Mmm. It's pouring outside. We have the window open, and the occasional shuuush of late-night drivers going by punctuates the tapping of the rain. I love it. What is it about rain and writing? 

It reminds me of something I learned not all that long ago when I was walking one evening with Lala in Rockridge. It was that magic moment when lights come on inside houses but the curtains are still open, when you can see fathers coming home, kids racing around living rooms, mothers putting fresh-baked bread on tables (yes, because this is the way I was raised, my brain still sees the world this way although it decidedly is not this way in most cases). I love that moment, spying on that snapshot of families being together. 

Every once in a while when you're walking at that time of night, you'll notice a light shining, high above in a third story window. You can see the ceiling, and maybe the top of a painting, but from that angle you can't quite make out what else or who's in the room. 

In my head, there is always a writer at that window. I think there's always been a writer at that window for me, ever since I was a child, and I mentioned it that night to Lala. 

"You know," she said, "not everyone thinks there's a writer up there." 

"Really? No, of course they do." 

"Nope."

She's an artist, so I asked, "Do you think there's an artist there?" 

"Sometimes. Sometimes I don't think about it." 

This was something I had never considered. That window was a beacon to me. That was the dream. Someday I'd have a garret window, and I'd sit at it, writing late into the night. 

Then I realized I did have that garret window once. When I was about ten, we moved into a farm house on an old, overgrown Christmas tree farm in a small, coastal town. We had a barn, and a horse, and chickens (oh, I hated those chickens). I had the attic bedroom, a tiny cramped space with sloped walls and rafters that even at ten, I had to duck to avoid. It was tight and compact, and I loved it. The back of the chimney formed the back wall of my closet so on cold winter mornings, my clothes were pre-heated for me.

Even at that age, I sat at that window and stared out at the canyon late at night, and I felt what I should write. I attempted it, over and over again. "Once upon a time..." I'd get two or three pages in and I would fail to convey what I'd meant to, and I'd give up and get back in bed with a book, a real one, one that told the story to me the right way. 

But I tried again, over and over again. In a way, I'm still sitting there, even though I usually write in the cafe now, or in my car, or on my breaks at work. No garret window necessary. The writing gets done anyway. But I still long for that, to sit at a high window overlooking over a rainy street filled with pedestrian traffic. And maybe, just maybe, the people below would be wondering if up there behind the glass was a writer, or an artist, or a photographer, hoping for a window of their own, too.

Okay, this is awesome. I just found the IndieBound app! I put the app on my iPhone (it will work on other smartphones, too, as well as the tablets, iPad, etc.), then I went to the website for my favorite local bookstore (which at this point is Books Inc. but I have so many awesome local bookstores that it's hard to choose) and ordered a Google ebook (Journal of Best Practices, a memoir about marriage and Aspergers's). 

Then, on my phone (while on Books Inc's website), I downloaded the book, and it opened automatically in the IndieBound app. 

I don't read a lot on my iPhone, but many times I use it to read what I'm reading on my Kindle. Now that's over. I'm hereby vowing to read more on my iPhone when out and about, and I'm only going to read books I've downloaded from local stores. 

Confession: I still love my Kindle (and its intuitiveness -- I had to fight my way through the first purchase I just made, above, but it will be easier now that I know how to do it). But I can make a little, tiny difference this way. And we know this: tiny things add up to big things over time: words add up to a book, stitches add up to sweaters. Buy local more often than you do now, and create change in YOUR world. 

Thus endeth my soapbox. On tap today: writing (natch), and some accordion playing, I think! I'm gonna be playing around with Garage Band with my friend Camilla, who can be seen here singing with Female Trouble, Lala's band (Camilla is the piano player, La's on the far left). 

"I'm running out of tissues and you're boring me to tears." (Worth watching past the minute mark, when they start ROCKIN'. As they are wont to do.)

First: the winner of Extra Yarn is Samantha E. Woot! Congratulations!

[Edited to add: Mac will be SIGNING Extra Yarn at Copperfields in Petaluma (and they'll be yarn bombing the store, contact them if you want to help) on March 4th at 2pm. You should totally go if you have a chance.]

Now I want to list a few things that I've been loving lately that you might like too. Some are free, some aren't, and all are things I think are worth it, whatever the cost is.

1. Sanebox.

Casey of Ravelry first turned me on to this. It's a program that works on any email platform, and it makes your inbox sane. And seriously, that's exactly what it does.

This is what my inbox looks like right now. It's hard to see, but I have nothing in my inbox, 1 in SaneLater and 1 in SaneNews. (Often I have 50+ in each, it just so happens I just cleared both.)

See that? It creates labels (for Gmail -- I think it does other things appropriate for other clients) ALL ON ITS OWN. I don't know how it knows that it should stuff all my Twitter and Flickr and yarn store sales into SaneLater, but it does know that. All my newsletters go automagically into the SaneNews label. And all the good stuff? The important stuff? From friends, family, readers, editors, my agent, and my bank (oh-so-important)? They go into my inbox, where I can see them without looking around the clutter.

If it messes up, you can train it easily: just drag and drop the email into the right folder, and it won't make the same mistake twice. You don't have to learn the system -- it's intuitive, which is somthing they tout, and something that I've found to be true.

So I easily keep on top of my inbox, and once every other day or so, I flip through my Later and my News labels to make sure I haven't missed anything (usually I delete everything in there, but I want to look at them, at least briefly).

