Serenity Achieved

The other night I settled in to cast-off the stitches for the Serenity blanket. After almost two weeks of squinting, re-counting and, I'm not going to lie, more than a little bit of cursing, it was complete. And, if I do say so myself, really beautiful. I love this pattern and will definitely make it again albeit not immediately. I have been committed to working on one project at a time, and not casting on stitches, printing out patterns for or even fondling the yarn of the next project. It's amazing how much more I've been able to accomplish when I focus my undivided attention on one project. Hm. Weird.

(freshly cast-off and unblocked)

I am in love with the texture of this blanket!

Recently I heard someone talking (probably while I was knitting and watching TV while listening to music) about how nobody can truly multi-task. You're always actually only working on one thing, while temporarily neglecting the others. As part of the Game On challenge, my bad habit I am trying to remedy has been that I'm on the computer too much; specifically the internet. When the kids go to bed and the house is quiet, it's so easy to get sucked into just one more game of Word Twist, or reading one more blog post and dreaming about the next knitting project on Ravelry (an invaluable social networking site for knitters and crocheters), or the next recipe from 101 Cookbooks. No more. I've dedicated my evenings now to reading, watching TV and knitting. Monday nights, I meet some knitting friends at a local coffee shop and Tuesdays I take a yoga class from my friend, the sublime Ms. Jennifer Henry. 

Yoga is a whole other post, but suffice it to say, it's been the first time I've taken it and really just been able to get over myself. Maybe it's because the instructor is my friend but honestly she's just so real, you don't feel silly or awkward. It's not that you're uncoordinated or stiff, you just can't get into that position yet.

But back to my now 'free' evenings. I completed Serenity, then immediately cast on my first of two socks and before I knew it, I'd turned the heel on sock number two. Now, I just need to finish the foot of that sock and I'm casting on the Josie Newsboy Hat. I. Can't. Wait. to get my hands back on the lovely cashmere from Pepperberry Knits with which I will knit the Josie Hat and Agnes Rose to pin on it. 

If you're wondering why you just got to see the completed Serenity, since I'm the first to toot my own horn, it's because I realized after posting about it a couple times both on this blog and facebook that the recipient sometimes reads both. Whoopsie! Since this is posting on November 7th, I've traveled back to Massachusetts to gift it to the happy couple and am safely ensconced on a cross-country flight back to my fam.

It's the Climb

I know that I have been quite remiss in my posting, but the last month brought with it so many deadlines, details and deeds to be done. Family and friends came out for a visit, so I let the tour-guiding and hostessing commence.

I've been run, run, running except now it's not just to the grocery store. Over the last 3 months, I've logged almost 170 miles, according to my training tracker on dailymile.com and I'm starting to feel the aches in my joints as they protest such a large woman punishing her body like that. But in return, my body has been shedding weight and I'm now just shy of the 30 pound mark.

Despite that loss, when I look in the mirror I still feel frustrated because I have so much further to go, but then I take a step back at moments like Wednesday evening when I sprinted up the block to finish a 7.28 mile run, of which I didn't walk a step! In an hour and thirty-two minutes (less than the time it takes to loaf on the couch and watch a movie) I burned almost an entire day's worth of calories, and to date, I've lost over 10% of my former body weight. Now, it's time to focus on the next ten.

While I was feeling flustered, I also paused and thought how I would feel if one of my friends had told me they'd lost 30 pounds in three months. That's a huge amount of weight and I'm so much more comfortable in my skin because of it. But, more than the weight, I feel so much more fit. I may have the aches and pains that temporarily cause me to feel like an octogenarian, but overall, I'm in the best shape I've been in in a long time...maybe even ever.

I had the realization hit me of just how important this team, and the goal I have of completing the half-marathon on June 13th is to me. With my obsession with Sex and the City firmly established, I should not have to explain the underlying sacrifice in this decision; my girlfriends are going into New York City this weekend, but I declined joining them because I have a long training run that I know I won't complete on my own at another time. Yes, my friends, that is dedication.

