At least there is a reason why I don’t have a clue, one of the Finns explained to me today. A professor of Human Geography, he warned that you can’t figure out much without a knowledge of the basic grammar.
Unlike most other languages which developed some sense several thousand years ago (and then there is Estonian and Finnish), there are no articles in Finnish. Rather, all those designations, to include prepositions, some actions and modifiers are provided by one or more of the 32 potential suffixes. That is right my friends, not only do you have to know the root word, you have to hear the rest of the word to figure things out. Even more fun than Russian with six cases. So it is not just an excess of l, j, k, m, n, v along with common t, r, and s. Or the almost never seen d, z, c, q, x, b, c. It explains all those in, en le la. Vowels, I will reassure you, are plentiful and may be used in combination. But there are really an amazing number of ls and ns out there. The grammatical process that causes those incredibly long word is agglutinative morphology.
I think it might be easier to settle for just being an erect (most days) bipedal, plantigrade being with flat nails. I will disagree with the presumption that we are the only species that passes down knowledge along with genetics. (Marine biology anyone?)
I also found yarn. Two stores, Sypressi and the Finnish equivalent of Husfliden. And then there is www.pirtinkenhraamo.fi .
The kids had the camera today. Or not, as it turned out.
My conference starts late this afternoon with a reception. I suppose I should have come in today instead of yesterday. But I always get concerned at such things and appreciate not having to worry about being late, lost or otherwise confused. This post is picture heavy; you have been warned.
with me out and about for the early part of the day.
When you don’t make them do anything, it is amazing. They are willing to see a few things at the City Museum about the history of Helsinki
what the city was
and what it has survived
We were reminded of the 700 years of Swedish “involvement”
the shipping industry which moved from here toward Germany
there were also the Russians. Last Century, and during WWII. This sweater dates from the 1940s
Elsewhere in Europe, the tulips bloomed last month. In Finland, it is still under 20°C most days and there are beds of tulips in all the major parks.
Helsinki is a city of Art Deco, of interesting buildings all dating from the late 1800s on.
We had enough time after we arrived yesterday to do a bit of wandering around, seeing a few things
and Owls – looking downward over doorways.
We are staying at the Eurohostel – part of the Youth Hostel International Organization. Everyone staying here is not a student or young traveler. I wish those that were young did not feel obligated to pound out signals to each other through the walls.
The good thing about rain is that it keeps away some of the other tourists. Rather than give you long descriptions, I will just tell you to go here to read about the Castle, think about Henry VIII and know that people lived here as late as the 1960s. Yes, there is a golf course. No, I didn’t make any effort to take pictures of it. These photos are in gallery form. To see better, click the button in the upper right had corner of the post to eliminate the sidebars. To “bigger” a picture, click on it. I will build a page in the next day that includes all of these, plus photos of the grounds, the aviary, the duckery and the sheep.
Sock Wars III
The Obits continue. The shortest and clearest is
Dead, dead, dead.
Darn, Darn, Darn.
Killed two before I perished.
By beautiful Tofutsies Yarn.
Friends, Enemies, and Cannibals:
The Black Priestess of the Divine Faustus was slain, laid low by the hand of the most Fearsome and Deadly Tracy. Tracy is known (or not known) by her silence on the forums; rather than spend time in idle banter, she watches, she stalks, she knits, and when the moment is perfect SHE STRIKES! For her pains Tracy will receive incomplete socks in a really awful combination of pastels, but at least she will have the opportunity to try knitting with corn fiber yarn (Maizy).
The Black Priestess is survived by two large dogs, five cats and a rooster. The dogs are distressed by her departure from this life, but the cats think there is enough meat on her carcass to keep them all going for a few weeks, at which point they will kill and eat the dogs, plus now they have all that yarn to play with.
The rooster has a brain roughly the size of half a pea, and has no opinion on the matter.
This post is long enough. I will hold the fiber for tomorrow.
In which I get extremely frustrated and hang it all.
Imagine the following:
1.I have to head back to the UK today.
2.Round 5 on Sock Madness is about to start – with the pattern to be released between 7-10 am in the US. That comes out to be 1300-1600 my time.