Bonus: Best thing? You can defer email, send it away, giving it a time to land BACK in your email inbox (Tuesday at 1pm, say) and get it OUT of your inbox. You don't have to remember to do whatever it is you have to do -- it just lands. We have dinner reservations tonight, and instead of leaving the email sitting in my box all day, I set it to re-land at 6pm tonight so at that point I can look up driving directions and delete it.

Cost: 4.95/month, FREE trial for 30 days. I just bought two years' worth -- that's how much I never want to be without this thing. (I think this is what Gmail was going for with its Priority sorting thing that I thought was such a ugly mess.) Sanebox = Highly Recommended.

 

2. Shoeboxed.

I've filed my taxes last week, they're all done and I can relax. However, pulling together all my receipts from last year was HORRIBLE. Every year, I vow I'll stay on top of them, and every year in January, I pull out my box of receipts that look like this:

Did you know that New York taxi cab receipts are almost unreadable after only a few months of being stored in this manner? I know! I was surprised, too!

With Shoeboxed, you can email yourself all those receipts you get in email (for example, I just send the receipt for my purchase of Sanebox to them), and they file a pdf image of it for you while stripping and logging the information. It already knew that I'd place that charge in my Computer/Internet category, it knows how I paid, and on what date.

If I get a paper receipt, I use the app on my iPhone to take a picture of it and it does the same thing, almost instantly. So, theoretically, by the time I get home from a business trip, I could have all my receipts logged already. I LOVE THIS.

It's not cheap, at 9.99/month, but for me, Shoeboxed is going to be worth it.

(Oh, and to celebrate the fact that we didn't owe money, I bought a pair of Fluevogs: Zazas)

Love.

 

3. Remember the Milk

I love this reminder app because I can have it loaded in my email, on my home screen or on my phone. I put everything into it, even things like Trash Out every Sunday. Every day it emails you with what you need to do that day, and it's so SATISFYING to cross things off.

Cost: I think they have a free version? But I got the Pro account, $25/year.

 

4. IAlertU

I just installed this, but I love the idea of it. It's a car alarm for your computer. I'm SO often at the cafe, and I stay there for long periods of time, and I drink a lot of coffee. Naturally, I gotta pee. Usually I ask someone to watch my computer for me (and I know most of the people sitting around me, at least by sight). Even though I do it, it still makes me nervous and I'm always relieved when it's still there when I come out.

IAlertU makes a squealing sound if your computer is moved or unplugged. You can set it so that it doesn't turn off even if the computer is closed. Oh, and it snaps a picture of the person who moved the computer and emails it to your phone!

I see the problem here, of course. I'll be in the bathroom and some kid will hit the table, setting it off, and then I'll be that jackass with the too-sensitive car alarm. But oh, well. (And I know a thief will grab and run and won't care that much, but at least people will notice. And hell, some thieves do that while you're sitting at the table with it, so you can't worry all the time, right?)

Cost: Free!

 

5. Prey Project

If the thief DOES get away with my computer, I'll get HIM. Using it, you can find where your computer is, see who's using it (and take pictures of them using the camera!), lock your info, take screenshots of their sessions (computers have been retrieved when the thieves log into their Facebook or email accounts). The recovery stories are fun on their site, and this story is fun, too.  Nosepicking thieves!

Cost: Free to install, $5/month if you need to activate it to find your computer.

 

So there you have it. My five favorite new computer finds. But really? My two all-time favorites remain Write Or Die ("putting the prod in productivity") and Mac Freedom (which removes me from the internet entirely for any length of time), without which I would get no writing done, ever. Lately I've been going in for 15 minute sessions, much shorter than I normally do, with a goal of 250 words. This is so easy I always blow past 250, get to 350 or so and realize it's not far to 500. Do this four times, 2000 words. It's like magic. I love tricks like this. (Both free.)

Anything else I need to have?

ALERT! This is important! There is a new kid's book in town, and it's AWESOME.

Extra Yarn

What happens when a little girl find a box of yarn THAT IS ALWAYS FULL?

Yeah, you want to know, right? It's pretty great. You'll love it.

And I have one to give away! Just leave me a comment below to be entered. (You know I never add commenters to my mailing list, right? That you have to do for yourself, up there in the upper right. But I do give presents from that list from time to time, too. Just sayin'.)

Because the author also lives in Oakland, I was able to drive to his house and knock on his front door until he answered (I knocked a really long time), and then, while he glared at me from his handknitted bathrobe, I asked him a few questions.*

1. First of all, where do I get a box that holds an unending supply of yarn? (No, really. WHERE?)

Oh that's easy. They're usually out in the field, just to the right of the old fence by the house with the barrel out front.

2. Do you knit?

No, but I did darn this sweater!

Interviewer's note: Nice job!

I probably should have put 20 Hipstamatic filters on that shot to make it feel cozier. I'm quite proud of my work, but to your readers that picture probably looks like one of those horrific botched plastic-surgery photos you see on gossip blogs.

3. Now that you're a New York Times bestselling author, will you take me up in your private plane?

Sure, here it is:



4. OAKLAND REPRESENT. What's your favorite thing in Oakland? (Interviewer's note: Mine is Mountain View Cemetery. No, it's not creepy! I swear! It's gorgeous! A great place to walk dogs or steal character names.)

