Golden Summer Tea Cake (Things I’m Not Knitting) July 4, 2009

I have a confession to make.  I haven’t picked up my knitting for weeks – possibly a month.  Nothing.  Not a stitch.  I did prepare some fiber (dyed mohair locks) and spin for all of an hour recently, and then nothing.  I’m a bit mystified as to why, but there is no lack of making going on.

Just today, I have made/will make:

One loaf of bread

Three pairs of dangly earrings

A jug of soymilk and a

… Golden Perfume Summer Tea Cake

Wet phase:
- 1 cup whole milk (farmer’s market) yogurt
- 1/2 c turbinado sugar
- 1/2 c white sugar
- 1/2 c melted butter (or oil, but I only had extra virgin olive oil)
- 2 VERY LARGE farmer’s market eggs – or three more average eggs
- 1/4 tsp almond extract
- 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
- zest of one small (or large, or medium – mine was small) lemon, preferably organic

Ground fine:
- 2 small dried rosebuds (just the petals, please – no stem/leaves)
- 2-4 saffron threads

Dry phase:
- 1 1/2 c all purpose flour
- 1/2 cup whole spelt flour (nuttier flavor, less gluten)
- 1 Tbsp baking powder
- 1/4 tsp salt

How to:

Preheat oven to 360 degrees.

Mix yogurt, sugars, and melted butter. Add eggs one at a time, then extracts/zest, and ground aromatics (rose & saffron). Promptly forget that you were baking a cake and go do something else for a few minutes, giving the saffron and rose a chance to infuse. Don’t worry about the raw eggs; you’re baking them for almost an hour soon.

Cut parchment paper (or greased foil, if you don’t have parchment) to fit the bottom of a 10 in cake pan. Don’t use a smaller one – it practically oozed out the sides of my 10 inch. Grease and flour the sides, plop in the parchment. Set aside.

Mix dry ingredients in another bowl, with a fork or a whisk, or fingers if you’re really bored.

Add wet to dry and fold/stir in whatever manner you like to use to minimize stirring (and therefore minimize gluten development/toughness). Pour into prepared pan and bake for 50-60 minutes, or until golden brown on top and a toothpick, after being inserted, comes out clean. Or until it’s done, you know – bake enough cakes and it tends to be reasonably obvious. There is nothing tricky about this here cake. Trust me on this.

Cool on rack for five to fifteen minutes, then turn over on rack to cool a little longer – turn back over to plop on a plate, original crust side up, when you feel like it – the crust is apparently one of the lovely parts. Devour.

And then consider checking out the recipe’s inspiration, over at the marvelous Clothilde’s blog, Chocolate and Zucchini..

It really can be more fun to give than to receive. December 6, 2008

This is B, in a hat I (finally) finished and sent him, of my own original yarn-combining (Malabrigo Worsted and Knitpicks Palette, if you must know) and design-composing um… design.

By sheer dumb luck with my measurements, it seems to meet his fits-in-pocket, covers-ear-tips-at-least and is-soft-and-warm qualifications, while not quite managing to clash terribly with his Mom-knitted scarf, whose warmth is so essential in numbing Salt Lake winters.

And, because he is a kind and generous soul, he even took time out of his math assignment grading to take pictures for me.

I am amused by his incredibly intent expression here…

And also by his inscrutable Lemony Snicket-ness here…

I’m not dead! August 21, 2008

I’ve just been entirely unmotivated in the crafting arena these past few months. Moving to Oakland really took it out of me, and deciding to go off my meds certainly couldn’t have helped.

I have been drifting a bit towards paper crafts though, and now have a little shelf dedicated to them above the foot of my bed. (that way, in an earthquake, it will come crashing down on my feet instead of my head, see?)

don’t inhale March 13, 2008

I need to obtain the pattern for this and knit it. NEED to.

Except I would make it black and hot pink.

Dishcloth Disorder March 11, 2008

I have knitted 2.85 dishcloths/washcloths in approximately 24 hours. <lj-cut text=”Hello, my name is Skewers and I am a yarn addict.”> Clearly, I am suffering from some kind of knitter’s malaise. All of my current projects are too annoying Snicket Socks, with my naturally achiote-dyed Peruvian wool), incredibly ready to be frogged (Rivendell Cloche, at too tight a gauge with too-stiff Brown Sheep Lamb’s Pride), too knitpicky (H’s scarf — Halcyon, S’s cowl, Ice Queen, also from Knitty), too interminable (J’s baby blanket), or simply long-forgotten (that goddamned lace project Candle Flame Shawl which I should just frog and get it over with, but I’m not quite ready to give up and I hate the yarn anyway, so what’s the rush??).

