denmark

How I hate this country. Alright, maybe hate is a strong word – how’s despise? Dislike? Yes. Strongly, strongly dislike.

It’s not the cold weather; being a knitterly person, the cold is such the perfect excuse for knitting and crocheting that I have seven open projects going and can’t even decide which one to work on. No, the cold is a fun, welcome change from sunny California. I find it fascinating watching the rain, the people bundled up, the wind howling through our bedroom since the window doesn’t shut all the way..

It’s not the food, though at first I thought it might be the food. I’ve never been a fan of dark bread, but here, bread is dark bread and no other, served in thin rectangles reminiscent of damp cardboard. Thankfully, there are delectable things to heap on it, like cucumbers, eggs, honey, Tartex, and Danish cheese strong enough to rival durian on Fear Factor. The cultural philosophy of smørrebrød amounts to piling as many goodies on in order to virtually eliminate notice of anything bread-like underneath. This is strange considering how attached the Danes are to the bread itself.
Here’s a good time to point out that the spouse’s parents are vegetarian. Mind you, I have nothing against vegetarians, since the spouse is one and I’m halfway there myself. But it seems that there is no greater Hell on earth than to be a Northern European and become vegetarian. And perhaps, of an older and less-adventurous generation. His mother prefers no salt and his father has something against garlic.. and other flavors, I’d imagine. My family would call it pap, or baby food, things so bland and textureless as you would feed invalids with. *shudder*

I’m sure there’s real food elsewhere in this country. The last time we were here and away from his family, we ate out at a few places and the food was excellent. There was some amazing smoked fish and shrimp from somewhere, too. (You can tell just how familiar I am with the country by the detailed place names like “somewhere”.) I love the cheeses and sometimes when we’re out and about, I smell the most amazing aromas wafting out of restaurants and around street vendors.
No, it’s partly that I’m sick, having been struck down with a nasty flu the day after getting here. I’ve been spiking a fever every day since and haven’t even had the energy to knit. And it’s that I didn’t want to come here. I wanted this to be my vacation, uninterrupted bliss in Birmingham with my family for six glorious weeks. His mother thought it would be a great idea to hop over and visit for a week and I almost cried at the thought. It’s not that I don’t like her, but I just wanted to get away. Sadly, this is no longer an option when there are grandchildren involved. If they wanted to ruin my holiday, then we’d come to Denmark for 5 days, I told the spouse. (Somehow he’s dragged it out to eight days. Joy.)

Typically, the main reason I’m having such a miserable time here is the spouse himself. Since our first trip here three years ago, he repeatedly makes the same mistake over and over: lack of communication. Two months ago, when we talked about coming here to his father’s house now, the plan was that his mother would come stay for a couple of days. Then a few weeks later, he mentioned that his aunt would come over the weekend. Other than that, the idea was to meet up with a few friends of his during the week. A few days ago, he tells me that his cousin (plus hubby & kids) is coming. This morning he mentions another aunt and uncle and that his father needs his help “getting things ready”. As I press him for details, it turns out they are having a party at the house this afternoon. Fascinating. The other night it was staying out in the near-freezing cold (me with a fever, to boot) for six hours when we had agreed we’d only be out for three hours. It took two hours huddled in bed to get a little warm and then I lost track of things as my fever hit 102.

*sigh*
*sniffle*

I wish I could be a bigger person than this. I feel so small and petty right now, but I’m sick, tired, and starving. I know I should be grateful for having food to eat at all, but I would kill for a bowl of curry laksa.

