Thank-you Santa!

I know it has been awhile since my last post. As the holidays come close, I am always swamped with deadlines. Now I am able to breathe a bit and play with my new Ipod.. I was feeling a little left out of the Ipod craze when even my mother bought herself a pink Ipod mini. As she sat snapping her fingers to Tina's Greatest Hits, on one of her many trips to Mohegan, I sat staring out the window brooding because I lost my techie creds by being Ipodless. However, Santa showed me much love ths Christmas and my wish was granted. I am loving it and started knitting a cover right away ( pictures to come later). Don't want the shiny parts to get scratched! The other thing I love is Podcasts. I can get my photoshop jones on with a video Podcast from Photshop TV or catch up on world news. BUT, the most rewarding thing I have found are KNITTING PODCASTS! WOOOOOO HOOOOOO! I am in knitting nirvana. The first one I started listening to is Knitcast. . It is hosted by Marie Irshad out of the UK. and is loaded with tons of information and news from across the pond. Another knitting podcast i am listening to is Cast On and it features news, views, and the latest independent music KniTunes, hosted by Brenda Dayne out of Wales.
The easiest way to download the podcasts is through Itunes 6. Just type in the name and download for FREE . . . or you can use a podcast aggregator like iPodder or iPodderX to subscribe and download. It's just so beautiful!

Complete Standstill

Everything has halted. Nothing is moving. MTA is on strike and New York City has to find alternate means to navigate the concrete jungle during this cold, holiday season. What other way to get respect than to hit the city where it hurts, in their DEEEEP pockets. Hopefully a resolution will come soon. Children are really left out in the cold because it is really hard for them to get to school. It almost doesn't make sense to send them to school since it opens two hours late and their is no means for them to get home. UUGGHH . . .

Haven't done much knitting, like the city, I am at a standstill.

Pray For Me...

I need help, I really do. I seems I can't go into a yarn store without coming out with a bag full of yarn. This is how much yarn I have purchased in the last two weeks . . . all with good intentions. Here is the breakdown, including intended projects:

• Lionbrand Woolease Chunky - Mali's Scarf


• Cascade 220 Wool (teal) - Mom's Ripple Shawl (I know,I know. I didn't like the hand of the one I started. That's why it stayed in my knitting basket)


• Patons Decor -Pillows
• Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Chunky - Ms. Briana's Panta (yep,I decided to do it over)


• Lionbrand Lionsuede - Haven't really decided yet.
• Louet Sales Gems Sapphire (LOVE THIS YARN!) - Baby hat for my Nephew

Soy yes, I admit it, I am a bonafide YARN-A-HOLIC! I haven't gone to a meeting yet cause I am hoping the crying from my pockets will halt my next purchase and shock me into submission. So please, pray for me.

The Pantas

Part 1: I started knitting this Panta (a finnish Headband) for Ms. Briana. I loved the vibrant colors of the Red Heart Kids Yarn in beach and when she visited in the summer, she loved it too. However, once I finished knotting it, I was not loving it. The hand was too rough for me and I couldn't put that on Ms. Briana's little head.

Part 2: So I started to knit another Panta for Hanah. On one of my frequent trips to the yarn store, I picked up this WONDERFULLY soft wool yarn that was on sale. As I was going through my yarn stash I knew this would be perfect for Hannah . . . especially since she is sporting a red coat this winter and her favorite color is pink. The picture is a little dark and you can't really see the pink, black and gold yarns twisted throughout. I am loving the way this is turning out! Now, I just need to knit a little faster..

She's Gotta Have It . . .

I couldn't help myself. It was sitting there on the shelf calling my name. I tried to resist but it's pull was too strong. Truth is, I loved the first book, Knitting on the Edge. I have learned so much from it in terms of what I can add to my knitting projects. This book takes it up a notch. I am especially eager to try the applique flowers with the basket weave edge. I think that would make the CUTEST little girl's baby blanket (hint, hint ... wishful thinking).

Good Night, Mudbone

[FLASHBACK 1987]... We had an agenda. We had been antsy all day ever since her discovery at the bottom of the hall closet. Being that it was Wednesday, we wouldn't have to wait for long. School let out early every Wednesday. The usual stroll down 125th. Street to meet the boys coming out of Rice H.S. had to be postponed. THIS was too important. Everyone thought we were crazy as we made a b-line towards the bus stop. We didn't even stop to gossip, as we customarily did to catch up on what went on in other classes. The bus was pulling into the stop and we ran full speed. As the bus raced through Central Park, we made a list of what we needed from the corner store. We heard the train pulling into the station and again beat Colgate track records as we raced down the steps and onto the train taking us uptown. The train ride was quick (not many people on at that time of day) and we exited the station two steps at a time. We headed over to the Bodega and ordered 2 ham & cheese heroes, with lettuce, tomato, salt and pepper and mayo, ran to the back and picked up two pepsis, a huge bag of plain Lays potato chips and 2 packs of butter crunch cookies. We jetted to 152nd. Street and again took two steps at a time to get to her house. As she checked the sound system, I laid out the sandwiches and ran to the kitchen for the hot sauce, spread out the Lays and practiced a heavy hand with the hot sauce, opened the pepsis' and took a seat. It began with a quiet voice explaining the intimacies of adult relations and lead into everyday life occurrences. We laughed so hard until Pepsi came through our noses and the Lays made intricate patterns on the floor. And there he was, Mr. Mudbone, explaining how he dealt with life and how you should too. 3 albums later and bellies aching from so much laughter, we cleaned up. We handled the albums so delicately, like precious artifacts,and placed them back in their sleeves. We made sure we placed them as we found them. It was taboo to touch them. But teenage curiosity got the best of us and we had to find out what the praise was all about. Our parents always talked about him and watching which Way is Up on channel 11 became a Saturday afternoon event.