3. I have to catch the Strass at 1329 to make sure that I make my train connection in Mannheim. I could leave later but if the Bahn is wonky then I have flight issues.
Did I mention that I had doodled away most of the morning running errands with the Voice (currently hoarse)? Sprinting through the house and packing like made, I checked my email before turning off the computer.
S-Bahns run on time, trains don’t. Leaving early turned out to be a great idea as I made my connection in Mannheim. From there I call home, get the teen to log into my email box just in case and wait.
As I am pulling into the Fernbahnhof at Fraport, my handi rings. It is CelticMemoryYarns calling from Ireland to make sure that I had the pattern since it had been out for almost a couple of hours.
Nope, I am on the train. She texts me the pattern. (Is this woman great or what?)
Meanwhile, I drop off my bag at Lufthansa (life is easy) and get through the first security check point.
Sitting on the floor of Terminal B with my yarn
I knit the first toe and look at the pattern.
It doesn’t compute. The stitch numbers don’t balance. I txt Jo, she checks and gets back to me later with the corrections. Meanwhile, I am prepared with extra needles and knit the second toe.
Starting the pattern, it seems strange, there are issues with second row as well, but I am now on the plane.
It is still Pesach and the sandwhiches are turkey. Now cheese would have been fine – I would wipe the bread off the cheese. But turkey? I eat more nuts from my trailmix bag.
I fight the socks, and they fight me through Immigration, bagagge claim, customs, the bus, the train, the wait and the second train.
Knitting while walking from the Camberley Train Station to the Royal Military Academy just is not in the cards. It has gotten cold and I left my fleece jacket in Heidelberg.
Rolling into the house – it is now 2030 I go on line first thing. I look at the pattern. I am not knitting the pattern, I am knitting something else.
I have two sock feet done, ready to fight with the heels. But that second row of the pattern – it is P1, K31, P1 – just like Jo txt, but I wrote it down P1 K3 P1. I had quit taking pictures while on the plane, it just didn’t make sense and I wasn’t having a lot of fun documenting that everything looked strange.
So I am not going to show you two feet done incorrectly.
I just am going to hang the whole thing. Getting sleep tonight and going to work in the morning fresh is much more important.
What I have learned from this pattern and the last is that test knitters are critical. They have to knit the pattern as it is written, from charts and from words. Mistakes do happen, we are all human. When you are writing a pattern for a contest, it is not the same as writing for open knitting where people are free to change whatever doesn’t suit them. It has to be precise and explicit. Every word has to be checked and accurate. Repeats have to be defined as to how many.
Making me much happier is this bobbin of fine wool singles.
Yes, singles. The roving was a tri-colour white, light blue, and black. A delight to spin, I varied the amount of each as I went to arrive at a progression of change. I have a nice contrasting light grey alpaca which will be the second ply.
Since I wasn’t knitting – I went back to The Outlaw Demon Wails by Kim Harrison. It is the 6th Rachel Morgan book. I am enjoying it, the sub-plots are interesting. Don’t be put off by the blurb, which is not an accurate reflection of the story. Good review here.
Munich this morning felt washed by rain. At 0730 there are fewer people on the streets. It still took almost half an hour to get a picture of the Toy Museum unencumbered by too many buses or trucks.
And Karlstor still appeals to me
Obviously I had yarn left over from Sock Madness. Enough that knitting at least one Kippah was a necessity. The challenge was to take the leaf pattern and convert it so that the numbers and the shape came out correctly. I think I have it – four doubles (31 stitches on each of four sides) but have to really see how the X on the top appears once it is blocked. I also have to finish writing it up.
Facing a train ride home, it was easier to start a new sock than to work with the bulk of the Hodge-Podge. Regia in Barcelona of the City Colour Series. I am adapting a stitch patten and will see if it is worth posting when finished.
It feels nice and springy I bought this ball and one of Stahl yesterday. The other will be used for the next up Sock Madness.
Books in various formats
Finished Poison Sleep. Enjoyed it enough to go back and purchase the first book in the series.