That's a good graveyard. And it's close to Fenton's, for when all that death makes you feel like an ice cream. I think my favorite spot in Oakland is the Paramount Theater. It's a spectacular art-deco movie palace, and on certain Fridays they show classic films. Five dollars gets you an old picture, newsreel, Warner Brothers cartoon, Coming Attractions that may or may not come to the theater, and, of course, Dec-O-Win, a raffle presented by gentlemen in tuxedoes and ladies in evening gowns. My life dream is to win that raffle. I even tried bribing the staff by paying fifty bucks for a box of Red Vines. It didn't work. Those people have a lot of integrity.

 

So, thanks, Mac! And readers: leave a comment to be entered to win (I'll draw on Sunday morning) or just go buy the book at your favorite bookseller. You won't be disappointed.

* This is not technically true. But he does live in Oakland. Or at least he says he does. (What if he said that to all the reviewers? Yeah, I live in Tulsa/Peoria/Brooklyn. That would totally WORK.)

Hello, my name is Rachael, and I'm addicted to knitting lace.

I always swore it would never happen. I am NOT that knitter. I can't see the order in the stitches (like I can with cables -- I can knit cables underwater in the dark. Though, really, I don't like to do it that way).

But it did. I blame Cassie and Romi the most. Enablers, both of them, of the highest order. Cassie taught me that stitch markers are your friend (tiny rubber bands! You can get them on the hair product aisle, 300 count, like four bucks. They're awesome) and Romi taught me that lace can be nothing short of entrancing (her designs are magical).

This is the Fountain Pen shawl. When I saw the name, I HAD to knit it, right? (I'm still one of those writers who loves her fountain pens, pretentious as they may seem. I just love the angle they make on the page.)

You can see why it's called that here: see the shape of the nib?

And in the nib's breather hole is a nupp. (That's just a fun sentence to write.)

I, unlike many knitters, like nupps. But I'm a loose knitter, so that makes everything easier (if you know what I mean, BA-DUM-BUM).

Ravelry link here. Yarn: Holiday Yarns Skinny Ewe, one skein, on US5.

I am seriously looking forward to wearing this in Italy.

No, really, let's. I've been meaning to get to the post for a long time. In fact, sometimes when I can't sleep, I lie in bed and think about cleaning products, and I think, I've got to tell the blog this! They'll love it! And then I realize that normal people sleep when they're in bed; they don't fantasize about scrubbing the tub.

Back when Harriet (RIP, best dog in the world) was, shall we say, on the somewhat graceless but cute nonetheless slide downhill, she became incontinent. Well, it wasn't as much incontinent as she made very clear decisions that yes, she had to pee, so that must mean she was outside! Let's pee outside in the living room! Doggie woot! It was fun for her, I think. Not so much for us, but it was one of those things you work around. You know. Love is love, and pee isn't a very big deal.

But it still needs to be cleaned up. (Pictured: Harriet in the living room.)

We don't have much carpet, only in the bedrooms, so during the better part of every day she was on either tile or hardwood (thank god). I was like most people, and had always loved my paper towels even though I knew they were dead trees. But when you suddenly transition to using SO many paper towels (seriously, a roll a day some days), and going through bottles and bottles of Nature's Miracle and 409, it starts to take a moral toll on your faintly green soul.

So I poked around on the internet and found an idea as old as the hills: Towels.

Towels? Hell yes, we had tons of them, and they were beaters already. Somehow, though, it grossed me out. I was used to cleaning messes and then throwing the whole mess in the trash.

Turned out it was awesome. And MILES easier. A large puddle takes lots of paper towels, but just one real towel.

I was on to something. Surely there had to be something cheaper and better than buying bottles of 409 all the time.

I'm pleased to tell you that I found and still use THE PERFECT RECIPE for household cleaner. It cleans everything, hardwood, tile, counters, bathrooms, and even mirrors. Even the greasy stove! The only thing you might find a little unpleasant about it at first is the smell of vinegar, but that dissipates to nothing as it dries (really!) and now, years later, I find that faint smell of vinegar to mean The House Is Clean.

My favorite cleaning things.

Rachael's Household Clean It Up Recipe

1. Get a great spray bottle. This is harder than it sounds! Know the best place to look? Your local nursery or the plant section of your hardware store. The plant spray bottles are built to last -- don't ask me why.

2. Fill the bottle 1/3 of the way with white vinegar. I get mine at our local CVS in the gallon size.

3. Add a good dollop (about a tablespoon, if I were to measure it, which I don't) of Dr. Bronner's liquid castille soap in your favorite flavor (I like lavender, but Trader Joe's only carried the big size in peppermint, which is a nice cheery clean scent). It will go cloudy when it hits the vinegar -- don't worry, it should.

4. (Optional) Add a few drops of tea tree oil. I like it for its disinfectant qualities, and I like the smell, but your taste may vary.

5. Fill the rest of the bottle up with water, and Bob's your clean uncle.

 

What I like about this stuff:

You can spray it on everything, everywhere, and not worry about a thing. Spray the table and hit the fruit bowl lightly on accident? Who cares?

