In the midst of all of my other unfinished projects, I stopped last week to make this tote bag. It was inspired by the Trio knit tote bag, a free pattern from Crystal Palace Yarns, but I added my own touches. Instead of an I-cord trim around the top, I added trim with a picot edge. Instead of I-cord handles, I used a monks’ cord drawstring.

The tote is knit in seed stitch using one strand of Tahki Yarns Chat Print in color 023, and one strand of GGH Capri in color 03. Chat Print is a cotton tape, and Capri is a chained cotton/modal yarn with a nylon wrap. The trim is a double strand of the Capri.

This is the second trim I tried. The first one, a simple stockinette stitch tube, was on the bag when it made its public debut at work and at Thursday Tangle knitting night. I wasn’t very happy with the way that one came out, so I frogged it out and started over with the hemmed, picot-edged trim.

After an unfortunate encounter in an elevator, I realized that in order to be most useful the tote needed to be lined to keep knitting needles and other sharp objects from poking through the bag and into other things. But the great thing about having a knit tote is how stretchy it is. You can over-pack it a lot, because it stretches to hold whatever you’re filling it up with.

In order to preserve its stretchy goodness, I lined it with Lycra in a sparkly midnight purple. (Note: No swimming suits were harmed in the production of this tote. The local fabric store was having a sale.) In the second picture, the bag is open to show the lining. You can also see the monks’ cord, made from the Chat Print, better than in the first pic. (click the pics for the bigger version)

And what’s that we see peaking out of the innards of the tote bag?

Why, it’s Clapotis! My Clapotis project moved out of one of Tangles cool brown paper bags and into the tote last week. I’ve dropped four stitches on the Clapotis, and I’m just about ready to drop the fifth. If I’d stop wandering off on other projects and focus on this one, I might actually be able to completed it!

Clapotis is knit from Blue Heron Yarns Rayon/Metallic yarn in the aptly named “Parrot” colorway. The close-up pic shows the colors better. I love this yarn. The drape of the fabric is wonderful and this is going to be very nice to wear. But it’s not inexpensive. I’m not likely to knit with it very often.

In all seriousness, I’m hoping to complete Clapotis this week and get back to E’s socks. Except that… well…

I was over at Woodland Woolworks yesterday, and I found South West Trading Company Phoenix, a soy-silk ribbon, in Harvest Green and Napa Valley; and Brown Sheep Company Cotton Fleece in Dusty Sage. I think that these two yarns will make an awesome tote bag. I’m going to make the pattern for this one up as I go along. As with socks, it makes more sense to me to start at the bottom and work my way up rather than the other way around. There’s also a twisted I-cord trim I saw on a pair of socks that I’d like to try on this tote, and I want to do an I-cord drawstring rather than monks’ cord.

If anyone knows how to do I-cord really fast, I’m all ears!

Monks’ cord… It’s funny, but I learned how to twist rope on an OMSI Family Archeology Weekend thingy out in the John Day Fossil Beds that #1 Son and I enrolled in about 8 years ago. It was a fun weekend, and I’d recommend it to any family if OMSI is still doing it. Along with digging for fossils on a field trip to the Fossil, Oregon High School fossil beds, chipping out arrow heads, polishing thunder eggs, hiking and being eaten alive by lots of large, hungry, 6-legged critters, we learned how to twist rope out of dry grass. #1 Son and I made bracelets from our rope and wore them for the rest of that vacation.

Who knew that skill would come in so handy, or that I would remember how to do it? It was certainly amusing for the cats, as I stretched ribbon yarn across the kitchen in order to twist it into monks’ cord. Moo Cow wanted to help, but I discouraged it.

I have to admit that, since that long-ago weekend, I have never made another arrowhead.

I love the little brown paper bags that Alice and Zen at Tangle pack one’s purchases in. In fact, I have a couple of unfinished socks and an equally unfinished Clapotis living in them.

I thought it might be nice to have another tote to carry projects in, and I found a cute knitted tote pattern. Sharp-eyed readers might have noticed a new item in my to-do list.

Yep. I’m knitting a tote.

Maybe it’s the heat, or something, but I just can’t settle down and finish a project. Yeah… it’s the heat.