Finished Time Crime (H. Beam Piper) in Podiobook. Written in the mid 50s – some of the technology used seems extremely old fashion today – and then some of it seems wildly predictive of the present. A quick and fun listen, the reader could have been better.
Started Serve it Cold by Ronnie Blackwell- produced at the Dancing Cat Studios. I haven’t decided whether or not I like the story – but the production is fantastic. A veritable audio play, but not hokey like some of the old time radio programs.
Reserving a seat next to a plug on the train turned out not to be of much benefit. Lovely old man next to me plus a lot of glare proved to be more than enough in the way of watching a DvD while I knit so Disk 2 of Charmed Third Season will just have to wait.
Located in Bavaria, Munich (look for the British Flag on the bar) combines both modern technology and building practices with a lot of old world charm. (Tourist booklet here.) Not strictly a place of high rise cement or square corners, I happily walked around with my camera.
Never mind that I wound up buying yet another umbrella.
There is absolutely no way that I can explain the fact that it never rains when I pack an umbrella. And why would I pack an umbrella when it isn’t raining? I don’t even think about it. Which explains why I was getting wet while walking from Odeonsplatz to Marienplatz, passing by the Residence.
Under construction, I still like both the Residences outdoor gardens and the painted drop cloth facing the street.
The arch is quite commonly seen and I was in time to hear 1800 rung on the main clock as well as watch the whole cycle on the clock. (Yes, I know that all the tourist information says that they ring the clock at 1700. This is daylight savings time folks, they don’t change the time of clock ringing – we just hear it at a different time)
I ended up in the area around Karlstor.
Did I mention that it was raining? Or that if you want sock yarn, Karstadt is cheaper than Kaufhof Galleria?
(Hopefully the pictures should stay in the order loaded. If you click – a larger version should load)
No knitting pictures today – not possible to put them here and keep them out of the gallery. Besides, you saw enough yellow on Mon and Tues that you should be able to make it till tomorrow.
One of the Tagung traditions is that there is an official dinner at the end of the first day of the meeting. It doesn’t matter if you are speaking about the Medical BioDefence, Chem Defence or Rads Defence. All three Institutes hold that dinner for their respective conference. In the last few years, it has primarily been held at a Gasthaus that is within walking distance of the SanAk’s caserne.
Not this year. As dinners go – these are fine. Business civilian attire suffices and there are less than five minutes of speeches or announcements. It really is just a friendly dinner out with all the conference attendees. 225 of your best friends, when you add in the occasional spouse.
We were bused to Lustheim, just north of Munich. Of course, there is a castle – of the manor house variety.
After dinner, I headed outside to see more of the castle grounds. The gate was closed. All I could do was read the directions sign while I waited for the bus back.
Never mind I slept last night like the truly burned out, at 2200 I was ready to finish catching up on my missed sleep.
Oh joy, it was raining when I crawled out of bed this morning with less that 5 hours of sleep. Getting dressed was not that rough and my suitcase was packed. I even located my car keys, cell phone and passport.
There was the particulary jobsworth at the train station.
Informed me at 0610 (train comes at 01618) that I should have bought my ticket from the vending machine
Vending Machine didn’t have a place for a discount.
Yes, it does.
Well, I could not easily find it and could not see my way clear to paying full fare when I am can use HRM Military discount.
It is right there.
Fine, but you are here to sell tickets, aren’t you?
80 minutes later I am at Heathrow, much of it slow train, waiting and even slower bus time. No way could I have taken the 0718 and made the flight.
I have preprinted my boarding pass. The first gatekeeper stops me – your wheeled carryon looks too big. I demonstrate- it fits in the size thing. Been taking it on the plane for two years. Never mind that the airlines have dropped the size of their overheads, I can make it fit (grin).
Heading down the runway – I got to see the infamous Terminal 5
The extremely kind, wonderful guy to whom I am married even picked me up at Frankfurt. At stop at the commissary and we were home in plenty of time to wash, chop and cook vegetables. The youngest two pitched in with minimal complaints. The Mole did wonderfully and didn’t even blink at being up and about.
