My Life in Yarn

I'm back.  Rather than blog about Rhinebeck and show the pictures everyone else will show, let me catch you up on my life by showing you the yarn I bought at the festival.  (For those who are non-yarny out there, Rhinebeck is the city where the New York Sheep and Wool Festival is held yearly - it's the biggest festival of its kind in the country.  Every year, knitters, bloggers, vendors, sheep sellers, and quasi-knitting celebrities head there...)

Yarn details: darker brown skeins Shetland Silk Tweed "Dana" 2-ply laceweight from Swift River Farm, 95% organic Shetland wool, 5% bombyx silk; 

lighter brown skein Shetland Supreme 2-ply lace from Jamieson & Smith, 100% undyed Shetland wool, colorway "Moorit."

 
First up: this is tweedy looking wool, eh?  You know what's tweedy?  University professors are generally tweedy.  At least in New England.  I am happy to announce that I have finally achieved the status of All But Dissertation.  This means I have jumped through all the hoops they've set out for me - courses, exams, and a defense of my dissertation project - and all I've got left is the dissertation.  Like my fellow PhD program friend says, the "new car smell" lasts only for a little bit, and then you're stuck with the enormous burden of having to churn out a couple hundred pages of what you hope will be brilliant stuff.  But onwards and upwards!

Yarn details: "Nona" 2-ply laceweight from Spirit Trail Fiberworks, 50% merino, 25% cashmere, 25% bombyx silk, colowary "Adirondack."

 
I bought this silky skein thinking of the ocean.  I had just crossed the Atlantic twice, once on my way to and from England to see J, who's just started his lectureship.  His apartment is right on the English Channel, and we can see the moody waves from his windows!  They are just "sea peeps," as the realtor had described them, but they are peeps of the sea nonetheless!  It was a lovely week of knitting and . . .

Yarn details: "Atropos" 2-ply laceweight from Spirit Trail Fiberworks, 100% bombyx silk, colorway "Scarlett."

 
. . . love!  This silk yarn is a blood-red color, and its twisted skein reminds me of the human heart.  J and I got engaged this last week in England.  It's all a bit crazy and yet very matter-of-fact at the same time.  I knew this was coming, I had thought about it and felt good about it.  But our story is a bit crazier than usual.  

Indulge me in a bit of George Eliot.  When I think of my life in the last five years, I think of this quote from the end of Middlemarch (you have been warned: if you do not want to know the ending, stop reading here).  I am not a noble Dorothea, nor is D (or Molt, as he was fondly called in this blog many moons ago) Casaubon - no! not at all.  J, however, is actually a bit like young Will Ladislaw.  So I think of this quote:

"Sir James never ceased to regard Dorothea's second marriage as a mistake; and indeed this remained the tradition concerning it in Middlemarch, where she was spoken of to a younger generation as a fine girl who married a sickly clergyman, old enough to be her father, and in little more than a year after his death gave up her estate to marry his cousin - young enough to have been his son, with no property, and not well-born.  Those who had not seen anything of Dorothea usually observed that she could not have been 'a nice woman', else she would not have married either the one or the other.

Certainly those determining acts of her life were not ideally beautiful.  They were the mixed result of a young and noble impulse struggling amidst the conditions of an imperfect social state, in which great feelings will often take the aspect of error, and great faith the aspect of illusion.  For there is no creature whose inward being is so strong that it is not greatly determined by what lies outside of it.  A new Theresa will hardly have the opportunity of reforming a conventual life, any more than a new Antigone will spend her heroic piety in daring all for the sake of a brother's burial: the medium in which their ardent deeds took shape is for ever gone.  But we insignificant people with our daily words and acts are preparing the lives of many Dorotheas, some of which may present a far sadder sacrifice than that of the Dorothea whose story we know."

Yarn details: oatmeal colored ball is worsted baby alpaca/silk 70/30 from Times Remembered, colorway "Suede"; 

blue skein is "Rio" fingering from Times Remembered, 100% prime alpaca, colorway "Wedgewood."

 
Finally, and, yes, this one's a bit of a stretch in terms of yarn metaphors, but there are some fuzzy details and cloudy skies right now.  D and I are trying to sell our house.  We are almost there...but it has been a very trying process.  Difficult buyers and a prolonged negotiation process has really sapped the spirit out of me sometimes.  But hopefully this will all be over soon.

So!  That is why I have been silent for so long.  In the weeks from Oct. 1 until now I have 1) had my birthday, 2) defended my dissertation project and become ABD, 3) flown to England, 4) gotten engaged, 5) gone to Rhinebeck, and 6) advanced toward closing on the house.  Fingers crossed on that last item!

Now for more knitting, reading, writing, planning, and hoping.

Wandering: An Unharried Day in Istanbul

Start by sipping Turkish coffee in the Arasta Bazaar - behind the Blue Mosque.  This picture is inspiring me to get the percolator going right now.  Ahhhh.  Coffeeeeeee.  Arasta, though still a tourist trap (but who are we kidding? we're tourists!), is much quieter, smaller, and less frenzied than the Grand Bazaar, especially off season.