And this: It flipping WORKS. It gets everything soooo clean and shiny. I use rags for cleaning now, big ones for floors and little ones for counters (and knitted dishrags for dishes! Nothing better!). I love taking a clean rag and making it dirty and then throwing it in the washer (it strikes me that this cleaning method wouldn't work that well if you had to throw the dirty things into a clothes basket if you don't have in-house laundry and I'm sorry about that). And then, when you do your regular laundry, just throw it on top and wash it all together (unless you've got seriously grungy greasy rags, which deserve a wash on their own).

Other Favorite Cleaning Tricks

Bathtub: Oh, my gosh, did I come up with a good recipe for this. This is cobbled together out of things I've found on the internet over the years, refined by something I read recently on Crunchy Betty's site (if you enjoy this kind of thing, hop over there and lose a few wonderful hours).

This is great for a grimy tub. I hate our bathtub (it's rusted on the bottom and is an awkward shape so I tend to ignore it until I can't live with the grime anymore).

1. Fill tub with the hottest water you can run. Add a pot of boiling water for extra oomph. Add a cup (or two!) of white vinegar.

2. Let it sit for a while, until the water is cool enough again for you to pull the plug (but still warm).

3. While tub drains, mix together: 1/2 cup of baking soda, one large squirt of Dr. Bronner's liquid soap, a little tea tree oil, and enough water to make a good thick paste.

4. Use a rag or your favorite plastic scrubby (I have one a friend knitted me out of plastic twine that I LOVE), and liberally apply the paste. Swirl, and BAM. That grime is lifted away. It's awesome. (Obviously, check somewhere to make sure this doesn't ruin your tub's coating. It makes mine shiny and clean again, but I don't worry about ruining mine very much.)

Floors: I recently got one of those steam machines (a Monster -- that thing cleans HOT) and I love it. But for a quick floor clean? Nothing beats walking around, spraying the heck out of your Clean It Up bottle, followed up by standing on a large towel and dancing around, using the weight of your body to clean. Fast! Easy! Remarkably satisfying! Towel gets dirty? Throw it in the washer and start with another one!

(There is something in me that thinks this is, somehow, cheating, and that I should be ashamed of it. I'm not sure why. A cleaning cheat that works can't be wrong, and I'm proud to share.)

 Takeaway:

Using fabric instead of paper is the BOMB. Making your own cleaning products is dead easy, and dead cheap. And cleaning is, truly, satisfying.

I love rain so much. I'm one of those people who would be actually, truly happy in Seattle. I wouldn't mind only seeing the sun every once in a while. Bright sun and blue skies make my sensitive eyes hurt, anyway. And it's not like I'm super outdoorsy (surprise!). Give me a chair by the window and my computer or a notebook (and best of all worlds, a cup of coffee thick with cream), and I'm a happy girl.

I'm going into a three day weekend (my schedule is never like the rest of the world's) and I'm hoping the rain keeps up. I dislike driving in the rain, because Californians believe that either their cars will float away on any puddle bigger than three inches across and slow to six miles per hour on the freeway or they think that rain doesn't matter and go their normal ninety. But everything else? Sitting on the couch? Lying in bed? Lovely. Oh, and the best? Sitting in the cafe, writing, watching people come and go, shaking off their hoods and umbrellas, greeting friends and laughing.

So today, I wish for the sound of rain to accompany my writing (and hopefully, my nap). There will be cats for laps, and blankets for shoulders, and oh, it makes me happy just thinking about it.     

Oooh, I've been reading a lot lately. Isn't it odd how urges take us over for certain periods of time? For weeks, I'll crave new music, and I'll buy and download everything I can get my hands on. I'll binge on music blogs, throwing songs into my iTunes as fast as it can gobble them. Or I'll spend weeks dreaming about lace, fantasizing about watching the patterns grow (who knew THAT would ever happen? Sheesh). Or I'll spin and knit and spin and knit until I can clothe the whole household, right down to tiny Miss Idaho.

I'm always reading, but lately I've been tearing through books like the Great Book Famine is coming. (It's not, by the way. There is SO much good stuff out there that even that whole pesky Mayan apocalypse thing won't get in the way.) I like to tell you about the books I LOVE (not the ones I merely like -- who has the time for that?), so here you go.

1. A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L'Engle. Of course, I read this approximately one billionty times when I was a kid (I read all of them, over and over again. I wrote a fan letter to ML'E, and SHE WROTE BACK.) But I reread this because I wanted to read the second book on this list and everyone said to brush up on Wrinkle before I did. And I'm so glad I did. It was wonderful, falling back into the book, and I was Meg, all over again.

2. When You Reach Me, Rebecca Stead. This is the story of a girl finding out what friendship means while figuring out the very nature of time (I thought figuring out the time between bells at high school was bad enough). The novel repeatedly references A Wrinkle In Time -- the main character loves the book as much as I did when I was her age, and there was something so endearing about that, the way her book was tattered as much as mine was. I'm not surprised this won the Newberry in 2010. (How lovely that must be, to follow in L'Engle's footsteps like that. Can you imagine? Loving a book that much, and being able to honor it that way? Oh, it gives me goosebumps.)  Also, it was fun reading a book set when I was growing up -- it was so firmly grounded in that time period I could almost smell the plastic on the unicorn decals.

3. Learning to Swim, Sara J. Henry. I'm not quite finished with this, but I'm adoring it. Premise (without spoilers -- this all happens within the first few pages): The main character witnesses a little boy tossed off the end of a ferry.
She swims to save him, and then tries to figure out who would throw away a child. Henry writes so well, and I'm almost done and I haven't yet figured out how it will end. Delicious.

