We decorated for Hallowe’en this weekend. In this picture you can barely see my paddlewheel quilt made of William Morris fabrics. You have to just think about how wonderful William Morris fabrics are and let your imagination fill it in.

I also have a Hallowe’en quilt:

The colors clash horribly with our regular decor, which I consider part of the Hallowe’en effect.

A detail of the Hallowe’en quilt:

I used to be ambivalent about Hallowe’en. We dressed the kids up, did a little mild Trick or Treating some years, and otherwise ignored it. Then one year, just before Hallowe’en, my little brother died. That Hallowe’en, with people putting out gravestones for fun and dressing up as accident victims, was indescribably horrible, so I won’t bother trying. By the next Hallowe’en, I had determined that we had to come up with some other associations for Hallowe’en, or suffer miserably every year.

I don’t believe in unnecessary suffering, so we embraced Hallowe’en, and now we celebrate it properly. We make special foods, including carefully-molded marzipan pumpkins. We decorate. We play special music and even sound effect tapes. We carve pumpkins. We have one of those shadow machines that casts eerie patterns on our porch. We all dress up. We watch slightly spooky movies and read ghost stories.

#1 son’s favorite spooky author is Edgar Allen Poe, and it is hard to argue with that. I like Saki (H.H. Munro) as well, though, and have just introduced the boy to his collected works. I hope you will consider reading one of his short stories, too. Here is one of the creepier ones, which you might enjoy: http://mbhs.bergtraum.k12.ny.us/cybereng/shorts/vashtar.html

Since it is on the screen and does not require propping, you can read it while you knit. If you are knitting little skulls, a pattern which has incomprehensibly popped up all over the web, you will have a total Hallowe’en experience.

Here is a detail from the table runner:

Can you tell that it is completely different from my usual style of quilt? I had read an article about a Bad Girls’ quilting group, of which a friend of mine is a member, and how they gloried in their imprecision and primitive folk-art quality. That’s what I was going for. I may get it done this year, but of course if I just fling it onto the table without finishing it, it will be even more imprecise-looking.

I’m also thinking of making my garden into a Hallowe’en decoration. Instead of cleaning it up, I can put in some pumpkins and stretch some of that artificial cobweb over it and pretend that its unseemly messiness is part of the Look. In fact, this could open whole new vistas. A dozen packages of that cobweb stuff would cover all the untidy parts of my house, and I could pretend the entire thing was a carefully-arranged Hallowe’en Look.

I’ve been involved in a lot of conversations about love lately.

First was Partygirl, who recently wrote to her two children (grown, single) saying that she hoped they would know the beauty of mature, married love such as their parents have known all these many years, which is so much better than the first flush of romance. I thought that was sweet, whether they laughed at it or not.

Then of course there were all those madrigals. I translated them and wrote the introductions, so I had the chance to savor all the varied views of love they offered. This one pines, burns, and unravels himself (my Italian is not good) in spite of his knowledge that the lady does not return his love. Another gazes in adoration, hoping only that she will think of him a little. Another murmurs endearments in an extravagant stream – good morning my heart, good morning my sweet life, good morning my all… — in what must be a joyfully requited love. All of these are valid experiences of love, now as in the 15th century. Some things do not change.

On Sunday, we sang a terrible hymn about families. The families that we make for ourselves, “partner, roommate, friend,” as well as our birth families, with a verse about abusive families. It sounded like a memo at some terribly priggish hyper-progressive school. There are plenty of unemployed poets who could have done it better. Even the madrigal in which the wooer offers to, um, service his lady all night like a ram was better music. But the sentiment — that there are people throughout our lives whom we love and value, not just our spouses and nuclear families – was true. And important to some of the listeners, and to some of the singers as well — though Egypt made gagging gestures. It is sadly true that people in our culture who choose something other than marriage and children have to live with others’ questioning the value of their choices.