From getting ready (anyone want to explain why my brain kept telling me 1830 like every other year when it turned out the starting time was 1930? I could have taken a nap. Really could have used that nap).
It was well after 2300 when we returned – turkey and leftover tzimmes in tow. Staggered toward bed, it was a really long day, to be topped by a week of eating flavourless cardboard (excuse me, Matzah!)
What I am not going to do is post pictures of all the Kippot – go here if you want to see a good number
High Country – Nevada Barr – almost through disk 4/5 in the car.
Time Crime – H. Beam Piper (Podibook – current recording of this 1956 classic.)
Small Favor – Jim Butcher in Hardback (yes, the latest Dresden File .) His page is worth visiting, and the short story is what you might call unexpected cute.
The flight to Detroit was full.
The flight to Frankfurt was full. Added to the joy of crying babies were a number of teenagers returning home from an exchange program. Flight never did quiet down. I knit, tried to sleep. I am not sure what is with the design on the cattle class seats on NWA, but I can’t sleep in them or even sit comfortably. Perhaps too much lumbar curve? Even leaning up against the teen (boy child, referred as the Mole by his sisters) I only caught a few winks.
Since I hadn’t managed to sleep more than a few hours here and there, I was not in the best of moods on arrival in Frankfurt.
There I am, saying good-bye to the kids. I have my backpack, suitcase…I don’t have my jacket. Mole, says I, did you take my jacket down from the overhead compartment.
He looks at me tiredly. No, doesn’t think so.
I traipse back to the check in counter. Yes, they have found my jacket – go back through to lost and found to claim.
This means security again, complete with an inspection of my suitcase since I have no one to leave it with. Just very glad, at the moment that I do not have any liquids in the suitcase (checked baggage here, shall we talk about my nice expensive scissors that they decided I could keep?).
There is almost no one left in Baggage Claim E. The poor woman at the counter is stressed out of her mind. She tells me so. And wants to know why I am there.
Check in counter sent me. They say you have my jacket.
No, it is at the gate.
Can I go there?
No, why are you here?
Because the check-in counter sent me. I can go back to the gate if you let me.
She finally slams off and walks to the gate herself, coming back with my jacket.
She is stressed. Her counter handles British Airways. Enough said.
In my pocket is one of my passports……
Check-in on Lufthansa was easy in comparison. Even standing in the security line for 45 minutes didn’t phase me a bit.
Nor did the bus ride from Heathrow to Feltham, the train and the train or the walk from the station.
I just was glad to get home.
13 of them in a pile, waiting on finishing and blocking. Not a bad output for the flights.
Since our flight times were close enough (1200 and 11255), we planned on all going to the airport on one run (rental car might actually pay itself off on this one).
The scheduled brunch was 0930 which meant that we had breakfast early. Something about not being able to manage on-line check in for my DH who had the earliest flight. I went on line early to check for me and the three teens. Once again the airline had taken my nice seating plan and changed it to four seats in a row in the back. I re-seated us toward the front of the plane, and not all together, thank you very much.
We are headed back through Detroit and should arrive in Frankfurt right before 0800 in the morning.
Kippahs are on the agenda, I still have left over sock yarn. I am not knitting socks. I am bored with socks for a couple of days.
On to Star Surgeon (circa 1959) by Alan E. Nourse and The Onion Files should the batteries hold out.
A day spent at the Mall of America.
(all pictures were added once home and on my own computer. (my DH has this really weird keyboard that is driving me nuts. It has no touch pad; instead one of those little red rubber things in the middle of the keyboard making navigating on the page totally insane)
But first – last evening. Arriving at the hotel, I checked us all in and was left with the problem of how to find my planned entertainment. Knitters are generous, one had offered to give me a ride to O’Shaunessy auditorium. She was felled by what ever is going around along with her entire family.
I managed to get to Summit Ave in St Paul, a nice Gold Star cab with GPS solved the problem.
The Harlot was worth the trip.