(Thanks to all of you who suggested books HERE, and feel free to leave me more suggestions for your most recent favorite.)

* Amazon links for convenience -- feel free to email your local indie bookstore, though! They'll even mail them to you, just like Amazon does!

Congratulations to the winner of Sweet Shawlettes, LindaW! I've emailed you, letting you know. Thanks, all, for playing along! (By the way, if you leave a comment I don't automatically sign you up for my mailing list. That would be cheeky. If you DO want to be on my ever so sporadic mailing list (from which I do draw random winners or random things from time to time) the link is there to the right.)

And now I'm off to have more wicked fun. The amazing Seton Hill University in Pennsylvania brought me, Juliet Blackwell, and Sophie Littlefield out to talk to their graduate students in their MFA program (they have a wonderful one, Writing Popular Fiction). We spoke to them about revision (oh, I could wax eloquent for DAYS about revision) and gender bias in publishing (which made for a fascinating conversation even if I stuttered a bit. I've never been on a panel and seen so many raised, waving, eager hands).

Here we are on the dais, about to try to sound smart.

I look tall! I'm not, but I enjoy the illusion. (Also, new haircut! You like?)

Today we're still in Greensburg. We're actually all going to get some writing done, and go to an alumni lunch and take our lovely hostess Nicole Peeler out to dinner. I feel lucky and grateful and sometimes completely gobsmacked that I get to hang out with friends like these and talk about what I love to do.

(I have to tell you one thing--there was a darling woman there, Symantha, and I recognized her. It turned out that I'd met her at Stitches West two years ago, before my first book came out. She'd been so excited to see the book flier I'd been passing out then, and it turns out I was the first real author she'd ever met. It convinced her that authors didn't live in some fancy castle in another world, and that she could try to be one, and it's part of the reason SHE is now in the program at Seton Hill. That thrilled me to my handknit-clad toes.)

So we'll write today, and maybe I'll knit (I'm LOVING the Fountain Pen shawl -- how had I not seen this one before?) and be with friends, and I'm happy.

I'm happy to be hosting Jean Moss today who is talking about her new beautiful book, Sweet Shawlettes. Since I'm all about spinning right now, and what better to use handspun for but shawls, I was honored to get a preview copy (it's gorgeous) and the chance to ask her a few questions.

Please leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of the book! I'll draw a random winner on Monday.

1.    What made you interested in writing this particular book?

The book came to me out of the blue when Erica Sanders-Foege, then a senior editor at The Taunton Press, rang to ask if I would consider doing it. The working title was Sweet Shawlettes, but Erica  assured me I could change it if I didn't like it.  However, for me the title had a certain broad brush appeal – whimsical, feminine,  could even be ironic - or it might have been that I'm just addicted to alliteration, but knowing how difficult it is to come up with decent book titles, I quickly applied the if it's not broken, don't fix it principle.  

I agreed to submit a synopsis and by the time I'd finished it I was completely hooked on the idea.  Previously most of my books have concentrated mainly on sweaters, and this gave me the opportunity to explore a totally different form.  Shawls, capes, cowls, furbelows or anything that can be worn around the neck was the brief and I was thrilled to explore as many ways of interpreting it as I could. 

I was given complete control over yarns, stitches, colours, styles, techniques - something I really value.  I was kept in the loop about each process of the book's production, consulted on the book's design and to my utmost surprise and great relief the editors at Taunton actually listened.  In a previous hardcover book that shall be nameless (I should add with a different publisher), in the same situation I was treated like a jobbing author and ended up with a book I hated, where the images reflected completely different sweaters to the ones I'd designed.  

I'm intrigued by the process of book-making from beginning to end – the shoot is the icing on the cake when you see your designs come alive.  With my two previous books, Wandering Spirits and In The Mood, I was given the freedom to deliver the completed print-ready book on disk, which I now admit could have been an absolute disaster!  However, a steep learning curve ensued and ultimately it was such an exhilarating and satisfying experience. Sweet Shawlettes was photographed in Connecticut, so for various reasons, not the least of which being that I live in the UK, it wasn't possible  for me to be there.  Consequently I was really nervous about the pictures and was mega-relieved when I saw Alexandra Grablewski's strong and beautiful images.  

I'm so glad I decided to write the book now.  It took me on an interesting journey exploring the construction, techniques, yarns and the history of neck wraps and I'll always be grateful to Taunton for offering me this opportunity.

2.    What's your favorite thing to knit when you're not working on knitting?

Not surprisingly I do enjoy making shawls.  Everyone in my family received one this Xmas – one size fits all, so no sweat about fitting. Recently there's been a baby boom in our family, so I've been doing a lot of tiny sweaters which have a built in feel good factor as you just know you're going to finish the project before something else grabs your attention – good for limiting the UFOs.  Oh and also I've knit my favourite shadow knit baby blanket about four times this year.