[FASTFORWARD 2005] ... Jamie Foxx called into the Steve Harvey morning show expressing his heavy heart over Richard Pryor's passing. It is sad that he is gone but it's a relief that his suffering has ended because he was ill. He led a very full life. The only way to honor him is to do it right, expressed Steve Harvey. Jamie Foxx chimed in that he would definitely love to be part of it. They also spoke of getting other comedians in on the tribute. Eddie Murphy, The Wayans Brothers, and Chris Tucker to name a few. I really hope it happens. I really do. Good Night, Mudbone . . . and Thank-you.

So Loving Technology . . .

Africa's major world heritage sites, like the rock-hewn St Giyorgis church at Lalibella, in Ethiopia and Mali's great mosque of Djenne will soon be accessible in virtual form. An innovative project aimed at their preservation is underway led by Heinz Ruther, professor of Geomatics at the University of Cape Town. Using latest techniques in laser scan and computer technology, Prof Ruther and colleagues are creating three-dimensional models and virtual landscapes of several Unesco World Heritage sites with the primary objective of immortalizing the buildings and structures in digital form, in case they are destroyed. Read more here: bbc news.

Idle Hands . . .

A funny thing happened on my trip to Michael's. After I entered the front doors, I was in sensory overload and I got the "crafter's itch". I had to have EVERYTHING! This is the result of cruising the beading section and a little down time. Excuse me while I do my happy dance . . .

ADD is Kicking In . . .

It began with the most heartfelt intentions; wanting to provide warmth for my Mother's frequent trips to Mohegan Sun and Foxwoods. But the Ripple Shawl sits untouched in my knitting basket. Everything else seems to be piquing my interest. I find myself playing tag with Sheba around the coffee table or drooling over the Patons Decor yarn I purchased with the intention of making a blanket (but have decided on pillows instead). Lawd, help me as I daydream about hitting the yarn store to get some Koigu! The thought of my Mom's "hit me" finger cramping due to the cold is causing guilt pains. I just need to focus. Now where did I put that Vogue skirt pattern again ......

The First

The first snowfall of the season always leaves me in awe. As the snow blankets the city, a calming hush overtakes the blair of sirens and neon lights. There is nothing like waking up to discover it has snowed during the night. I rushed through the house like I was a five year old waking everyone so that they could see the freshly fallen snow before the filth and grime of the streets had a chance to take over. Armed with boots, hats, gloves and scarves, Mali, Sheba and I ventured over to Prospect Park to take it all in. Sheba had a ball running and eating the snow while Mali and I pelted eachother with snowballs in a mock battle. Satiated, we headed home, randomly throwing snowballs at buses passing by. Once inside, we gave in to the steaming cups of hot chocolate ... and with warmed bellies, were lulled asleep by the sound of the snow plows making their way up the street. There is nothing like the "First Snow".

Finding Barnes (Barnes & Noble on a Saturday Afternoon)

There is nothing more heavenly to me than sitting on the floor in the middle of a bookstore, head buried into a found treasure. Once I step through the doors, I am in sensory overload and my head begins to spin. I don't know where to begin . . . magazines, bargain bin, new arrivals. I begin to itch like an addict in need of a fix, so I grab everything I find of interest. By the time I reach the escalator to head downstairs to the crafts and romance sections, my arms are overflowing with my "booty". After I peruse through the design and cooking sections, I find a spot in the African American section where I can sit undisturbed with pictures of Angela and Malcolm challenging my inner revolutionary.
I can remember the first time I needed a book fix. I was about nine years old and our television broke. My mother refused to buy another one. (Actually, it took her some time to save up for a new color TV., but she didn't want us to know it). So, we had to settle for the radio or a good book. Reading was natural to me. It allowed me to escape into worlds that I thought were much better than mine at the time. I often found myself running through the woods to escape to freedom along with Amos Fortune Freeman and Harriet Tubman or walking through the closet and saving a world from the tyranny of the Ice Queen in Narnia. I looked forward to my Saturday escapades to the library on Broadway. Once up the stairs and through the doors , the smell of the old written word was like the aroma of freshed baked pie to me. Sooooo Gooood.
Now, as an adult, my inner brown girl still longs for those crumpled pages and silent moments. However, I have been faced with another challenge, fostering the love of reading in my son. When he was younger, we read constantly. I would search high and low for books that would reflect him and our people in a positive light so that he would have a good sense of himself and the acheivements of our ancestors. One day I came across the book Misoso and was facinated by the tales within. Lele Goro, the first tale quickly became our bed time favorite and I would have to read it almost every night before he went to bed. Now that he is older, he will only read if he has to. I don't understand it. Don't get me wrong, he is an excellent student but he just doesn't have the same love of reading. While I danced through the aisles holding the latest novel, he grumbled about leaving (but he soon found a Matrix Comic Book that held his attention for about ten minutes). I want him to know the joy of escaping into the world of words and imagination. I want him to get the rush of discovering the adventures that lie on the ancient shelves of the local library. I want him to have an appreciation of the written word so that his words can perform somersaults as soon as they are released. I want him to eventually find Barnes, and dance through the aisles like his mother.