Even better there are Cathy-Cate and Deb . The first managed, in spite of the weather to make the trip from Eau Claire, bringing along lace weight Nit Picks so that I could do this round of Sock Madness. Kilos of yarn I have in the stash and nothing that is even remotely lace weight. Deb, saving me a seat and making me feel a part of her whole circle of knitting friends. And then there is the wonderful Stella (I don’t have either her Ravelry name or Url) who gave me, a total stranger, a ride back to the hotel on this windy snowing, sleeting really weather ugly night.
None of us stayed for the book signing, there was just a little bit of a line with weather getting worse by the moment.
Which leads me to this morning – or the whole day actually. Mall of America. Building this huge, insane maze of a place and the shoppers come. Completely indoors (this is Minnesota, it is freaking cold. April and it is snowing – go figure) it sports over 450 constantly changing stores and amusement park rides. Enough eateries that anyone should be able to find food along with screaming kids.
We did the family meet up regularly. I bagged the place about 1800. IHOP was the hands down favorite since it was right next to the hotel.
Crashing was next on my list, since I had been up since rather early. Like well before 0500 early. You see, I had this pattern, and lovely, lace weight (ack) yarn for Sock Madness – round three.
by 0930 I was here –
and finished the first sock today; the second half of the sock taking all afternoon due to the shopping interuptions. It is a fast pattern and I probably could have finished this one up and gotten at least of the second sock done if I could have just knit…. (But really, this is only a sock knitting contest. And it was Mall of America and the kids were interested in shopping).
Which reminds me – you know serendipity? It is when you go into the Ritz Camera Store on level three to replace the lens cover you lost yesterday and get waited on by a pleasant young man in his early 30s. I looked at his first name on his tag and the neurons fired. I don’t think I had seen him since his Bar Mitzvah, his parents and I knowing each other since we were all students at the U of MN. In fact, this particular young man was borrowed at age not 4 to be the ring bearer in our wedding…
and counting. Or longer, once I think about it.Up before 0600 (Germany time), to the train station, to Frankfurt Flughafen.
Across the chanel
across the US and most of Michigan to land
in Detroit. It might be a great city, but the airport leaves a bit much to be desired.
Especially when you have only 20 minutes from grabbing your luggage to get through an endless line at customs prior to rechecking your bags. Then you have to go through security again. I have never figured this one out. Exactly what could I have possibly done between getting off the plane, immigration and customs? Bought weapons? Drunk fluids? There isn’t even anything to buy!
Still, it is security screening all over again, complete with walking on their dirty carpet with my nice handknit socks while running my evil shoes through the scanner.Naturally, our connecting flight was in a different section of the concourse. After waiting for five minutes, it was a 30 second ride. They were boarding as we got to the gate.
Arriving in Minneapolis, the kids were wiped, but maintained a sense of humor.
I still had plans for the evening, but haven’t gotten organized. Will do that tomorrow, complete with pictures.
The kippah count for the day was seven.
MP3 players are the only way to go. Billi Baddings to the rescue.
Ms Copper and I left the house before 0800, stopping at my office to pick up a my card reader before grabbing luggage and hiking to the train station.
Camberley to Ascot. Change trains. Ascot to Feltham, take a bus. Now, it looks like there are two buses to Heathrow. Not wanting to send the young lady off on her own – we both rode to Healthrow Central Station.
Down a couple of stories is a free train to T5. I waived her off, then escalatored back up to T2. And hung out and hung out. Knitting is good for not wasting time. So is listening to audio books.
By the time I reached Frankfurt, I had knit two kippahs, knit, frogged and restarted a third. I didn’t bother to take pictures. Waiting till the ends are woven in and they are blocked.
We caught the train to Mannheim, the connector to Heidelberg. It was raining. A lot, so I justified taking a cab to avoid a long hike in the rain.
And then there was the commissary run, the set up the computer, the HMEDDAC run to get a critical script for one of the teens, and the “does everyone have their passports?” drill. We will see how well on-line check in works (NW uses KLM, they wanted all sorts of information).
0600 in the morning is going to come awfully early I think.
There are some books which just might be more fun heard than read. Billibub Baddings and the Case of the Singing Sword by Tee Morris is a case in point. Noir, circa 1929 and really pretty funny. Not for some who get easily offended by tacky language.
