It must be true confessions week. I've already confessed to my ineptitude with paperwork, and now I must admit that the DNA scarf, while coming out very nicely in general, has a distinct flaw. At the bottom, it sort of ... frills.

So I googled the scarf and looked at lots of people's pictures of theirs. I notice that most of them do not show the bottom edge. Here is one that does, and sure enough, it ... frills. http://jofrog16.motime.com/archive/2003-11

Natalie's does not. http://knitting.xaviermusketeer.com/.

I am obviously not going to frog it -- if nothing else, I have now started this scarf several times, and it has frilled every time. I had hoped it would settle down when it got longer, but it is now about halfway finished and still has that bit of a wave in it. It may be the nature of the beast. It may block to perfection. We shall see.

In order to distract myself from the distressing frilliness of DNA, I turned to politics and cognitive psychology. Here is an intriguing claim from ParaPundit (http://parapundit.com/ ):

"Brooks argues that humanities majors in college start to develop resentment toward majors in economics, accounting, engineering, and other "hard subject" majors. This resentment then causes the resenters to join a political party that is opposed to whatever these "hard subject" types favor. Perhaps resentment plays some role in this split. But a more likely explanation is that people who can apply mathematical techniques to what they learn process data about the world differently than those who are limited to verbal reasoning. Hence mathematically skilled people tend to come to conclusions that the verbally oriented people are not even going to understand, let alone agree with."

In fact, it is an intriguing set of claims. The one that first made me open my eyes a bit wider was that humanities majors resent "hard subject" majors. As I recall, the main thing about "hard subject" majors was that we didn't date them. It was widely believed at my alma mater that the entire student body of Revelle college didn't get a date for their whole four years, or eight, or whatever, while the philosophy majors had trouble making it to class in between liasons. Any resentment was going in the other direction. Perhaps things have changed.

The second is that humanities majors aren't skilled at math. Excuse me, but mathematics is one of the humanities. And many of the humanities use mathematical techniques to process data. I'm saying "many" because I don't know for sure about philosophy majors, but I think all the rest do, including music majors and the occasional lit major.

Then the one that really got me was that "those who are limited to verbal reasoning" can't follow the higher and more complex thought processes of the number crunchers. "Limited to verbal reasoning"? The implication here is that accountants are floating above the mere verbal reasoning that suffices for ordinary folk like Descartes, Shakespeare, and Swift, in an ethereal realm in which reasoning takes place in pure numbers.

This, to put the claim back into its original context, is why ParaPundit thinks they tend to be Republicans. I think the real reason that accountants and engineers are more likely to be Republicans than poets and librarians are, is that they make more money, so they benefit from Republican policies. This is not just nature's way of making up to them for their pitiful undergraduate social lives. It is because at some point they decided to go make a lot of money so they could come back and laugh in the faces of the starving artists and anthropologists.

But this could explain something that has mystified me. I have often wondered why seemingly intelligent Republicans are not bothered by their candidate's lack of intellectual prowess. It would be rude to ask them directly, so I don't, but I have speculated about it with others, and my favorite suggestion so far is that they think it is a ruse to deceive terrorists. The more likely, though less appealing, theory is that a guy who isn't very bright seems more honest and likeable --when he says things that are not true, they do not count as lies because it is just like when he said that he thought it was time for human beings to get out into the solar system -- just another endearing little verbal slip. 

Now ParaPundit offers us a better theory: as a Republican, Bush processes data differently from those of us who rely on verbal reasoning. No wonder we don't understand him!

We are having some paperwork troubles at our house. The truth is that we often have paperwork troubles. Whatever gene or enzyme gives skill at keeping track of papers, I missed out on it. So when an important paper is needed, it is invariably missing.

Important is the key word here. I can quickly lay my hands on the directions for using the coffeepot, but finding a tax paper or a birth certificate is another story. Why this should be I do not know. It is not as though I pull insurance papers out of their file to look through and reminisce. I do not use immunization records for papier mache. I just let the stupid things repose in their files until they are needed -- at which time they are nowhere to be found.