Then the Water Jar (http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=TheWaterJar) wrote about the lust for love, the desire not for a particular person, but for someone to love. This comes in a variety of flavors, too. The skin-hunger that probably keeps the species going, a wish for affection that is near to loneliness, the movie-driven fear that one is the only single in a world of couples. The romance of “Someday my prince will come,” the wish to get on with the next stage of life: adulthood, which for many of us includes marriage and children. The nagging feeling that life could be better, and the hope that someone else could fix it.

And #2 daughter is having a little trouble with suitors. Since she is happily unattached, she is paradoxically more attractive to guys than if  she were looking for love. She is getting excitement and fulfillment from study, work, and art. But there are boys hanging around all the time. It’s hard to get your work done under these circumstances.

Her older sister and I have pointed out that they can’t help it. Not that boys are like ravening beasts who cannot control themselves, but there is a time in a boy’s life when he can’t help paying excessive attention to girls, whether they encourage him or not. It shouldn’t give a girl a swelled head when she is pursued by guys at this stage of life. Later, they will write madrigals or something. (I think girls go through this stage at around 14 or 15, a time when the boys they go to school with are as unattractive as they will ever be in their lives, so they mostly swoon harmlessly over pop singers. It has been designed this way to protect us all.)

We (#1 daughter and I) helped #2 daughter make a list of criteria for a suitable partner. This will help her sort them out and avoid getting too distracted from schoolwork. We are divided, within the family, as to whether she is inclined to choose guys who are not emotionally stable, or whether she drives them mad, but we made sure she put mental stability at the top of the list. High intelligence, too. She put cuteness on the list herself. Good manners, integrity, and the ability to manage without mind-altering substances are also on the list. So, when some Galahad arrives and sweeps her up onto his saddlebow (or however they do it on campuses these days), she can quickly whip out the list and make sure not to commit herself without being certain that he fits the criteria. We are taking care of her.

So I have thought about love this week. I have come to no particular conclusions. I have the good fortune to have a strong marriage and a happy family, and a few piratical adventures to look back on if I ever miss the excitement of single life. I can contemplate these topics, as does the Water Jar, in peace. And I offer you another affectionate picture of the DNA scarf and its mate, the Paris-Match beret, showing how much they have grown together.

They haven’t grown much since yesterday? Maybe not, but this is the last row I can fit on the circular needles. I will switch to the dps today. The band seems too big, so I am also thinking about clever ways to narrow it a bit. There is a row of small eyelets which could accomodate an I-cord, or I could single crochet along the surface of the inside (so it doesn’t show) with elastic thread. Then, with my #3 circular needle free, I can begin the next DNA scarf. I am about settled on the fisherman-color Wool-ease, although I also have some very nice grey wool. Would the cables show up well on such a dark color? Deep questions, these.

Here is the completed DNA scarf, affectionately posed with the Paris-Match beret, which is a few inches into the decreasing stage. You are seeing the top of the beret, still open, with the brim visible at the bottom, and the scarf under it. They were not designed to go together, but I thought they would be a good match, and I think I was right. Once I get down to the dps, and have my circular 3 back, I will begin on DNA scarf number two. I can’t believe that I finished the whole thing and still have to look at the chart. But the beret is very simple, so I will have a simple project to carry around, and one requiring a chart to keep at home.

We decorated for Hallowe’en yesterday, at #2 son’s suggestion. In the box with the Hallowe’en quilt and all the electric Jack o’ Lanterns and stuff was the patchwork table runner I started last Hallowe’en. We had just had the wedding, and there was no way to finish it in time, so I put it away in its half-completed state and literally forgot all about it. I may finish it this year. On the other hand, I have an old college friend coming to visit, so I feel a need to clean my house. And all these holiday gifts to make. And a benefit concert to arrange. And the Christmas concerts: the Vivaldi Gloria and Messiah. And the knitting circle, and study. And a life to conduct. So I might not.

I realized that I had said long ago that I would post a snap of #2 daughter’s evening wrap FO and here it is.

It is a drop-stitch pattern in Brilla. I love that stuff. Here is the stitch detail. Note the stripe of Lurex on the left.