Taking the small roads home from RAF Croughten, we drove along the A321 through this lovely little town on the Thames ( Being the left-sided driver on the British side of the road – I turned the camera over to my son when we found a stopping point ).
I think it must have been Henley-on-Thames.
In any case, there was this lovely house, just facing the river …..
with its combination of field stone (ever gone rock picking? seems like fields always have stones and haven’t yet seen a mechanical method that really does a good job of getting rid of all those rotter chewing rocks).
Couple of wonderful verses to add to the Charge of the Sock Brigade. I’m going to give it a couple of days – then see how many gifts of sock yarn I can make. It is not like my house has a lack of yarn…..
Meanwhile – all but the final cm on that second sock toe!
The dragonboats head is taking shape
Those skull armlettes for one of my daughters? The ones that have been languishing in the basket? Since I haven’t printed out the bead pattern and needed a take-a-long project, I started the second one. Not really great progress, but I think this puts them back in the WIP category.
Of course, this may turn out to be the all time dumb idea. As I sit here thinking, it occurs to me that
1) the stripes will be reversed.
2) what happens when I get to the beaded portion? If I cut the yarn and restart from the same end as the first, then the stripes won’t even match on the same arm.
3) If I don’t do that – then I have to pull beads for meters and meters and meters of yarn…..
Glad I didn’t get any farther on these!
The three seasons again today. We had crisp and cold, we had snow and sleet which morphed into rain. Sun managed to break through only a couple of times. The DS came in by train. He negotiated the train station crossing in Paris with little difficulty. Some how, I don’t think any of us really thought about it. Taking the Chunnel is like taking a plane. Security, immigration added to the hassles of Paris.
At those times when you live by yourself, taking photos of a sweater on gets to be a challenge. Seems like you are limited to you, your camera and a mirror. Or you, your camera and a tripod if you have a lot of time.
In the first case, you need a sunny day. May I remind you that I am in the UK where sun seems to be at a premium right about now? In the second, a lot of time and patience to get the proper angle.
I finished up the vest except for the button loops. I am not doing them until I find the right buttons. And frankly, it may be finding a Fimo/Sculpy addict to make me the right buttons.
While I was at it, I took pictures of the Red Kimono Vest from Rowan.
This is my last pair for the 52-Pair Plunge. Translates to– I have knit half a sock short of 52 pairs of socks since 1 April of last year. I have been good this year about not leaving socks on needles, nor do I have any orphan socks.
and on to the second sock to the heel flap.
BTW – Cold weather seems to be plentiful. I really like Ms Grayjeans, it spent the rest of the day on me. As it turns out, the fabric is a bit lighter than I would have thought. It certainly was comfortable underneath a blazer and my arms stayed warm!
Driving across the fields of Flanders, several songs stuck in my mind.
The first is know as No Man’s Land in English by Eric Bogle, the original author. I only know it as Es ist an der Zeit in German, sung by Hannes Wader. This makes sense. These fields saw so many deaths in the Great War.
Neither version is particularly a happy song, but then why would you expect them to be? War may be glorious to leaders and politicians, but to the 19 year-olds who lay down their lives – it can only be loss, and sadness for those left behind. Both versions capture this quite well.
But in my head was also The Low Lands Low? (versions of it here and here). Perhaps it was a scrambling in my head of Dunmore and Dunkirk. Sesame Street Letter D problems? Obviously different time frames and most certainly different wars, and the songs refer to different countries. I suppose it there is an Irish connection as now that I know about it. Any way – Clam Chowder does a lovely version, unfortunately I don’t see it on any of their re-issues.
Why am I at Dunkirk? Turns out it is closer and cheaper than taking the ferry from Calais. True it takes a few minutes longer, but I have knitting.
Arriving a few minutes early, I put my car in the line-up
and headed inside the lounge
Hanging out and knitting (gee, theme here you think?), the announcement for the ferry caught me unexpectedly but my French is not all forgotten.
In any case, the green light was kind of a give away.