The news from San Fransisco is that shawls have been replaced by boleros and capelets. Shawls had just made their way onto our society pages, so we are obviously experiencing that style time lag between the west coast and the middle of the country. The shawl patterns knitters have strewn all over the web will no doubt soon be replaced by bolero patterns so we can all be up to date again.

On the other hand, here is the rest of the scoop from that article: "Fleming's voice and choice of arias so inspired two such fans... that they began spouting poetry to each other over dinner. Romana Bracco, with her husband, John Bracco, postponed their trip to Italy to stay for the gala." The choice of the word "spouting" may merely suggest a bit of scorn on the part of the writer. If we take it seriously, though, it is quite an image. Whales. Plumes of poetry filling the air. For such an occasion -- especially given that the opera itself was worth postponing a trip to Italy for -- a shawl would be far too quotidian. You'd just have to bring out the capelet, wouldn't you?

I was mostly quilting this weekend, rather than knitting, so I had the DVD on.

Another of the changes in my life in the fall is that Bible study starts up again. This means that I have to give up watching Sex and the City. A time conflict, as Cleverboots pointed out, rather than one of values.

It was Cleverboots who first told me about Sex and the City. The Empress and I were talking about our choir -- the sopranos in particular -- and she came up and said "And what about sex in the city?" Well, actually, she said, "And what about Sex and the City?" because she thought we were talking about a TV show called The Sopranos. The Empress and I had never heard of either (have I mentioned that we aren't hip?), so we gazed at her blankly. I was running through that whole mental attempt to impart meaning into incomprehensible utterances. First of course was the city issue. The nearest real city is Kansas City, or conceivably Oklahoma City, but both are quite a distance. So I was wondering whether maybe she might be thinking of Tulsa.

Then there was the sex part. I came up completely blank on that. I don't know what kind of choir they have at Cleverboots's synagogue, but sex really doesn't arise at all in our choir. Ever. Or if it does, I'm out of the loop entirely. And I was quite certain that she was not inviting me and The Empress to Dallas for a tryst.

All this took just a few seconds, of course, and then we got it cleared up. So when I told Cleverboots this week that I would have to give up Sex and the City, she insisted that I needed to watch it on DVD, so we could continue to discuss it as it evolves. I will put it on my Netflix list.

In the meantime, I have a Netflix of Coupling, a British series that reminds me of Sex and the City. It was actually modeled on Friends. However, it has little in common with that program. Sex and the City is a show about four women who are very intelligent and thoughtful about everything except their romantic relationships (well, okay, they are also weird about shoes and walk home through New York City alone. However, they are actually surrounded by cameramen, so I think they are safe).  Friends is about a group of  dolts. There is one character who is the official Stupid One, but actually they are all twits, including a fellow who we are supposed to believe is a working paleontologist. Coupling is about a group of bright, if quirky, people. So right there it is more like Sex and the City. It is also well written and well acted, again making it fit into Sex and the City's side of the Venn diagram. But Coupling , like Friends, has the male and female points of view. On Sex and the City, we can easily tell when the men are feeling that the women are shrewish, unreasonable, slutty, or irritating -- and they are -- but their actual thoughts are a complete mystery. Coupling is very funny, which may put it with either of the other programs, depending on what you find funny.

Has this anything to do with knitting? Well, there is a very funny scene in the second episode of Coupling about socks. Meanwhile, DNA has progressed beyond the cable section, to the ribbed section. This section, the designer says, is usual in seaman's scarves. It makes the scarf more comfortable to wear, with the stretchy ribbed bit behind the neck and the flaring cable bits in the front. When I switched to the ribbing, I did not immediately realize that I needed to continue making the selvedge stitches, and I had to take out a row and start over. I mention this in case any Gentle Reader should decide to make this scarf. I know from the DNA Along that many of us have been confused by these selvedge stitches, but I may be the only one who got confused about them twice.. It is probably my comeuppance for being snide about the mental capacity of the characters of Friends.