There is one thing I’m certain of – I’m so not coming here again. Seriously. Once Spice is a little older and moves on to solid foods, the spouse is welcome to bring her here on his own.

uk: first week

The flight was surprisingly alright! Spice was pretty mellow, and slept through takeoff and landing. We had one bumpy bit where I took her to the bathroom with just a diaper and wipes for a change to discover that we would be needing a wardrobe change as well! Stepped out of the bathroom to find out that dinner service had just started and we were stranded for a while before I could get back our seats. Arrived at Heathrow and was waiting for the second bag to find out that someone else had walked off with it! Had to wait around for an hour until he was called and could come back to the airport with it – he looked very, very embarrassed. :-)

Totally abbreviated here because we had jet lag the first two days and have been sick since then. It’s been rough, because Spice has been sooo needy and I don’t get much time free other than showering and eating.. a bit like the early days a couple of months ago. It seems we’ve picked up the local flu and just have to get over it, but I’m tired and trying not to be disappointed at such an awful start to a vacation. Being sick with a sick baby, I’d rather be at home, but then again – if we hadn’t come, we probably wouldn’t be sick right now.. *sigh*

It’s cold and I left all my yarn at home. I couldn’t bring the projects I’d planned on and in an upset packing frenzy, left everything behind but my crochet hooks. I’m borrowing some leftover KnitPicks WotA from a shawl/throw I gave my aunt two Christmases ago and started on a sweater for Spice, but I just realized that it’s not wide enough to fit. So annoyed, as I’ve been finding scraps of time to get as far into it as I have and now I’ll have to rip it all out… bleah. Not a good week.

On the upside, I’m thinking of making a sweater dress instead. Here’s to silver linings…

eggs: a love affair

This morning, I had fried eggs. They were lightly pan-fried and were served warm and alone on a small plate. Two were had with freshly ground sea salt and black pepper, and two were lightly dusted with Parmesan. I quietly ate them standing by the kitchen sink, looking out the window, in part to avoid the dog’s longing glances and the not-so-subtle licking of her lips.

I love eggs. I hated them as a child, but lately I can’t seem to get enough of them. The average egg has 5.5g of protein and is quick and easy to make in a variety of ways, no matter how much you hate eggs. As an old-world custom, my mother used to break a raw egg in a mug of warm milk and make me drink it to “fatten” me up. Sunday breakfasts always included eggs, so my choice at the time was scrambled and with a few drops of Tabasco and soy sauce on top. (For some reason, eggs with soy sauce always tastes like bacon.) Recently, I’ve found gently hardboiled eggs to be a treat – easy to cook in the morning and quickly snack on through the day. When I have more time, I prefer my eggs soft-cooked, as in liquid whites and runny yolks, served with freshly ground salt, pepper, and buttered toast ’soldiers’ to dip in. If you’re at all curious about the wonderful world of cooking eggs, I highly recommend Michel Roux’s Eggs.The recipes are to-die-for, even if a little floofy French gourmet.

Which brings me to another one-food-topic book that I love: Oysters by Rebecca Stott. For the oyster-lover, this is a must-read. Enough said.

Then, there are those of you who are fond of neither eggs nor oysters. A pity really, but I even have a food book recommendation for you. Salt: A History is a fascinating read into that humble staple that graces just about every kitchen table. If you don’t like salt, well then.. good luck with that. :-)

pixie

I’m getting my hair cut… short. It was starting to look awful postpartum, so I’ve gone from 10+ inches to a pixie bob! Pictures to come later!

baby leggings

EZ’s baby leggings turned out super-cute, but a bit too big for Spice right now. She just turned 4 months, and I’d guess they’ll fit her around 6 months.

These ones were knit up in Cascade 220, which is some kind of Peruvian wool. I doubt it’s merino, but regardless, I don’t think I’ll be using it for baby-things-against-the-skin anytime soon. It’s one of my favorite “workhorse” yarns and not terribly scratchy, but it’s just not as soft as I’d like for baby stuff. Spice was a little fussy in it, and call me twitchy, but I wonder if it was the wool.

I’ve started on another similar garment, this time in Berroco’s Ultra Alpaca. I really like that yarn, btw, as it’s sturdy, soft and not too pricey. I’m following the general idea of EZ’s leggings, but aiming for overalls. :-) No booties, straight leg with a cuff, etc. I’m almost to the legs, so I’ll try and post pictures as I go.

socked

Arrrgh – I can’t believe I’ve finished my first pair of socks!! *pauses and looks around* Umm.. now that I think about it, where did I put them?