The question now at hand in my own knitting is what yarn to use for the next DNA scarf. I had intended to make two blue ones, but since I am now making a hat to match the first one, I doubt that there will be enough. I have a fisherman-style Wool-ease that would be very good, I think.

I also have the felted things and cotton things to make for Christmas. And the knitting circle hats. So I will not run out of knitting.

Here is the DNA scarf. #1 son did not trust me when I said I was only going to take the scarf’s picture and not his, so he donned his gorilla mask. An effective but alarming costume. You can’t see the cables well in this shot at all, but you can see the length, and perhaps the nice drape of this yarn.

My first DNA scarf start, on #1s, was still on the needles, so I frogged it. I decided to knit it up immediately into a matching beret — the Paris-Match seed stitch beret from the last Woman’s Day magazine. So here it is in a silly pile of crimped blue on the floor where it fell, instead of being nicely skeined.

You see that I have all the essentials for an afternoon of knitting: the pattern, measuring tool, a variety of needles,a book to read, the remote in case I hit complicated shaping and have to switch to a Netflix. You do not see the pot of tea. You do not see the Chicken and Autumn Vegetables en Casserole in the crockpot. You do not see the fact that I dusted and did laundry all morning so that I can now relax. You do not see the soft, rainy afternoon. Allow me to assure you, however, that all these things are as they should be. I hope you have planned for yourself an equally pleasant afternoon.

I finished the DNA scarf last night, and blocked it.

There is still some frilling going on at the edges, but I expect that will resolve itself with wear. #2 son tried it on (picture will be posted later) and said, “Hey! That looks like DNA — see, there’s the double helix!” I take this as evidence that it was successful. It is also soft and warm, qualities which will be greatly appreciated in the winter. Scriveling also finished her DNA scarf, though she didn’t put her name on the DNA-along. She was a secret DNA-along-er. I will be making one or two more of them, and will probably begin the next one today, after taking some time to appreciate this one. The color, while non-traditional for a seaman’s sweater, is lovely.

#2 son also noted that it smells like a wet dog, which is true. I don’t know why this should be so. I will rinse it in water with a drop of sandalwood oil in it, in hopes of correcting this flaw.

I finished it not at the performance last night, but while watching Timeline at home afterwards. #2 son was thrilled that he could understand a lot of the French (he is taking his first French class). We had both really enjoyed the book, and enjoyed the movie as well, though his comment, “It was good, but not as good as the book,” was accurate. Books are always better, though, because they have your imagination to help them along. And the battle scenes aren’t nearly as long or gory in books, at least when I am reading them. We had some good discussions about weapons technology while they were going on, though. (I still don’t get my husband’s joke about the vacuum. Longbows, crossbows, Greek Fire, vacuums?)

The performance went well. The new library (http://www.faylib.org/ ) is beautiful. We sang in the room pictured at this link, which was a surprising venue, but it had wonderful acoustics.  So did the staircase. However, let me give you a hint — if you are singing madrigals in a large group, in a very live room, while walking, without direction (I mean the singing, not the walking) down an enormous spiral staircase, you will not stay together. The echoes mislead you and everyone makes slight unconscious adjustments to the echoes and pretty soon there is this millisecond of lag between the front and back of the line.

Here’s another hint. You can’t translate madrigals with Babelfish. Here is what Babelfish gave me for “Amor opra che puoi”: “love opra that you can that l mine contentosia d’ eternal always ch’ I gioiro never always love dille that l you know that solae of alive mine and ch’altra desio the love does not make to know them that who not and soggeto to your great reign and dishonourable glie de life.” I didn’t get much out of that, did you? I came upon this translation of “So ben…” on the web, and liked it much better:

“THIS SONG IS IN ITALIAN,
THIS SONG IS IN ITALIAN,
FA LA LA LA
LALALALALALA

BUT I DON’T KNOW THE WORDS,
BUT I DON’T KNOW THE WORDS,
FA LA LA LA
LALALALALALA”

My knowledge of Italian is minimal. Things that look sort of like Latin, menu items, easy phrases used in the Lucia books — the usual for Americans who have not studied Italian. So I was pleased when we did one French song, so at least I would know what was going on. I think this is part of why Italian madrigals often sound just alike — the singers do not know that this one is a bawdy song making fun of Germans, that one is in the character of a silly country girl, and the other is the most romantic thing ever written. They are mostly just singing “This song is in Italian, but I don’t know the words, fa la la la!”