We did our usual trip to the farmers' market, and then went to buy a football and go to one of the myriad pep rallies taking place in town, and then called out for pizza and watched the game on TV. This means that I had pastry for breakfast, free "brat" -- a sort of hot dog -- and soda for lunch, and pepperoni pizza for dinner. Even with the celery stalk I chose for dessert, this does not count as no simple carbs and no saturated fats, which is what I am supposed to eat. But a game day carries certain obligations with it. We may not dress in red or put flags on our car (although one does feel a little conspicuous here if one skips that step), but at least we do not eat lentil soup and cracked wheat bread on game day. In spite of our sacrifice, our team lost.

#1 daughter has been calling home for our family's traditional fall recipes. She is in New York state, where they have apparently settled into fall. There were pumpkins at the market yesterday, and of course we are having football, but we are still only flirting with autumn here. So I haven't made apple cake yet, but she has. I was surprised to learn from #2 daughter that #1 doesn't actually like to eat this stuff -- she is hoping her husband will -- but just feels as though it ought to be made, since it is fall. When the sisters talked, #1 had a counterful of autumnal eats that she didn't plan to eat.

Of course this surprised me. If nothing else, I didn't know that she didn't like those foods. What a well-brought-up girl she is, to be sure! On the other hand, it is not without precendent. I myself make Jell-O at major holidays, even though no one will necessarily eat it, simply because it dresses up the table. You can make Jell-O things in shapes and colors that fit your decorating theme far better than anything that would actually occur in nature. Here is the official website where you can find many highly decorative Jell-O recipes: http://www.kraftfoods.com/jello/main.aspx?s=&m=content_main  The odd thing about this site is that for quite some time, as it loads, the main thing on the page is "A message from our lawyers." This adds a surprising air of danger to the experience. Or you could just go directly to the Gallery of Regrettable Foods (http://www.lileks.com/institute/gallery/index.html ), which features Jell-O largely. Actually, go there anyway if you have some time to kill. It is hilarious -- sort of a narrow-focus art-history site with a bite.

Eating certain foods at certain seasons is what I was brought up with. I remember once waiting at an elevator with my grandmaman in the summer, when she smelled sauerkraut. It seemed to offend her that anyone would eat choucroute in the summer. That, she said, was an autumn food. Now, sauerkraut is, I know, a food that my family does not like -- except for me. So I make it at some point in the fall anyway, knowing that they will complain. Surely I should not have to go through the entire year with no choucroute garni, merely because my family has this unreasonable distaste for it. And probably apple cake for dessert. Muah hah ha! (evil laugh)

DNA is getting to look fairly predictable as I finish the 4th repeat. So, in hopes of being less predictable: on the right is the current state of the front of DNA, and on the left, the back side. I had qualms about doing a cabled scarf without making it circular, so that the wrong side would be inside and invisible, but in fact the back is reasonably cool-looking.

By the by, the new Knitty is up, right here: http://knitty.com/ISSUEfall04/index.html . None of the patterns is on my must-make list, but the articles are as always excellent.

We have given up taking the newspaper at our house. The big pile of newsprint going to the recycling every week was what convinced me to do so -- that and the fact that local paper dropped Miss Manners. I can read the local paper at work, and all kinds of papers are available online. In fact, now that I do not have a physical paper to read, I pick and choose. I read columns at the Ft. Worth Star-Telegraph and the Washington Post. I get my news and editorials at the San Fransisco Chronicle. The Wall Street Journal for business news, of course. And then I go to my favorite knitting blogger,Yarn Harlot (http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/ ), Ozarque's Journal (http://www.livejournal.com/users/ozarque/) , and my xanga subs. The local paper, while it is filled with wacky letters to the editor, Republican bias, and amusing typos, very rarely has any good knitting content.