I've had movers and cleaners come out to give quotes and faxed back contracts, I've purchased appliances that I picked out online, while talking to the Sears employee in Walla Walla, had delivered to the house which I had not yet seen the finished interior of, and a third party met them there and installed them for me. I had a minor moment when I thought the wrong tile was used on the fireplace surround, but additional pictures taken by the realtor and emailed to me, showed me that lighting was everything. That also gave me the chance to see my gleaming new appliances properly installed and just waiting for that Thanksgiving dinner or birthday cake. Bottom line; the assessment is done, the certificate of occupancy has been issued and all that remains is some sod being laid down and the closing of the deal

I have so much to cram into the next month before we leave; overwhelming doesn't quite hit it. In an effort to keep it simple, the boys' joint birthday party (H isn't technically 5 until August, but I want him to have a party with his friends) will be a breakfast in the park, with a tower o' glazed donuts serving as the cake. I'm getting rid of everything that I don't see even remotely using in the new house, while trying to remain realistic about the things that we don't really need to replace right away. All those towels and kitsch add up so quickly!

And in the mix of it all, I have these two beautiful boys who I need to prepare for the huge life-changing event of leaving all that they know, and making a new home across the country. It's such an odd feeling to be returning to my 'home' while at the same time taking my kids from theirs. I am so excited for the next phase in our life, but I'm also terrified to leave the one we're in.

And, that's the ten minutes I have free for today!

Jam Session

All supplies were finally gathered, and this girl made three batches of jam, leaving my heaving freezer finally relieved of it's burden o' berries.

The first was last night with my friend Alex, who narrowly escaped arrest on the way to my house. I am not exaggerating. Aparrently she and her husband made the minor oversight of neglecting to renew the registration on their car...for three months...which, in the Commonwealth, generally comes with an automatic trip to the pokey and an impounded car. Seeing as how she has an impeccable record and her big night out was to make jam; a fact which the officer duly noted, she was let go with the understanding that he would be alerting every officer in our town that if she were seen driving again prior to renewal...To the Moom, Alice!

So following a detour back home to get her husband's car, she arrived in one piece and we got smashed. Or the berries did anyhow. So crisis, and several hundred dollars in fines, averted, we commenced.

Here's all you need to make some really good berries into even better jam:

A large saucepan, two bowls/platters; one to measure your sugar into and one to smash the berries in, potato masher or blender (on CHOP not puree...I far prefer the potato masher), Jelly Jars with lids and rings, Wide mouth funnel, jar lifter, large pot with rack to keep jars from the bottom (I got mine from a hardware store...it's a boiling water bath canner), wooden spoons or spatulas, berries, SureJell (I used low-sugar for two batches and regular for one; the bowl o' sugar is the full-force one...and it also uses less fruit, sadly) tiny amount of butter or margerine (to help reduce foam) and a s*&$load of sugar. For the full sugar version, I actually had to switch over to my big soup pot or it would have boiled over.

If it's handy, you can also use your child's muscles to smash the berries...I employed this method on the second batch this morning.

Jars in the boiling water bath...process for about 10 minutes

Lined up like Pretty Maids All In a Row

Sally Capone: A Rant

Before we moved to the Commonwealth, J and I came out househunting for a weekend and left H behind. I learned a lot that weekend, but there was much that I didn't grasp. The realtor had described everything that was foreign to us from cannoli to the vehicle excise tax. In light of the fact that we imbibed all this information on Special K bars and water in the midst of seeing thirty-six houses in two days, it's easy to understand why I retained very little. (Can you tell our realtor was thin and full of energy? Yeah, I don't know about you, but I'm not the most pleasant when I have to skip meals.)

I've ranted about the excise tax before, but this year it gets even better. It's almost May, I've just barely paid mine but only after threat of a warrant being issued for me. Yes, that would be cost effective. First, they'd have to pay a divorce attorney because it would be all unbeknownst to J as he drove home in his trusty Ford Focus that he had $55.12 owed to the great Commonwealth and that was the reason he was being arrested after a 12-hour shift.

THEN they'd have to pay for court-appointed counsel because our broke asses can't afford an attorney for the 'charge' of what I guess you could call tax evasion.

Here's how it played out.

Month 1: Oh, here's that pesky excise tax again.

Month 2: Shoot! I didn't pay that, okay, must remember to pay.

Month 3: Note is accompanied by a "Do Not Ignore This Invoice" note and a bill. Tried to pay online. Can't. Went to send check, no more checks in checkbook. Sure that using checks from bank we no longer bank at would be in poor taste, and would probably add check fraud to above criminal charge.