When I rolled my Noro Kochoran into center-pull balls, I started a new ball whenever I ran into a knot. So imagine my surprise last night as I knit along on my sweater and suddenly found a loose end in one of the balls.

Then I noticed that there was a matching end trailing out from my knitting tote. And both the tote end and the sweater end were… wet?

Then I saw a little furry white and brown tabby face peering out from under my chair.

Moo Cow, you see, has a string fetish. She will go to great lengths to gobble up any string left around the house. My “free kitten” has already cost me $500 in emergency vet bills after she snacked on the drawstring to #1 Son’s PJs. Since we don’t want a repeat performance, we are very careful about anything long and thin that’s not meant to be eaten. Presents in my house have no ribbons. Hoodies with drawstrings are hung up in a closed closet. Ditto my yarn stash. My UFOs are up high on a bookshelf where Moo can’t get and are in tote bags.

When knitting socks I’ve kept the yarn next to me in my chair. Moo hasn’t shown much interest in my sock knitting, even when she’s jumped up on my lap to demand hugs when I was in mid-knit. I was lulled into a false sense of safety. She was just biding her time…

Sweaters are bigger than socks, and my sweater project is in a bigger tote that doesn’t fit well next to me on the chair. Last night I had the tote resting down on the floor. And apparently the yarn was just slack enough for Moo to hook it from under the chair. I’ll keep an eye on her for a few days to make sure she’s OK, but from the length of the remaining yarn ends it appears she didn’t do more than slice through the strand. Now I’ll need to try new arrangements to keep my yarn safe. Once she finds some string, Moo is as single minded as a bloodhound on a fresh scent. And since she knows with all certainty that the entire world is present only to do her bidding, keeping what she wants away from her can be a challenge.

Today at lunch I ran over to Button Emporium and found some great buttons for my sweater. I’ll try to get some pics up this weekend, if I have time amidst the graduation madness.

While I was in the neighborhood I stopped in at Knit Purl and augmented my stash of Blue Moon soft rock. I’ve got this sock idea rattling around in my brain…

#1 Son and I go to Las Vegas for Christmas. I know that seems weird to some people. Las Vegas isn’t really the most “Christmassy” place on earth. But it’s become something of a tradition with us to get out of town during the holiday madness, and so we travel. To Vegas. Each year I make our reservation in a different hotel. This year it was The Aladdin. And each year we go on some sort of tour. This year it was to be a ghost town and gold mine. But, to begin at the beginning:

Part One: The Airport

#1 Son and I travel light and never check bags, so I usually check in and print our boarding passes over the ‘net the night before. That way we can go directly to our gate without any stops along the way. I printed #1 Son’s pass, but there was some glitch (or so I thought) that prevented me from printing mine. I kept getting a message that said: Print it at the airport.

We usually park in the economy lot and take the shuttle in. But, after dropping the fur kids off at the Cat B & B, we arrived at the airport to find the economy lot full — so full that barriers were up preventing us from even entering. Signs suggested parking in long term. But long term was full. Signs on the long term lot suggested parking in the garage. At $18/day. So far we’re doing great. NOT

Inside the airport I stopped to print my boarding pass, and then we headed for security. Since the Great Bullet Belt Debacle I was a little more cognizant of what items we were attempting to carry on board a plane. The bullet belt was left at home, as were all scissors. I had checked to make sure that knitting needles were allowed before I brought my half-made socks along. (One is now completed and the other 1/2 finished — pics when done.) What I hadn’t counted on was being singled out myself for a little extra attention.

In the security line, #1 Son was sent down the normal path, but I was shuffled off to the side, where the “special” people get to go. There my purse, bag, shoes and sweater were thoroughly examined, searched and otherwise pawed through. And a fairly rude woman patted me down, front and back, and used a metal-detector wand. I was required to unbuckle my belt, and since the pant I was wearing are rather loose, this had the unfortunate result of revealing my lovely undies to everyone in the terminal. You’re losing your pants. The TSA woman said helpfully, while the TSA man chuckled appreciatively and continued pawing through the undies in my bag.