I’ve been strolling around the blogs this morning, rather than cleaning house or practicing my music. Having finally gotten back to the gym for the second time since I went down with a virus, I have allowed the sense of accomplishment to lure me into wasting lots of time. But it has been interesting.

Sandy (http://www.sandysknitting.com/) wants to see all our skies. I haven’t taken any sky pictures recently, but I found this very typical patch of sky in the corner of a snap I had on hand. Show your sky, too!

Mr. Joe (http://www.queerjoe.com ) has taken the interesting position that it is acceptable to be judgemental on questions of style, but not on morality. So we could fault Bill Clinton for eating at McDonald’s, but not for being unfaithful to his wife.

An aside. My mother claimed, when Clinton said, “I did not have sex with that woman,” that it was not a lie. “If that’s sex,” she said, “then a whole lot of nice little old ladies will have to change their opinions of themselves.” She was referring to what Florence King calls “everything-but girls,” who might have flashed their frillies, but still felt entitled to white wedding gowns. See her blog (http://www.livejournal.com/users/ozarque/22806.html ) for an interesting discussion — 19 comments — on whether or not it was a lie.

I found Joe’s view interesting because I have just exactly the opposite opinion. That is, whatever I may say to close friends and family, I would think it was tacky to make public nasty remarks about Mr. Bush’s looks and demeanor. I think it is entirely proper, however, to disapprove of his lying to the American people, or his acceptance of the torture of prisoners, because those are moral issues. It seems to me that we have a responsibility to distinguish between right and wrong, while we probably ought to learn some tolerance on mere matters of taste.

When the erstwhile Scarf Boy (http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=Matt62842003 ) objected to his friend’s unchivalrous behavior, he was himself being chivalrous — a desire to protect women from the cad in question is by definition chivalrous. If he had made snide remarks about his friend’s grammar, that would have been something else. Like maybe just petty.

I have to admit that I sometimes enjoy reading snide comments in blogs and editorials (I read Joe, don’t I?), and I greatly enjoy wickedly satirical fiction. Fran Lebowitz and H.L. Mencken are both enjoyable and thought-provoking reads. But in real life, decisions about where to shop, whom to vote for, and how to behave toward other people should surely be more about good and evil than about good taste.

Natalie (http://knitting.xaviermusketeer.com/ ) is on the home stretch with her DNA scarf, and so am I. I am halfway through the final repeat, and then I’ll have the seed stitch border to do, and that’s all. And then I’ll start the next one. Here is the scarf, not much changed from last time, but in an entirely new and different pose.

I may take it with me to the library opening tonight. I don’t know whether we performers will be allowed to mingle with the paying guests, or will be in a green room.Well, they probably don’t have green rooms at the library, but whatever serves as one. In any case, there might be some knitting time. We had a good dress rehearsal last night, so I am looking forward to the performance.

In other news, I did finish the snoods, helped out by the serendipitous discovery of a suitably-sized doily in my laundry room. Comments on what kind of housekeeper I must be to make serendipitous discoveries in my laundry room will be accepted or not depending on whether they are moral judgements or merely aesthetic ones.

The heralds started off the parade at the Kansas City Renaissance Faire. We set out at 5:00 am, with two girls on the bus shrieking “We stayed up ALL NIGHT!” as each and every passenger embarked.

That was the low point of the trip, though. From then on we all had a good time. I liked the Living History tour section of the Faire (look back for my views on museums if you find this hard to imagine). Then #2 son, whose class I was chaperoning, headed off to try out all the assorted weaponry and I went to the fiber booths and the performances.