Enter: the dishcloths and washcloth. Quick to knit, easy to make from whatever cotton dischloth yarn is handy in my stash (thanks to Scarves and one of our many trips to Michael’s), whatever needles I can find (since I compulsively lend them and lose them this way) in the range of 5-10 (this is a big range, for you non-knitting folk), they provide instant gratification.

I wish, at this point, that everyone would just let me stop everything else (mostly work) and knit them dishcloths. I feel virtually no interest in keeping them. Owning them, yes. But it’s through sheer force of will that I’m not giving the two finished ones away. And even the delightfully soft pima cotton pointelle washcloth I’m keeping is, in a sense, for someone else. There is some strange disconnect between how much I want to own a pile of knitted dishcloths (a lot), how much I want to knit them (a lot), how many I have knitted to give away (a lot) and how many I want to give away (all of them). Weird, no? And not in the least altruistic-feeling. The whole shenanigan has the texture of a compulsion, a thing I’m doing because it feels good and I can’t quite help myself. Also, if I finish up all of the cotton yarn in my stash, I can justify buying more. This is what passes for stash-logic, apparently.

I am at least not alone in this. For starters, there’s the gals at Mason Dixon Knitting, two ladies who somehow manage with this obsession all the time.

They do make me feel a little like an addict, though. It’s not that I should be doing other things (which I should) or that I already have upwards of five projects on the needles (it’s true), or that there are way more interesting things in my queue (also accurate), or that I really do appreciate and adore the people I’m knitting for (even though it’s nigh unto impossible to feel guilty about taking forever on a handknit, especially when lace and or beads are involved), or that there’s a baby on the way and I’d like to have their blanket ready (I would!). It’s more the way I pick up a fresh ball of dishcloth cotton and think “just one more row should take the edge off.” Edge? What edge?? Huh? The one I just cast off?

Or, as bedtime nears, picking up a simple project like the last bits of a washcloth “just to help me relax a little.” As if I don’t have a vibrator in bed for that very purpose! For serious, guys. Maybe this is a disease.

…

…

Anybody want a dishcloth?

white elephant March 1, 2008

I’m going to this tomorrow:

White Elephant Flea Market

Oakland is very much like DC, except a lot less depressing.

Knitted Jellyfish and Buddha Butt Plug Joy February 22, 2008

Scarves,

I found a whole bunch of knitted jellyfish online.

This one is the cutest, I think, found over at Emma’s blog, some cool knitterly lady studying classics in VA. Her jelly blog post is here.

He looks particularly menacingly crazy in this photo, though: , don’t you think?

This, the first hit I found for “knit jellyfish” on Google, is the most elegant of the bunch and includes a free pattern. The free pattern for this pink and black textural beauty of a jellyfish can be found at the Luscious Gracious’ clan’s crafty blog here.

What I really want to knit next is this, though. Take a gander at Bob.

. I know exactly who to make it for, too, only I think everyone will want one. What does that say about my friends??

And I got a shiny new toy in the mail today.

.

The Tantus Little Flirt Anal Plug. Doesn’t Buddha look cute with it? I lost my old one, which was also, apparently, the old version. It was a wee bit inclined to slip out — this one is supposed to be cured of that difficulty. I’m so excited to try it and see if this new design, with a narrower, rectangular base and a longer, more slender shaft, works for me. I feel silly needing the tiniest butt plug known to mankind when my cunt is so accomodating, but some things ought not be rushed. Anal tissue isn’t like vulvar or vaginal tissue; it is not as resilient, does not repair as quickly, and is simply not built to withstand much in terms of pressure or friction. All this, for me, boils down to a teensy weensy new plug, in a fetching shade of copper.

Buddha and the plug are getting more comfortable in this pic. I like to think of them as buddies. The pairing reminds me a lot of the lovely products over at Divine Interventions, home of the Baby Jesus Butt Plug. I leave you a lovely, pleasurably pink piece of heresy.

Go take a look: Divine Interventions.

Heretically yours,

Skewers

Freaky Tuesday February 20, 2008

Skewers,

Do you think maybe we switched personas today? You worked on a scarf, in black. I worked on socks, size 2 DPNs, in purple. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeird.