Being one of the first on, I found a comfortable place in the lounge. Enjoying the curves, angles and reflections – I worked on Ms Greyjean’s sleeves.
Decent weather this time, I have no clue as to who Clipper is – about the only ship we passed in mid channel.
I pulled into Sanhurst right about sunset. glad to be off the road (driving on the British side is challenging the first day after being on the Continent.)
Ms Grayjeans has progressed with only the front and neck ribbing to be knit. I won’t be the first finished in our March Sweater Madness Group, but not the last either.
Last weekend the DH and I talked about my plan to drive back to Heidelberg today.
He convinced me that it would be much easier to take the plane. Why did I not really think this thru before signing up for another British Airways flight?
The excuse today was “storms in Europe.” Ok, I can live with that.
I was already a bit ahead of schedule since the nice man at the Camberley train station gave me a route to Heathrow that cost 6,40L rather than 14L. That is a good thing – 0718 to Ascot. Wait 10 minutes and change toward Waterloo, exiting at Feltham (about 20 minutes or so). Stand in the freezing cold for 15 minutes to catch the 285 to Heathrow Central Bus Station getting me there well before 0900.
Of course, Heathrow is the airport where they don’t put up your gate till 45 minutes prior to the flight. Juggling coffee, juice and a muffin, I finally found a small table along a bench in one of the central areas. For the next couple of hours I worked on a sock (more about that later) while chatting with a college student from Missouri. She is on break from Boston College, headed to Milan for a week to visit her brother on his year abroad.
We did a cattle car load onto the plane. And then we missed our slot because the luggage wasn’t all loaded. Seemed like BA had not counted on the 36 young airmen headed to Germany complete with two large and heavy duffel bags each.
The plan of course was packed, and more carry-on that there were people. This was my view for a long, long boring time.
Almost three hours later we took off. According to the DH, the flight was still on the Frankfurt board as arriving, when it hadn’t even taken off.
Hint – don’t take the bus from Terminal 2 @ Frankfurt over to the train station – walk up stairs and take the shuttle. It is much faster and you won’t miss your train. Natch – the next train was 15 minutes late before taking over an hour to get to Mannheim (35 minute journey).
It was 1830 before I made Heidelberg, by far too late to make the 1600 Strick-Treff at Cafe Maximos with the rest of the Heidelberg Knitters.
Did I mention that we had dinner scheduled at 1930 with friends?
Long day. And it never takes me 12 hours to drive between, even counting the Ferry.
March first started the Sock Knitting Pentathlon. A totally crazy group from at least 30 countries that is committed to knitting five pairs of socks – one pair every two months and speed counts.
The first pattern was posted at 0000 EST (GM+5) so I downloaded it around 0600 this morning and packed my yarn and needles. I attempted to do the toe up cast on while waiting for the train and on the train. Forget that – and switched over to top down.
I had this lovely skein of burgundy Fleece Artist that is wool, silk and kid merino.
Making good progress I had lots of time to knit on the plane.
And was to here before heading out to dinner –
The nice thing about top down, is that I was able to integrate the toe decreases with the final diamond of the pattern.
If I can, I will start the second sock tonight and finish it to post in the morning.
If there is something you really don’t want to do – never give your partner free reign in picking activities. It is not just that I don’t really care for modern art, it is rather that I detest most of which passes for art in several of the schools of painting. It is not art to me, it is ugly and needs explanation.
‘Fraid I have always been of the opinion that if a painted work, or a sculpture needs a long, written explanation of what it is; of what the artist intended, then it isn’t art. Art should be able to stand on its own, to convey a message with in the medium that is being used. Each of us is free to add our own experiences to the interpretation.
And then there is the Tate Modern. Expensive exhibits of “art” that I wish I had not seen.
Now, I liked the setting
and all of the bridges and signs
and there was one interesting hanging in the free section (as well as a modern film clip with Ants moving Confetti)
But for the rest of it
we had a nice lunch, an interesting walk and a comfortable train ride back to Camberley chatting with a couple from Reading who had made a day of it in London complete with their 14 year-old daughter and her 3 best friends. Brave, that.