Mid-Month 3: Notice of next course of action: Warrant. Okay, already, I'll pay it. Seriously, does this seem a little aggressive to anyone else? We're not talking years without paying.

If you want me to pay when I have two small children at home, could you at least enable an online payment system? How about taking payment by credit card over the phone? No? Oh, yeah, these were all options I gave to the very helpul and chipper woman at the town treasury office.

Seriously, if you want me to pay money for a car that I own that is being devalued daily by your poorly maintained and salt-ridden roads; please, please give me an easy way to do it. Because if I have to add the cost of foster care because the two trips for this one errand; one to the bank to get money orders and one to the town offices, results in me exploding in a Hulkian rage, I will finally qualify for my own movie. Except instead of a sweet mob version where I'm Al Capone, it would be more Meredith Baxter-Birney when she was shoving fast food in her mouth as a cautionary tale against bulimia on Lifetime Television for Women.

Pay your taxes, folks.

Stick(er) It To 'Em

Yesterday, our salesman delivered the focus to our house. No, that was not a typo, he delivered the car to our house because J was going to be gone during business hours. What service! I felt as if I were having a new Mercedes dropped by for me.

After installing H's seat, I prepared myself to take our first spin, as J had done all the test-driving alone while I waited with H at the dealership...I already knew what a Focus was like, so I was content to stay behind. I slid behind the wheel, and it took a second to realize what was 'wrong.' Yes, I felt small and close to the ground compared to our other car, but that wasn't it. Hmmm...well, my butt was sweaty, but after I figured out how to turn off the seat heater, I ruled that out...something was still odd.

Then it hit me...the windshield was completely devoid of stickers, pike passes, and apartment 'please don't tow me stickers.'

Good Lord! I had almost forgotten all of the bureaucracy associated with being a resident/vehicle owner in the glorious Commonwealth of Massachusetts. After getting off the phone with our insurance company and the dealer I had a short list of about 100 things I needed to do within 14 days of taking possession of the car...and I thought buying a house would be bad! We naively thought that going through a dealer would be the 'quick' process that it is in Oregon. While they do complete all the RMV paperwork for us, there is still a 'pre-insurance inspection' the Mass Safety Inspection, and then there will be the forthcoming Town Of Shrewsbury Vehicle Excise Tax, about which I've previously written. Luckily the Mass inspection is paid for by the dealer and the pre-insurance by the insurance company, but still...

J had recently commented to someone, in his oh-so-Vulcan dry humor that it has been proposed to have a 35-hour work week in Massachusetts, so that the other five hours can be dedicated to filling out all the paperwork associated with living here. He received a blank look in return. The man said 'What? Is it a lot here?' Uhhhhh, yes, yes it is. It's almost sad that someone would think that the volume of red-tape is 'normal'. Oh well.

The important thing is, we've got our second car, we'll soon have all our little window decorations and I will be driving around like Beyonce singing "All you women, independent, throw your hands up at me!"

Taxation without Representation

When we told everyone we were moving to Massachusetts, several people joked to us that we were moving to Taxachusetts...I'm starting to see that it's not really a joke.

After several months of successfully crossing our fingers and waiting to register our car so that we wouldn't be stuck with what I'll call the "bull-shit tax" (it is assinine that a person would pay sales tax to one state for an item which was not purchased in said state, while the purchaser was resident of the other state in which the item was purchased, but that's just me I guess), I received a bill in the mail for our "excise tax", due to the City in the beginning of January.

I politely called the City and explained that our car had been registered in our previous state, where we purchased our car as residents of that state, for six months, so we should not have to pay the sales tax. I was using that voice that has a question at the end making them think that you're being pleasant instead of assertive. Being raised in rural America definitely taught me that you get more flies with honey than vinegar.

"Ma'am, do you have Massachusetts plates now?" Me: "Yes". "Okay, that triggers a notice for the excise tax." Me: silence, then "So, this is a different tax?" "Yes, Ma'am. Each year, you'll pay an excise tax of $25 per 1000 of your vehicles valuation." Me: "Awesome, I'm so glad that we fought the revolutionary war in order to get away from tyranny and a government that taxes you at every turn."

Honestly, I thought that the land of Paul Revere would be a little less excited about the whole, lets add tax to taxes thing, but I guess I'm wrong.