DPNingly yours,

Scarves

Black Lace, Black Rose, Black, um… heart?? February 20, 2008

Just in case I wondered if working with E would be stressful after recent crap, at least the answer is clear. A big, resounding “yes.” After enjoying a weekend with precious few streaks of anxiety, even going to meet a lady for the first time. This has, at times, been sufficient to cause overwhelming nauseous anxious feelings — *you* try making a good impression when your stomach is doing such flip-flops that you barely suppress the urge to hold a hand up to your mouth, eh?

But I digress. Working next to her is indeed distinctly stressful. However, that’s apparently just part of my current bailiwick and I’m sure I will adjust. When she grows up and figures out how to be well and truly civil, I’m sure it will help. Women being very carefully civil to one another may be the worst kind of angry there is, but it does serve to keep the rest of life going in the middle of a stalemate.

At a Black Rose class tonight with H&L, I found myself unexpectedly shy, not wanting to even raise my hand to join the submissive head count. The topic was on service in submission.

Class description:
“Service submissive, with Ann Goodpet – Join us for a look at what service submission is – and what it is not. We’ll talk about how to find service opportunities and enjoy the work without getting overloaded, how to not be taken advantage of, and how to get your needs met also. Discussion will cover both short term service and also long term service contacts.
We will look at three service levels (life, house, personal) and types of services (work, chauffeur, domestic, escort, valet, personal, play, events), service to events, groups, leather families, multiple persons and service to both Dominants and submissives.”

This shyness is, as I explained to a slightly surprised H, actually par for the course for my inborn tendencies (along with general impatience and the belief that all arguments are for winning, no matter how I get there). Each time I, my little introverted self, took my courage in hand (despite the heart in my throat) and did something terrifying (like say hello to someone on the bus) without resultant disaster, I got a little braver. Learning social scripts really helps — but those are mostly learned by doing, but a lot of group social interactions are still just pretend, just role play. But that’s okay — because I’m really quite good at role play. And this comfort with role play is vital because February has yet to finish having its way with me. Even after leaving the office, dinner, the lovely distraction of friends. Even after getting home! I’m still plagued with the nauseous-anxious-flip-flop. Oy vey. Perhaps tonight I’ll actually sleep properly?

Meh. Thanks to S’ comfort with my weebles and good sensible advice, at least I calmed down enough this afternoon to go ahead and have a lovely evening, instead of canceling. It was a near thing, but I took myself for a walk and Hallelujah!, sanity re-emerged at least a little from its hidey-hole so that I didn’t have to join it in there. I swear. Sometimes I feel like the little introvert that could.

Well. Other than that, which was like a faintly annoying buzz at the back of my brain, the evening was lovely except for fouling up the black lace scarf I’m working on. I think I screwed it up this morning on the bus, and then again while listening to Ann get moving on her presentation, until I realized how very thoroughly I screwed it up, tried to work back a few rows, really truly realized *exactly* how much I fucked it up and scrapped trying to focus on it. I should bear this in mind when choosing projects when I’m back in class. Just simple ribbing and such, else… disaster! (It’s not too disastrous, really — I sorted it out on the way home on the Metro, because I am the mistress of my own knitting needles. So there.) Knitting this thing is such a damn masochistic move on my part. I will wonder what on earth I was thinking until it’s done. Lace? Black? A flat project?  Scarves, what was I thinking??

And now I’m idly listening to the ideological row brewing in my head between the “but we’re feminist and independent and we don’t have to nurture anybody at all if we don’t want to!” and the naggingly persistent desire to do serve. To hold doors (and, I may as well admit it, to courtesy when I do), pour tea, refresh water, fix collars, bathe, oil, dress, undress, make reservations, and generally make myself thoroughly sexually available. I even relish the thought of being “loaned out,” though I feel like that’s quite far in my future, requiring a very well-established d/s relationship and some level of comfort with the local bdsm community and some of the players in it.

::Yawn:: Most of the people-ick has finally fallen off my shoulders for the night, I think, though I might have to finish the job with a shower, late as it is. And hopefully I can come up with more intelligent commentary on the debate between my desires and my pesky ideologies later.

Just one more reason to love ravelry… February 18, 2008

Dear Scarves,

Unable to explore the Wonderland that is Ravelry today, I was at least quite amused to find this:.

Those ravelry guys are a real trip.  Oh, and have you taken a look at my edits to our “About” page?

- Skewers