Wander around the smaller streets by the bazaar and you'll happen upon some bizarre display like this at Cocoon.  What in the...?  These are felted hats!  In fact, the store is full of felted lovelies, along with some beautiful textiles and handcrafts.

The Istanbul Handicrafts Market (Kabasakal Caddesi 23) showcases their artists' work in glass, pottery, silk painting, and weaving.  The different crafts are housed in small studios/shops surrounding a sunny, central courtyard.  Artists sometimes are at work in their studios.

If you're feeling peckish, try Çiğdem Pastanesi at Divan Yolu Caddesi 62A.  It serves delectable baklava, pastries, and cappuccinos worthy of Rome.

Or, if you're hungry enough for lunch, go to the Sultanahmet Fish House for super-fresh fish at very, very reasonable prices.  Their three course meals are fantastic.  Sit at a window and watch people and cats go by.

Here's Sappho: she's expecting your visit at the Istanbul Archaeology Museum - and behind her is the discus thrower, on loan from the British Museum (not sure how long that will last).  The museum really does have an impressive collection of ancient Near Eastern, Greek, and Roman art and artifacts, along with Ottoman tiles and art.  Beware, however: the museum guards will kick you out at 4PM!  So make sure you arrive with plenty of time.  Closed Mondays.

Walk across the Galata Bridge at sunset, then make your way to drinks and dinner on the modern strip of shops and restaurants on Istiklal Caddesi in Beyoğlu. Rest your feet and relax!

Whimsical felted rabbits, with each their own felt tote bag, at Cocoon.

Wandering: Taiwan, Jade and Flower Markets

"Ping Pong" flowers at the flower market.

We spent one Saturday morning in Taipei at the Jade and Flower Markets, located on Jianguo South Road.  I was in heaven: the flower market offered the fragrant, the unusual, the edible, and the beautiful.  If only I lived near a market like this!  In a metropolitan Taipei, residents create virtual jungles and gardens on their high-rise balconies.  And with this market, any garden is possible.

Grow your own pine bonsai.

Enormous dahlias, miniature lemon (?) trees.

Ceramic flower frogs and bowls for flower arranging.

Potted bushes and artful trees - some of them enormous!

The jade market adjoins the flower market so that you can walk from a lush garden into a tinkling cave of gems and crystals.  Not only can you buy jade at the market, but also jewels and pearls, strings of beads and antique carvings.  It is a fabulous place.

Carved pendants, bowls, even whole tea sets of jade
- hey, I spot jade mooncakes on the plate by the teapot on the tray!

A beautiful and delicate antique jade bowl.

Crystals pendants and bobbles.

Turquoise bracelets and beads, polished to a high shine.

A curious antique jade carving.

Wandering: Taiwan, Tea at Maokong

 

 It was on a rainy day this January that my sister and I wandered about in Maokong, a small town in the mountains south of Taipei.  Tea is grown on the slopes and, during the spring and summer, tea houses open up their balconies for visitors to gather and talk, sipping fragrant tea for long, long hours in the afternoon.

 Tea plants in the drizzle.  The tea variety here is probably Gaoshan Cha, 

"High Mountain Tea," a type of Taiwanese oolong that is grown at high elevation.

Tea leaves drying under the eaves of a shop.

Tea pots are at the ready on the terrace of a tea house, overlooking the valley.

I did mention it was January, right?  We were the only people at Maokong, looking to sit out and drink tea.  It was cold!  This is my sister, trying to keep her fingers and face warm with her tea cup.  The sieve-tray is used to catch all the hot water that is first poured over and into the tea pot to clean it.  Hot water is also  discarded into the tray from the first brewing of the tea, which is considered inferior and "dirty" compared to the second brewing, which is drunk.

Kettles all in a row.

Next time in Taiwan, if it's less chilly, I'll be sure to make another trip.  For those thinking of visiting (and you should!), the gondola is shut down at the moment, but bus 15 from the Taipei Zoo is quite direct (take the MRT to the Taipei Zoo station).

Byzantium I Come Not From

No, I am quite happy to visit the magical place for only a short while - too long there and the whole fantastical world might lose its luster, or disappear like a mirage.




And here is Ray Bradbury's evocative poem, which has both magic and the sweet smells of home:

Byzantium, I come not from,
But from another time and place
Whose race was simple, tried and true;

As boy
I dropped me forth in Illinois.
A name with neither love nor grace
Was Waukegan, there I came from
And not, good friends, Byzantium.

And yet in looking back I see
From topmost part of farthest tree
A land as bright, beloved and blue
As any Yeats found to be true.