It was pirate weekend. I have a soft spot for pirates. I think my whole family does. #1 daughter planned, as a little girl, to get married on a pirate ship. She got married in a back yard, but she did marry a sailor. The women on the bus (the chaperones) wear saying “All women like pirates!”  and the lone man, the teacher, mused that he had always been the landlubber watching the girls run off with pirates. Sigh.

In any case, I enjoyed the pirates’ shows. The jousting was another high point. Most of the boys — including my own son — bought weapons to bring home. None of the girls did. The women bought yarn — as I did — or art objects. Some had their hair braided or such frivolous things.

What is fun about a Renaissance Faire? Part of it is the same as any fair. It’s like the farmers’ market or Autumnfest or the biker fair that went on here while I was in KC. There’s also the fun of dressing up and taking on another character. That’s the same fun as Hallowe’en. It’s leaving our daily lives and responsibilities behind and playing, as we rarely do once we leave childhood.

There’s a charm to the time period, too. The clothes are becoming and festive. There is a romance and simplicity, largely illusory. We ignore the dirt and disease in our reconstructions of the time (though the living history actors did a good job of reminding us). We only think of the prettiness, the daring. The world was new-found and much bigger than folks had thought just a few centuries before. Da Vinci, Shakespeare, and Marco Polo were of this time — but so were fairies and dragons.

We were blessed with good weather. The kids on the bus — 84 of them — were well-behaved and cooperative, and if they tried their hands at archery and bought swords, they did not hurt anyone.

Unfortunately, we were not able to meet up with #2 daughter, as we had hoped. But overall, it was a great trip.

I’ve been asked to put Ozarque’s link over on the side with my xanga subs, but I don’t know how, so I will just have to post it occasionally, like now: http://www.livejournal.com/users/ozarque/

Pokey, if you can tell me how to do that, I would be very grateful.

Another person I would like to be able to put on the side there is the Yarn Harlot (http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/ ) who is trying to make a whole sweater in 14 days. It is a beautiful cabled one. I hope she succeeds. It may seem like a silly quest to me and perhaps to you too, but I always like to see people succeed at their quests.

I am not usually trying to be fast when I knit. For example, it has now taken me over one month to make the DNA scarf. But I am not like my foremothers, trying to keep 13 children in socks and woolies. I knit for fun. As the Librarian says, the yarn lasts longer when you have to frog a lot. And I have done a lot of other things in that month, too.

But lately I have been having to hurry with crafting. First, the anniversary quilt had to be finished in time for the anniversary — and it did arrive on the day, I am pleased to report. Then the Empress and I learned, two days before our dress rehearsal — with photographs — that the director of the madrigal choir had An Evil Plan for those of us with short hair. An Evil Plan requiring a quick hand with hooks and needles.

He bought some nasty fake hair which he intended to attach to our heads with ribbons. Having just been to the Renaissance Faire, I was able to propose an alternative: snoods. So I sewed one and crocheted another, real fast, and he said no to the sewn (fastest) but yes to the crocheted. I have therefore been crocheting madly, at home, at meetings, and at work. I even did a couple of surreptitious rows at Bible study. I have hopes of finishing in time.

The Empress suspects that our director’s Evil Plan extends further than mere horsetail-like switches from the beauty supply house. She thinks he has it in mind for us to take on the worst excesses of RenFaire costuming. Padded breeches. Bosoms like twin globes of flan quivering above our bodices. Dead white faces with red Cupid’s bow lips and fake beauty spots. This is the preferred everyday look for one of our younger members, and I say let her and the director go with it if that is what they like. However, it was not the ordinary mode in the 16th century, any more than it is now. And what might look fetchingly risque on people in their 20s makes those of us in our 40s look like raddled old strumpets, male or female. My KC Renaissance Faire pictures are still not back from the developers, or I would show you what I mean.

On the other hand, that may be for the best. Murphy’s law would guarantee that the individual I chose to illustrate “raddled old strumpet” would randomly click on this site today and be crushed. So just take my word for it.