Each of us can now have personalized news. This is nice, of course, because we can read exactly what we want to. This is also bad, because we are not exposed to a variety of viewpoints and a range of information -- we just read what we already know and agree with, or at least what we are already interested in. So I am reading better papers, with fuller reportage, but fewer parts of them. The news I receive, no longer filtered by the local paper's staff, is instead filtered by my own biases and those of a collection of bloggers chosen merely because they are a) witty and entertaining, or b) relatives. Or, of course, both.

The tendency, then, is to become more and more firmly entrenched in our opinions. When the greatest controversy I encounter is whether or not to be a yarn snob, or possibly the lasting value of ponchos, I can be secure in my prejudices, but lose the opportunity to find out that I am wrong. We can also become more and more narrow in our tastes and interests. We've probably all encountered people who assure us that "everyone" does this and "no one" believes that, when what they actually meant was that the ten people they pay attention to do this and don't believe that.

The solution, at least for me, is to introduce a little randomness by allowing other people to make choices for me sometimes. In Book Group, I meet new books and authors whom I would not have chosen to read for myself. By blindly accepting Netflix recommendations every now and then, I encounter films I wouldn't otherwise have chosen. By singing in choirs, I learn music I wouldn't have thought of on my own. It's a small solution to a small problem, but at least it doesn't waste paper.

We went to hear pianist Jura Margulis last night. Amazing! There was a daring passage in the Beethoven when he found himself in a trio with two cell phones, but otherwise it was a wonderful concert.

He played a couple of pieces from Wagner's operas: "Isolde's Liebestod" and "Siegfried's Funeral March." People make fun of Wagner -- #2 son says "Don't go all Wagner on me" -- but there is hardly anything more lush and emotional. And for a pianist, Wagner is just the thing when you want to show off. The piano had to lie down and fan itself afterwards. He also played "Danse Macabre." #2 son pointed out the resemblance, in parts, to "Carol of the Bells," which I had never noticed before.

The mayor gave "a few remarks" in which he said that the arts are the heart of our town, which I believe is true. Football, of course, is also close to the heart-- maybe the stomach.

Autumn, season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. Well, not quite. It is still warm. The geese are flying west -- I don't know quite why. Are they practicing for when it's time to head south? Having a last fling before winter? I don't know. It's not yet really fall, but summer is mercifully past.

You can't wear white any more, but you can make candy. All summer, it has been too humid to succeed, unless you cheat and use things like marshmallow creme or condensed milk, which of course we would never do. Here is a recipe for #1 daughter, who went out and bought a candy thermometer for the purpose.

Fudge

2/3 c. half and half

1/3 c. light corn syrup

2 c. sugar (or less)

2 oz unsweetened chocolate

4 T butter

1 t. vanilla or pepermint

Combine cream, syrup, and sugar in saucepan. Cook, stirring, till sugar dissolves. Stir in chocolate till melted. Bring to boil, then cook to 238 degrees without stirring. Remove from heat and cool to 100 degrees without touching. Stir in butter and vanilla. Beat till it loses its sheen, or your arm falls off. Pour into buttered pan and let cool slightly. Score. Cool completely before cutting.

This makes the best possible chocolate fudge. Perhaps you do not like chocolate fudge. If that is the case, you may prefer this one:

Opera Fudge

2 c. sugar

1/2 t. salt

3/4 c. heavy cream

1/2 c milk

1 T corn syrup

1 T butter

1 t vanilla

Follow the same directions.

Opera fudge is also known, in my family, as Bertha's Candy, because Bertha made it every Christmas. She had three daughters, who did the beating with wooden spoons. They made big shirt boxes full for everyone they knew. Having done this all through their girlhoods, they naturally never wanted to make it again. And for years after Bertha's death, no one did. People tried, but without success. No one remembered exactly how to make it. So people just reminisced about Bertha's wonderful candy.