3.    What was your favorite part of pulling this book together?

Definitely the adrenalin rush that you get when there's a blank sheet in front of you and it's uncharted territory and you can either get totally paralysed or take the plunge.  It often takes me some time to get past the paralysis stage, but this is what I call the cooking time when the ideas are crystallising and I need displacement activities. I chop things down in the garden, make lots of food, play my guitar, or even clean the house, though that would only happen if I'd done everything else first! Sometimes I even dream about designs and have been known to get up in the middle of the night and rush upstairs to my office to dash off a quick sketch.  When I eventually do dive in, the first thing I do is to map out the book in detail, making lists of the types of designs, yarn, colours,  techniques, stitches, moods etc and then set about placing them in the relevant chapters, with the aim of getting an overall balance.  I then set about the swatching, which is always exciting as you can never tell how a yarn will behave with a particular stitch pattern until you knit it and you can usually count on some surprises.  

One of Britain's leading knitwear designers, Jean Moss's innovative combinations of texture, colour and styling have been widely influential over the years. A self-taught knitter, she has been producing her own unique collections of handknits for more than twenty years, as well as designing for Rowan Yarns and many international fashion houses such as Ralph Lauren, Laura Ashley and Benetton. She teaches in the UK and Europe and is a regular visitor to the US.

Her new book Sweet Shawlettes is available at your local independent bookstore or from retailers like Amazon, Chapters, or directly from Taunton Press. The project gallery can be seen here.

This has been the year of . . . treading water. You know those years? Those years in which you paddle and stay afloat and pull some people up on your raft and have a wee, damp party with the champagne you stole from a passing cruise ship? A good, busy year, but an exhausting one sometimes. I'm happy it came, and just as happy to usher in a new one.

I like to sum up my years here on Ye Old Blogge, so here's 2011:

January:

We went to Hawaii for three days.

The view from our room.

You'd think going anywhere to relax for three days (not including travel time) wouldn't really work, but we did it SO well. The first day, we did nothing. The second day, we went snorkeling (the one thing Lala really wanted to do) which was great and we SWAM WITH A TURTLE. And then, to recuperate from the excitement of that and the bomb karaoke we found, we did nothing on the third day. I even beat a migraine while we were there, which I rarely do. It was wonderful, and just what we needed.

This, I think, was my favorite shot, because while lying on my back on the beach, this is what I saw when I opened my eyes.

Also in January, I came up with Four Rules for Creativity. Click there for the expanded version, and here are the Cliff's Notes:

1. Pick something already. Make a choice about what you're going to create. Don't worry about it being the wrong thing, because once you're DONE with this project, you can choose something else to do next.

2. Give yourself permission to navel-gaze. Being an artist is, by its very nature, somewhat narcissistic. Accept that and make something.

3. Give yourself permission to suck. And I mean, permission to REALLY suck. If it's the worst thing you ever made, sit back and say DAMN, that sucks. Then make it (or the next one) a little better. Fail some.

4. No excuses. If you want to write, then do it. Don't say you want to. (Everyone says that. You're not everyone. Are you?) If you want to draw, draw. If you want to play your ukulele until four in the morning, then do it with conviction. DO IT.

 

February:

I learned to weave. DAMN IT. (Nancy L, I haven't forgotten your scarf! It will happen! I promise!)

I didn't want to learn. I didn't want to go that far down the crazy train's line (really, isn't the last stop just getting sheep?). But I did. And I love it.

I made up the easiest spicy chicken soup for the crock pot, and I've made it many times since.

Also, my short story, "Honeymooning," came out.

 

March:

How to Knit a Heart Back Home came out! I wrote a little song for it.

Lala's parents took us to Disneyworld which was awesome. I was expecting it to be lowercase fun. But no, it was uppercase F.U.N. The weather in March in Florida is perfect (I'd only been to Orlando once before, in July, and the heat was oppressively awful, so this was a nice surprise.)

The Neph, first time in a pool.

At Hogwarts!

In Big News, I fell head over heels in love with an accordion. This was also very unexpected. I'm happy to report I'm still in love. Also, still not very good at it, but BOY do I adore it. I hear the accordion is the new knitting which was once the new black, so there's still time to hop on this trend, people. Do it!

 

April:

Romantic Times was in LA. I went and gave workshops and signed books and hung out with C.A.P.:

The PensFatales (four of them at least) were there, too, and there are tales still told of us in some dive bars down there.

I felted two cashmere shawls while washing a load of laundry. That was AWESOME.

I know you feel my pain.

KnittedWit brought out the Cypress Hollow Yarn named for the characters in the books. I love this stuff, and she is DARLING. 

 

May:

I switched to a standing desk! Okay, I didn't so much switch as built one for my office. I got a lot of work done at it, too. I type faster when standing, I wrote much of a first draft of a novel there. At the day job, too, I stood more often (since our desks can be raised there).

Then I kind of stopped. At the job, I still stand at least once a day for a while, but at home? Nah. Not so much. (Especially since I work so often at the cafe now. There is, however, a standing coffee bar there, and I could work there -- I've seen people do it, and I did it once. It was kind of weird.) But yeah, I've been bad about it. It occurs to me that perhaps I am just sedentary. Or perhaps I am just lazy. That's more likely, of course.

Also in May, I shared my Moleskine hack.

And as a bonus, I'll share my NEW Moleskine hack. Have you seen those tiny notebooks they make? They're just larger than a credit card, and often when I go out, I leave my purse at home. I stash my ID and debit card and one of those little notebooks in my back pocket (with my beloved tiny Fisher Space Pen in my front pocket). After a few times of pulling out the notebook and having my ID hit the floor, I came up with this little hack:

Isn't that neat? I used duct tape, and made a lined pocket to hold just the essentials. Now I can catch words wherever they find me. It ain't the most attractive solution, but I *am* very fond of duct tape, so this pleases me.