When I was finally deemed harmless and allowed to depart the security area, I found #1 Son just putting his shoes back on. He had also been subjected to wanding because he’d forgotten to bring the key to the lock that fastens the chain around his neck, and so set off the metal detector. He had not only been wanded, but also patted down. I was neither notified nor asked permission. He wasn’t even asked if he was a minor.

Yes, I’ve complained to TSA, although I waited until I got home.

At the gate, #1 Son pointed out helpfully to me that since he had a bic lighter and a can of hairspray, he possessed what amounted to a flame thrower. I suggested that we not discuss that with any airline or TSA people.

On boarding the plane, when I presented my boarding pass the airlines employee said, Here’s the red boarding pass. You must be the dangerous woman on this flight. I made some noncommittal sound, and he replied by reading my name slowly and loudly enough for everyone at the gate to hear, thus subjecting me to further humiliation. #1 Son’s flame thrower became tempting…

Yes, I’ve complained to the airline, although I waited until I got home. (No sense in jinxing the return trip.)

Part 2: The Aladdin

So this particular vacation got off to a great start. But the flight down to Vegas was at least uneventful, and I finished the first sock while in the air. At The Aladdin, the check-in line was short. Our room was on the 17th floor near the elevators, and if we squeezed behind our table and craned our necks a little we had a reasonably good view of the Bellagio fountains. The bathroom featured a tiled shower with a glass door and a large soaking tub, but only one sink.

Every room in The Aladdin is equipped with a monitor, keyboard and mouse and has internet access via the hotel’s network for $9.95/24 hours. Yes, it’s more than most dial-up providers charge per month, but at least the access is available and “day” really is defined as 24 hours so there’s no extra charge for partial days. Our mouse didn’t work so I made sure that everything was plugged in correctly and rebooted the in-room part of the system. When that turned out to be ineffectual, I called the number provided (it turns out that the provider is Sprint). Since it was Sunday, no technicians were available but I was told that a “trouble ticket” would be issued and someone should be by in the morning.

The Aladdin has thoughtfully provided a PF Chang’s on the casino level. Since that happens to be one of my favorite restaurants, and one where vegetarian dishes are no problem, our dinner plans were easy to make. Although we had to wait for quite awhile to be seated, PF Chang’s was well worth the wait. I’m addicted to the lettuce wraps. Mom’s take on PF Chang’s:

For entertainment Sunday night, we looked no further than The Aladdin itself. Steve Wyrick is the featured act at the hotel. Billed as “Vegas’ Magician Of The Year,” Wyrick’s show promises bad motorcycles, hot girls, killer music and mind-blowing, bigger-than-life illusions. Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite deliver. The motorcyle (1) is there, and the girls, but the music is hardly “killer.” The illusions may be big, but they aren’t particularly mind-blowing. (Raise up curtain, roll airplane on stage. Yawn.) The smaller illusions are better. But his patter is annoying at best and his “teasing” of a woman who spoke absolutely no English and so didn’t understand the joke fell completely flat. Wyrick just doesn’t have the panache to pull off illusions of the size his act contains. After the show, the theater exit leads through the magic shop, where one is encouraged to buy everything in sight. VIP ticket holders can have their free magic books autographed by Wyrick. Non-VIP-ticket holders can get an autograph, but they have to pay for the book. We passed, and left wondering who votes for “Magician Of The Year.” If you’re in Vegas and want to see a magician, take in David Copperfield at the MGM Grand, or head over to Monte Carlo for Lance Burton. Mom’s take on Steve Wyrick:

More tomorrow, including Chucky meets Fargo at The Flamingo and the hazards of sudden downpours in the desert.

I refuse to start Christmas until the day after Thanksgiving, regardless of how many decorations merchants put up or how early they start piping in Christmas music. But now it’s time. So below is my eggnog recipe, plus my recipe for post-Thanksgiving leftovers shepherd’s pie, a tradition at my house. And, why not, I’ll throw in my family’s traditional recipe for Tom & Jerry batter.