Would you like to make yourself a snood? You can wear it to the next Renaissance Faire or madrigal performance (lots of people do), or to a Civil War reenactment, when they actually had come up with crochet. For that matter, if ponchos and boleros have made it back into fashion, the snood cannot be far behind. You can be in the forefront of fashion. The remainder of this post is instructions, so skip it if you do not want to make a snood, for some reason.

Begin by measuring the circumference of your head. Put the tape around your head, from the occiput to the crown. Multiply the figure by .75. This is the diameter of your snood. It will seem too large, but I worked it out with the assistance of a stuffed lamb and some paper napkins, so I can assure you that it is correct.

Now, if you are going to sew a snood (“bag headress” was the term in Elizabethan days), you must find a circular object of the correct diameter to serve as a pattern. You may think that you can calculate the radius, cut a string of the appropriate size, and attach it to a pencil. Then, pinning the other end of the string securely in the center of the fabric, you construct your circle. If you can do this without ending up with an excitingly wavy shape, you’re a better geometer than I am, Gunga Din. Which you probably are. But if that doesn’t work, go back to searching for disks.

You may be successful if you are at home, where you may be well furnished with trays, removeable marble table tops, and mirrors. At work, we found a cardboard bulletin board decoration circle and a plastic lid from one of those sandwich trays people bring to meetings. Both worked fine. In a dormitory, you may have more trouble, but also more fun, as you bound from room to room, tape measure in hand,  pawing through people’s possessions in search of a 16.5″ object.

Draw around your object. Cut out your circle. Sew a channel for your elastic all the way around the edge and put in the elastic as you usually do. We made one for the empress in a nice knitted velveteen kind of thing, and she can wear it to The Electric Cowboy once she’s through with the madrigals.

If you want to knit or crochet your snood, start in the middle and increase outward. Many people immediately think of starting with the outside and decreasing, but this will not give you a flat circle. It will give you a nice cap, but you will not get a snood out of it. If you are going to knit, go find a nice round doily pattern and follow it. You won’t be ready for tomorrow night anyway.

If you are in a hurry, you can crochet a simple mesh.  Don’t ask what size hook or what kind of yarn. If you have time to think about that, you’re not in as much of a hurry as I am. I made one with crochet cotton and one with Caron Jewel Box, and used a G hook for both because that was what I had thrown in my purse. It worked.

So chain 9, form a circle, and sc 18 in the center. Then you can (ch 3, sk 1 sc, sc in next sc) around, sl st to join round. Now ch4, sc in the middle of the next arch, and so on around, joining each round rather than making a spiral. Chain more each time — ch 5 on the next round, 6 on the next, etc. By the time I got to ch 10, I had reached the needed diameter, but it will depend on the thread you have chosen. I did one more round of dc all the way around it to make a channel for the eleastic. Cut the elastic to the original head measurement and thread it through. Check the fit and sew it closed. If you have time before your call, sew beads at the intersections, vowing that next time you will not be in such a hurry and will thread the beads on properly before you begin.

It is #1 daughter’s anniversary. This is one of her wedding pictures. Do you think I am posting this in order to show off my lovely daughter and her knitting pattern husband? Of course not. I am showing off the wedding dress I made. Here is a picture showing the train:

And here is a detail of the hand applique and beading on said train:

And, hey, I made the bridesmaid dress, too, along with #2 daughter:

It is customary for bridesmaid’s dresses to make them look like a giant confection of some sort, so I think #2 daughter was lucky to be a tall scoop of raspberry sherbet. The dress was supposed to have a bunch of ribbon roses, but she politely refused to allow that. She wouldn’t let us put any in her hair, either. There is one at the back, however. The pink dress is bridesmaid satin, and has never been worn since.

The wedding dress is an underdress of satin, with an overdress of embroidered organza with pearl beading and hand-finished French seams. It’s from a Vogue pattern and took about one hundred hours to make. I’m making that up. I don’t know how long it took. I do know that I enjoyed every minute.

So Happy Anniversary to #1 daughter and Son-in-Law.