 

June:

In more Moleskine news, I upgraded to a computer that could fit into one:

That was the month we also discovered Lois the Pie Queen (which I've been to at least seven times since) for the best pie in the Bay Area (and the best chicken and waffles, in my book).

 

July:

I went to New York on business. I went to the HarperCollins party at the Central Park Boathouse. I felt kind of stunned to think that I was really doing it. I was really a writer.

I also set my agent's apartment on fire. You know. Like you do.

Also in July, I started my new day job, still doing the same thing, 911 fire/medical, at a new-to-me smaller agency. I'm glad I made the move. It's been good for me, even though it's always completely nerve-wracking to start a new job.

Also, I thought about the way we tangle ourselves up, in life, and in writing. And sometimes in jasmine vines.

 

August:

Big things! My memoir, A Life in Stitches came out! So did my first audio-book (all three Cypress Hollow novels are now available, didja know that?).  

I started running again, and 20 minutes later, stopped as I fell off a sidewalk and sprained my ankle.

I read The Homecoming of Samuel Lake, which I hereby declare My Favorite Book of 2011.

 

September:

Your cat Digit got his first chin infection. It's continued, off and on, since then, waxing and waning. I take him in every time he gets one, and they treat it, but there's not much else we can do, the vet says. It makes him very grumpy (Digit, not the vet). I mean, it makes him even grumpier than normal. Imagine THAT. Clementine lives in terror.

I did a bunch of readings. Oh, my, I'm glad that's over. I love being AT the readings, but getting there? I get easily overwhelmed with worry about them.

We went to Vegas! Just for a weekend, and BOY was it fun.

We stayed at the Venetian, because, well, you know. I love Venice, even the fake kind.

We had a party, and I played the accordion in my new dress. There isn't much happy that can compare to that.

 

October:

Wishes & Stitches came out! (For those of you playing at home, yes, I had three books come out this year. And nope, I'm still not over the excitement.) 

My pop got married to Lola! It was a gorgeous backyard luau, a lovely night for a lovely occasion.

And I did Project 333! Hey, I just realized tomorrow I get to go through my Love Box where I stored the few clothes I didn't keep in my Project List or give away. In the project, you wear 33 items for 3 months. I didn't include hand-knits, natch. It was easy and awesome, and it's led me to realize a couple of things: I need a couple more nice black V-neck shirts and a dress or two with sleeves (all mine are sleeveless, something I'd never noticed before). I can't wait to go though my closet and give away everything I didn't wear out of those 33 things, because they're in there. Isn't that wild? Also this: I felt better dressed during these last three months than I have in years, because I loved everything I wore.

 

November:

I did NaNoWriMo, the Rebel Remix, in which I edited 100,000 words. It worked!  This was Chris Baty's last year as its leader, so I really wanted to participate. Grateful that I did, and grateful to Our Fairygodmother for sending us to the Night of Writing Dangerously again. Thank you!

We participated in the General Strike, which was amazing. Even better, we had a knit-in at Occupy Oakland.  

I finally found my knitting mojo, but I fell for the Photo Fallacy. Again.  

I put together some of my ideas of How to Revise Your Novel. I played my accordion and my uke, sometimes until the wee hours of the morning. I love doing that. I can lose myself in music in a way I can't in writing. It's a different kind of high.  

 

December:

A Life in Stitches came out in Australia and New Zealand! (There's quite a bit in the memoir about my New Zealander mother, so I'm very, very proud that this happened. Thanks, you lovely new readers.)

I fell in love with the Bed of Nails pillow, which has taken away my neck and shoulder pain, period. (It doesn't work for the hormonal migraines, I'm sad to say, but for the headaches that start from neck pain? Yes.)

I went indoor skydiving. IT WAS SO MUCH DAMN FUN.

At iFly in Union City.

(And if I may brag for a moment, I was good at it. I totally was. Lala was watching my DVD of it, and she didn't realize she was looking at me and said, "Hey, she's good!" And no, I'm never jumping out of a plane on purpose. This was enough to satisfy me.)

I spun a lot (on my new WooLee Winder, which is EVEN BETTER THAN I EVER THOUGHT IT WOULD BE). I knitted a lot. I dreamed about Venice, and finally planned a trip for myself next March.

2012 is barreling in. My Australian and New Zealand readers are already there, and I haven't heard that they don't like it, so I'm willing to step forward.

Thank you, again, for being with me this year. It's meant the world.

For you, I wish this: That you will find your happiness and hold on tight. That you will take chances and make mistakes and find unexpected pockets of joy. That you will love and be loved. What could be better?

So I'm going back to Venice. It's been what, three or four years now? [Runs to look at the blog.] Oh, my god, it's been five years. No WONDER I've been dreaming about it so much. I always dream about Venice, but it's usually along the lines of two or three times a year. Lately it's been almost weekly. I'm always trying to GET there, but something is holding me back -- I'm late for the plane or I don't have my passport, and I can see the plane, sparkling there, ready to take me, and I can't get on. Or worse, I'm in a city full of cars (Mestre?) just outside Venice and I can't find a boat that will take me. Only about once a year do I actually get to Venice in my dreams, but oh, it's lovely when I do.