Over the river and up the freeway, #1 Son and I traveled to B’s & K’s house. Thanksgiving was great fun. B & K put together an awesome evening. It was a smallish, rather quiet group this year. But the company was pleasant, as always, and the food was yummy, as always. K was very brave this year and used paper plates and plastic ware. You GO K! I think that was one of the best ideas I’ve seen for a long time. Who wants to hand-wash all that china and stuff, not to mention ironing all the linen?

Well… OK, some people do. I like to drag my “good” stuff out every now and then, because I don’t get to very often any more. All the same, I thought there was nothing wrong with paper plates. They had turkeys on them, fergodsake, so they were very seasonal. 😆

#1 Son always feels as though it’s not a successful large gathering unless there is at least one crisis. Last year the boyfriend of the younger B & K daughter was supposed to bring the rolls. He found them in the trunk of his car after the meal was over. But we all gave him credit for trying.

This year the rolls were in attendence, but needed warming. So B placed them in a paper bag and popped them in the oven — the time-tested, traditional method of warming rolls.

But the bag accidentally touched the burner and caught fire.

So there was a bit of excitement for a few minutes while B threw the bags in the sink and eldest B & K daughter attempted to douse the still-burning bag, part of it in the sink and part fallen to the floor. For some reason she grabbed salt instead of soda to smother the fire. Salt doesn’t really work the same way… But eventually the fire was extinguised. Most of the rolls made it through the ordeal unscathed (and unheated).

#1 Son missed the whole thing. “There hasn’t been a crisis,” he said, disappointed, during dinner. He was even more disappointed when we told him about The Incident Of The Burning Bag. But he agreed that the evening was, therefore, a rousing success.

But when the evening was complete and left-overs were being divvied up, a new small crisis presented itself. “Where’s the paper bag I brought the sweet potato casserole dish in?” I asked B, while searching vainly through the kitchen. “I want to pack my loot in it.”

His reply: “It’s the one that burned.”

Oh. Oops! But another bag was found, and, loot in hand, #1 Son and I traveled back down the freeway and across the river and home. This year I will be the only one indulging in post-Thanksgiving shepherd’s pie, being the only two-legged household carnivore (the cats do not get my turkey!). So it will be a small batch, but one greatly enjoyed!

Click the link below for the recipes.

I love vacations. I love to travel. The only thing I really hate about travelling is airport security. I wouldn’t mind if they were reasonable. But they so seldom are.

#1 Son likes to travel, too. And going through airport security with a kid who looks like a punk is always an interesting journey. I still remember that first trip to Vegas, when #1 Son had his flaming red ‘hawk and yards of chains and leather. PDX security kept me busy by searching my carry-on. The were actually starting to strip search #1 Son — I heard the guard say, “OK, take off your pants,” — when I left the search line, ran over to where #1 Son was and said what the hell are you doing with my kid? (I still don’t think that strip-searching a minor without parental permission is legal.) At which point they backed down and let both of us go. On that trip we left Vegas early in the morning and the security guy was almost asleep, so getting back was no sweat.

Last Christmas on the annual trip to Vegas airport security was OK both directions. Despite the fact that Vegas was under a “hightened terrorist level” watch. #1 Son dumped his chains, bullet belt, etc., into one of the bins, security glanced at it, and we were on our way. We had no problems either coming or going. I think it lulled me into a false sense of normalacy. But I digress…

Summer vacation. Disneyland! I figure it’s my last chance to go until I have grandkids to take. Disney Travel has a “buy three nights get one free” deal at the Grand Californian, a hotel I’ve been dying to stay at. So I plan a little holiday with a bus tour of LA one day in the middle. On Sunday, #1 Son and I dropped the fur-kids off at the Cat B&B and headed for the airport. And thus began the saga of Airport Security — an E-ticket ride if I’ve every had one.

And, just for the record, #1 Son and I were 100% cooperative at all times, never raised our voices, never argued, and were always polite.

The portents at the start of our venture were good. The kids got their own room at the Cat B&B and the staff promised to tempt Kidd with baby food Turkey if he did his usual whack-job number and refused to eat. In airport economy parking, we found a place right next to the first shuttle kiosk. I already had our boarding passes (on-line check in), and we had plenty of time to catch the flight. It was a good thing… we needed it.