ignoring the lack of practical applications for Dutch (unless Canada feels like posting me as the ambassador to Suriname*), it's a difficult language to learn. 

But I'm enjoying it, in a way that I never did with the other languages. Perhaps it's because my interest is purely personal, and I don't feel like I'm trying to become a dynamic, valuable Young Worker in Canada's MarketTM, like I did with French. There is no pressure to learning Dutch. Instead, I can just enjoy the process of learning and forgetting and re-learning words, including those that sound amusing to my Anglo ears. Like pork: varkensvlees! I hope to be fluent enough to visit the Netherlands in a few years and Dutch my way through the country, even though I'm sure all the people I meet will answer my "Hoi!" with a perfectly inflected "Why, hello there."

*Government of Canada: I'm available and eager!

Pillow Blog: 80s Relationship Troika

In the tradition of the Sei Shonagon's Pillow Book, here's a Pillow Blog: an observational list on some subject or other.

Three perfect songs from the 1980s, arranged to form the story of an imaginary relationship:


Kate Bush, Hounds of Love (You fell in lust; "Oh, here I go! Don't let me go!")


New Order, Bizarre Love Triangle: (You're unsure; "Why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday")


Womack and Womack, Teardrops: (You fucked it up; "And the music don't feel like it did when I felt it with you")

Domestic Monday: Comfort Socks and Gruited Beer

Let's burn a U-ie from my last post, and get back to lighter, happier topics. Like socks that will definitely fit. Or beer that's really quite good.

After Clifford the Big Red Hat, I needed something simple to get my knitting mojo back. Simple and quick--I have a pile of baby knitting to do, and those things (babies) come with a deadline. Socks were the obvious pick. I didn't start new ones though. There were so many lonely socks in my knitting basket, left single when I was too bored to knit them a mate, that I had to finish off at least one pair.

So here's Charade sock #2 for my mom. I've had the yarn for so long that I've forgotten the brand, much less the colourway. It knits up in a delightfully squishy way though, and that's all that matters.

I'm also feeling pretty positive about this week's beer. It's February, which means that Beau's has started to roll out their FeBREWary lineup. First up: the O.G. Original Gruit. As discussed last year, I love gruits, probably because I love herbal teas, Brio, and anything else that tastes like witch's brew. This one is particularly refreshing (so much carbonation!), with an aroma that reminded me of herbed grapefruit. I would definitely recommend getting a pint, particularly if it's going to be your first gruit. Just remember to do it before the next FeBREWary beer is tapped.