Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Wash/Dish cloths


I've been in a dish/wash cloth mode since discovering a bunch of nice dish cloth cotton in my stash (plus buying more for $1 each at Michael's last trip to the US!) - made lots of neat round ones (oops, forgot the picture) - and wanted a change just in case other people got bored with them ... so remembered Mason-Dixon had one that was done in one piece, no sewing and not square, so copied it... made one as prescribed, but I like to use ALL the yarn and so I wanted to be able to adjust as I went along ... so I rewrote the Mason-Dixon wash cloth so that it was backwards (and called it the Backwards Mason Dixon washcloth) and it turned out nicely ... have done two now, one with YO and the other with Kfb increases. I think I like the YO better - lacier and will dry more easily.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Knitting was even affected by the violence - I found I could not pick up the needles. It is only just now that I'm able to knit again.

Lots of projects done before all that violence, however. And now for some reason I'm in a dishcloth mode and dug out all the dishcloth cotton yarn in my HUGE stash and have been working away at them. Found a lovely pattern for a circular one that I have been making lots of - can get two out of one ball of the yarn. Sent a bunch back to the US for Mom to put up for auction at the family reunion and I guess they brought $5 each, which is pretty good since they cost me about 50 cents to make, assuming two from each ball and I bought the balls for a buck each.

And have done a couple test knit shawls - prayer shawls- which I will send to Anne. One is in bright orange! And edged with brown and black because I ran out of orange (and there are three shades of orange too, actually). Doesn't look bad. Anne says they get a lot of people from different cultures that really like the bright colors. The second one in the same pattern is in cream, fuzzy, an old Super Yarn Mart yarn.

And found some really nice cotton here - a chenille type one that I'm making a neck warmer out of for Mandy, and some regular type thread that I'm not sure what I'll do with yet - originally thought string bag, now thinking more garment ....

And to add to all the turmoil, our company moved to the headquarters of the bank. Much stricter, emphasis is strictly looks, not function, for everything on our floor (i.e. a 'pantry' with refrigerator, microwave, hot/cold water machine - but no sink or running water, CEO's office with no sound proofing, wasted space all over the place). The move took place on the weekend they shut the center of Bangkok down - well, it was supposed to anyway - but our computers and everything were at the old office and we came to work at the new office .... Fortunately, the LAN was in and we could access the server at the old office, so once people brought in their own laptops, we could actually put out our usual work. It was a couple weeks before the stuff could be brought from the other office, which was right next to where all the red shirts were camped out. (Can't express how distressing it was to go to work every day by a roundabout route because the red shirts had piled tires and sharpened bamboo sticks across major intersections - it was just like entering a war zone and so sad. At least the route to the new office didn't go anywhere near the center of town so I didn't have to see all the arson - in fact, still haven't seen it.)

Enough catching up for now. How many years before my next entry, eh?

Sad Bangkok

Bangkok is going through a most difficult period and though on the surface things have calmed down, an explosion yesterday is convincing evidence that under the surface, things are still very hot and people are still very angry.

I feel so sad that the disadvantaged people from the country side are being taken advantage of by the red shirt leaders (and their ultimate leader, Thaksin). They deserve better. They deserve to get in on the good life too - but the struggle isn't like their leaders are portraying it but they believe the people who put food in their stomachs and clothes on their backs - how could it be otherwise?

The violence in Bangkok in April and May was such a huge departure for protests. Watching the news became so stressful that I had to stop - yet was drawn to it because "i had to know" - the scenes of violence with tires being trucked to places and set on fire, with the black shirts shooting at the soldiers and the soldiers shooting back. With the random violence from the heavy weapons shooting at random targets ... And then when the army finally stood firm and would not allow the red shirts to get resupplied - they gave up for ths particular time - but not before giving the signal for the burning of Bangkok - which they had given ample notice of in their speeches but which no one believed would really happen. But it did. It was to the point where I had to take some classical music into the bedroom and listen to it in order to get to sleep. So sad for Thailand.

So many different factions, really. Red shirts, black shirts, army that is divided against itself, police that are more for the red shirts than the government - and it isn't ended. I ache for Thailand. And it all appears to have come out of the hubris of ONE man who will NOT leave off his quest for regaining power.

Enough. Please.

Catching up - yet again

A lot has happened since my last entry - the death of Mark being the shadow over everything. Much of what I feel is included in the blog "Remembering Mark Hall" but since every entry goes to those who are 'following', I kind of feel restrained in what I can write. So here I am more free?

I cry inside for Mark so often, so full of regret for missed opportunities to return the love he showed me - but I was so cold and so hard. Tears still come so often, even nearly two years after he died. And if it is this bad for me - imagine how hard it is for Mom and Dad. It is to the point where Dad doesn't feel happy to get back to his beloved house in the woods, and that is so sad. Though he was absent from our lives so much during the past 30 years, until he came home to live, this is different.

Mark - I miss you more than I ever thought I would and wish I had told you and showed you more often that I did love you.