Last year, I typed her ingredients into google and tried all the recipes that came up until I found the one my mother said tasted like Bertha's candy. In order to be consistently successful with the candy, I read the Physics of  Making Fudge. I recommend that you not attempt to make fudge without reading this article.  http://www.gi.alaska.edu/ScienceForum/ASF8/871.html

My favorite story about the origins of fudge is that girls made it in the dorms at Vassar over spirit lamps. If they had just come from class in supersaturation and crystallization of substances, it could be true. But I question it, because no way did they have candy thermometers. On the other hand, all the failed batches of Bertha's candy made excellent ice cream topping, or you could just enjoy it with a spoon.

Once you understand the physics of the thing, you can succeed every time. Opera Fudge is good with fresh cranberries, or peanuts, or dipped into melted chocolate. The people at Russell Stover say that they freeze all their candies, so if you make it now, you can put it in your freezer for the holidays. However, you must not open the package until it reaches room temperature. You Have Been Warned.

DNA is coming along. Natalie frogged hers and switched to larger needles, too, so I do not feel alone. I found a pattern for a lovely seed stitch beret, too (in the current Woman's Day) which should go well with it. #1 daughter is in the frozen north (New York state) for the winter, so she will need both, I am sure.

The pattern for this cable is of course inspired by the double helix of DNA. I remember learning the exciting story of  Crick and Watson and their discovery in seventh grade. Not only is it a great story, but a handsome cable as well. But while working on it, I have wondered whether there aren't other vocational cables around. Of course, the familiar cables are reminiscent of sailors -- but why not  a musical staff for #2 daughter, or some chemical thing for son-in-law, who is engaged in the study of the chemistry of nuclear reactors? Have any of you seen such things? Or is anyone out there skillful enough to design such a thing, as June Oshiro did the DNA cable?

This sounds like a worthy project for some future life. Right now I feel a little too busy to attempt it. I have been trying to calculate how many things I can realistically knit as holiday gifts, in addition to finishing the anniversary quilt on time and making The Empress a chemise for the madrigal performances. Summer crafts -- and winter ones, too, once the holidays are past -- can expand to fill the time available. The fourth green sock, for example, is not causing me any anxiety at all. But can I plan to make things for all the folks on my gift list?

In the 19th century, well-brought-up girls did a certain number of inches of their knitting each day. So I could figure how many inches total I have planned, and divide that by the total number of days available, and knit that many inches each day.

Something to calculate, or at least contemplate, as we all join our president in his concern about those poor OB-GYNs who are not able to practice their love with women http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/N06540712.htm . I gather that his concern is not with their need for reasonably-priced Viagra, but rather was intended as a dig at John Edwards, though news sources have said it is not possible to tell what he meant by that remark. Some have reported that he was "unfazed" by his faux pas; I think he must be used to this sort of thing by now, and may not even have noticed.

I did not knit in the meeting, but I might as well have. It was much as I had anticipated, except that the owner of the center was present, which seemed to cut down on the whining. The Empress winked at me during one of the many discussions of the football schedule. I think it was when one of the guys said that the entire east side of town empties when there is an away game. One is left with the image of a ghost town (east of the highway, that is), with the occasional sad non-football fan shuffling through the streets in search of sustenance.

Then they planned committees, and one of them was to include That Man "and his gals." I definitely could have knitted in that meeting.

The Knitting Revolutionary(http://monnsqueak.blogdrive.com/ ) spins in choir practice.I have thought of knitting in choir, but how would I hold the music? Spinning seems like more of a statement than knitting, too. Larger implements. The problem with all knitting in public is that non-knitters assume you are not paying attention. The fact that we knitters often do this in order to avoid wasting time -- and tell people so -- adds to this danger. Ozarque (http://www.livejournal.com/users/ozarque/ ) is having a discussion ont he matter of paying attention to people, and you can tell that it is a big deal. We knitters know that we can listen and knit at the same time, but the folks we are with are likely to take umbrage.

Unless they were thinking of us as one of somebody's gals in the first place.