They came out awesome. Perfect, size 8 fit! I’m so totally impressed with Charlene Schurch’s instructions on foot size, such that I’m asking all my family and friends what their shoe size is. My aunt explicitly told me not to bring her shoes for Christmas. :-)

I know Kitten deflated my belated pipe dreams of knitting up Christmas prezzies in time, but these socks took me about a day each. With a little more relaxed knitting, I could crank out a pair in a couple of days. I know that sounds overly ambitious, but hell, I didn’t even use markers for the short row heel on the second sock. I thought about it, but realized all that slipping them on and off would just slow me down.

I’m itching to start another pair, but have too many other projects to finish, including the cable scarf and the kitty pi.

preemie hats for charity

I had whipped most of these up to donate over a year ago for a time-specific cause and had a batch left over that never got sent in. My mother recently started a new job in a hospital with a NICU that could use preemie items, so I pulled these out and made a few more.

I don’t really follow a pattern, since I want variable sizes to fit newborns and preemies of all sizes. I use random yarns and hooks and play with making a 10-stitch straight swatch until I get a gauge I like.

Chain 3, and work 12 dc in the first stitch. Join with a slip stitch. You can continue to work in rounds, or work in a spiral. Work 2 dc in each stitch around until you have 28 stitches. (How you play with that number, 28, is the key to a larger or smaller hat.) Work a single dc in each stitch around until the hat is as long as you want. Finish off the round with a slip stitch, or if you’re working in a spiral, work a sc, then a slip stitch to end the spiral. Add a picot or shell stitch border for a more frilly effect.

On a side note, the road trip went horribly. My sister got into a massive argument on the way back on Sunday over me being overprotective because I pulled the sunshade cover over Spice’s carseat just in case her son threw something. Mind you, he bit my sister just 6 hours before. I told her to drop me off at the next fast food stop and had the spouse come pick me up. ::shudder:: What a lunatic.

road trip

I agreed to drive up to Salinas this weekend with my sister adn my nephew to visit my mother. She’ll be here in in an hour to pick me and Spice up.

I’m nervous about this for all sorts of reasons. First of all, my sister and I have been at each other’s throats for the past year, in a civil kind of way. We (violently) disagree on parenting, and why her son often displays such atrocious behavior like hitting and kicking. I also think she’s gotten terribly defensive and in general, we’re not quite good friends. In fact, if we weren’t blood, and that I have no other siblings and that neither of us talk to my father either, I’d have written her off long ago. I also worry about her son tossing a sippy cup or something at my baby’s head… no hard objects in the backseat.

In spite of all this, I agreed to a five-hour drive this weekend. The main reason is that while the spouse will be here, I’ll be away for the holidays and would like to see my mother before I go. I could drive up separately during the week, but I have a huge list of things to get done in the next month, from passports to pediatrician appointments and will need that time to get sorted. And maybe, just perhaps, being stuck in a car with my sister for 10 hours round-trip would help us come to an easier truce of some sort.

The spouse is highly doubtful of this, but has promised not to say “I told you so”. What a gem.

immortal balloons

I got the spouse this Mylar balloon when he was in the hospital and it came home with us. I tend to throw out balloons when they deflate, but this one is still going!

The same thing happened with the spouse’s birthday balloon. Kinda makes it less special when they last forever.

choose-your-own-fruit crumble

crumble topping:
1/3 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp cinnamon

fruit base:
1/4 cup of water or milk (optional)
1/2 tsp vanilla extract (optional)
1-2 cups chopped fruits of your choice (apples, strawberries, etc.)

Preheat oven to 350 deg. If using milk/water and vanilla, add to fruit and mix well. Spread fruit in the bottom of a baking dish. Mix crumble topping ingredients together and scatter evenly on top of fruit. Bake for approx. 30 minutes.

This is a great way to use up slightly old or over-ripe fruit. I can clear through the many ancient apples in the fruit bowl by making this at least once a week. Since it’s so easy and fast, I can often ask the spouse if he’d like crumble for dessert while we’re serving dinner, and have it ready by the time dessert rolls around. He likes it with a little creme fraiche on top, but it’s equally good with vanilla ice cream.