So we grew up with mythic dead
To spoon upon midwestern bread
And spread old gods' bright marmalade
To slake in peanut-butter shade,
Pretending there beneath our sky
That it was Aphrodite's thigh...
While by the porch-rail calm and bold
His words pure wisdom, stare pure gold
My grandfather, a myth indeed,
Did all of Plato supersede
While Grandmama in rockingchair
Sewed up the raveled sleeve of care
Crocheted cool snowflakes rare and bright
To winter us on summer night.
And uncles, gathered with their smokes
Emitted wisdoms masked as jokes,
And aunts as wise as Delphic maids
Dispensed prophetic lemonades
To boys knelt there as acolytes
To Grecian porch on summer nights;
Then went to bed, there to repent
The evils of the innocent;
The gnat-sins sizzling in their ears
Said, through the nights and through the years
Not Illinois nor Waukegan
But blither sky and blither sun.

Though mediocre all our Fates
And Mayor not as bright as Yeats
Yet still we knew ourselves. The sum?
Byzantium.
Byzantium.

To A Beautiful New Year

I'm back! It's been quite a month and a half - 5 flights, 3 continents, 2 exams, and lots and lots of beautiful things. Here's a little peek for now.

Sun Moon Lake, in central Taiwan. A serene place.

Zen tableaux at the Lalu, our hotel at the lake.

Eating My Way through Paris: Macarons part 1

Since relocating to Heidelberg, Germany, I've been astounded by how easy it is to get to other European locales. Last weekend we headed to Paris - only 3 1/2 hours by train! As my mom said, "That's like driving to Tahoe!" (from the SF Bay Area, that is). One of my main incentives for going to Paris was sampling all the macarons I've been obsessing about for the last year or so. It seems that this meringue sandwich cookie has taken the foodie-world by storm. So here goes for our Paris macaron taste-off:

This is the display in the Lenôtre, in Bastille, 11th arrondissement.
We stopped there our first morning, for our first macaron tasting.

These were light and satisfyingly crunchy-chewy, with lovely fillings.

I was impressed by the chocolate ganache filling - very rich. The others we tried were pistachio, frambois (raspberry), and caramel, with sea salt. I think my favorite was the caramel (it usually is!), but one complaint is that the sea salt hits you first when you bite into the macaron, and it's a bit strong. The burnt-sugar taste of caramel comes almost at the end, which is too long to wait, in my mind. All in all, though, a great sweet treat - light but very satisfying.

Eating My Way through Germany: You Don't Know What A Sweet Tooth Is Until You Come Here

The streets of Heidelberg's old city (Altstadt) are all cobblestone and pedestrians only (Fußgängerzone), full of little shops that are teeming with goodies.

That's the cathedral in the background, standing in the middle of a square that also has markets on weekends.

It's absolutely lovely. And, for part of the summer and the whole next academic year, I get to live in an apartment right at the heart of all this loveliness! It's one of those apartments with dormer windows and sloping ceilings, above restaurants and stores.

The problem will be keeping from eating at the luscious bakeries and chocolateries that line the blocks every day! In the space of 2 blocks I counted 1 bakery, 2 chocolateries, and 2 gummy bear stores. Stores that are devoted only to selling gummy bears! I'll let the pictures do the talking. All I'm saying is, you only have to walk 2 blocks to see everything I've posted below. You might need to get a glass of milk to cut the sweetness.

In the window of our favorite bakery. Those cube things are called
Pflasterstein, meaning "cobblestone." They're filled with cake and marzipan.
Those globes in dark and white chocolate - scroll down for further detail.
The first resolution I made upon seeing this is: I have to try
every one of these outrageous looking sweets.

Remember Augustus Gloop from the new "Charlies and the Chocolate Factory"?

I think the caricature of him as a German chocolate eating machine
is not too far from the truth...

Okay, this was photographed with a hand to give a sense of size. It is enormous.

It's filled with cake and cream and more chocolate. It's decadence, in ball form.

Eating My Way through Rome: Frascati

I should be grading compositions, but who wants to read woefully bad papers when blogging is an option?

I'd like to share a great night of fun and eating we had on our last night in Rome. Two friends, both Italians--and one a native Roman!--took us by car to Frascati, a town about 20km south-east of Rome. It, I've been told, is the site of Cicero's favorite villa. Ah, to have enough villas in order to have a favorite. We were joined by two other Italian friends and sat down to a joyful meal. (Strangely, the language we all spoke together was German, since that was the one most people felt more comfortable with, as opposed to Italian or English.)

It was a rustic little restaurant, with a family running the show.

We began with a serious platter of meat. Look at all that pork! It was beautiful.
Prosciutto, salami, various sausages, cooked pork, walnuts, hard pungent cheeses,
and buffalo mozzarella. I am drooling right now as I blog.

This was accompanied by a variety of olives, artichokes, grilled eggplant,
tomatoes, and peppers, all seasoned with delicious olive oil.

Then some hard cured meats.

Finally, sweet biscuits, called ciambelline with Roman wine. Ciambelline al vino romane.
You dip the hard biscuit in the wine, which is lovely and slightly sweet, and eat.

We had some fun with the Italians' demonstration for us of how to eat this.

It was a great night. Always let your Italian friends order for you in Italy.