I was just thinking about the time I stole a boat in Venice, about eight years ago. Okay, okay, I only kind of lied my way into borrowing it. IT WAS SO AWESOME. Here's the story (from the blog back in MyGlassHouse days):

Today!

First: I decided to release the Venetian mystery I had
been reading, a la bookcrossing.com, at Harry's Bar. I
had never been there, except for popping my head in
once or twice, and I wanted a Bellini. I happened to
arrive when it wasn't that busy, so I ordered a
Bellini and a small sandwich. What was that? Oh,
that'll be fine. Whoops. What I got was a
mayo/egg/anchovy sandwich. I ate it, though.

And I released the book, even though the very
attentive maitre'd chased me out, "Prego, signorina!"
Oh, that's not mine, but thank you! And I ran.

I stopped to breathe my anchovy
breath at a motor launch. I noticed it was the launch
for the Hotel Cipiriani, the exclusive resort across
the lagoon. This is when I got the idea.

I thought for a while. Then.

I walked out on the dock and used the phone that was
thoughtfully connected there to order the boat. Yep.
Eee!

When the gleaming boat arrived, driven by the gleaming
Lovely Man, I had my Italian all planned out. "What
time is it? Have you seen my friend? Small, beautiful?
We were supposed to meet an hour ago at the
restaurant."

Number one: I didn't know if the hotel even HAD a
restaurant, but I figured it was a good guess.

Number two: The driver had no English, and my Italian
varies, and today was an off day. I might have
actually been saying, "What time is it? Have you seen
my pickle? Beer, green? We were supposed to marry
yesterday on a ski."

But he seemed to understand, no, he had not seen my
friend dee ann, and he held his hand out to help me in
the boat. Which he then drove across the lagoon, ME
HIS ONLY PASSENGER. Me, in this limo of a boat. I sat
inside. I stood in the back. I stood in the middle. I
finally stood in the front with the Lovely Man who
obligingly stopped in the middle of the choppy water,
in the sun, to take a picture of me. Grinning me. I
was giddy.

Once he helped me out of the boat, I kinda had to keep
up the ruse, since he just sat in the boat and watched
me inside. I swept in, "Is my friend dee ann here? I'm
late, and she had to leave for Greece...." As far as I
know, dee ann is either in San Diego or headed up the
coast in a fast car, but she ain't in Italy (more's
the pity). But Perfectly Groomed Eyebrows merely
smiled, "We haven't seen your friend, madame. Did she
have a reservation?"

For it was a room about the size of my living room,
full of RICH Italians wearing fur and dripping
diamonds.

"Reservations? No, we don't do reservations. I'll just
wait here, if I might? A Bellini?" I don't know where
the words came from, I swear.

"Sadly, we only use fresh juice here, madame. Would
you like fresh-squeezed raspberry juice and prosecco
instead, while you wait?"

Oh, I guessed that would be all right. By the time I
drank my drink (you DON'T want to know what that one
cost) and thanked my genial host and washed my hands
in the gorgeous bathroom (and stole some of the teeny
guest soaps shaped like hearts, don't tell), I was
genuinely getting miffed that dee ann hadn't arrived.

I scare myself sometimes. Right now Mom is saying,
"Cheeky girl." But she would have been the first on
the boat, don't let her fool you.

So on Christmas Eve, Lala and I sat down to open our presents from each other. I gave her a nice little stack, and waited in anticipation for my prezzies.

She put one in front of me.

She opened some, and yay! She liked what I got her! I opened mine -- it was a cute sheep tee-shirt (this one, in fact). I loved it! Awesome!

But then she said, "I'm really sorry but I don't have anything else for you."

I goggled.

"I mean, I ordered you something but it didn't make it to the house."

Now, I've been working on not being passive aggressive. It's a bad, ugly trait, and I hate it when I get that way. So I took a deep breath and said, "Oh. I really like this shirt! But I have to admit, I'm disappointed. I planned your Christmas presents early, and I've been working on things for a while, and while I appreciate you've been busy, I have to let you know that my feelings are hurt."

She took it well. "Yes," she said. "I can understand that."

Fast forward to her brother's house. Our nephew Isaac was opening presents (okay, he opened one present, a book, and didn't have any interest in opening anything else. He loved the book). Lala gave me a box. Oops. I started to think that maybe I'd been played but then I opened the box, and I KNEW I'd been played. She totally shocked me and got me something I've never been able to justify purchasing for myself. 

A WOOLEE WINDER for my Ashford Joy. Dude! 

Okay, for those not in the know, attaching a Woolee Winder to your spinning wheel is like moving from a 1962 Fiat to a 2011 Lamborghini. The Fiat you have to futz with every few feet. You have to lift the hood. Add coolant every ten miles. Adjust the take-up, using hooks:

Whereas the Woolee Winder Lamborghini? It takes up BY ITSELF. We're talking SPEED, baby. I'm so excited about it I'm blogging before I use it, because I love to prolong anticipation. (Seriously, I cleaned the house before sitting down to write this blog.)

"I had it mailed here," she said. "Not to our house. You know all those studies I was doing? I used that money."

I was overcome. She did good.

Then I gave her her other present (and Isaac's too), so at least I didn't feel too shabby:

Hee. (It's the Mangyle pattern for her, and I just kind of made up his as I went along.)

And NOW I'm off to spin. I'm a little nervous! But I love to drive fast, so BRING IT.

I made a shawl! I haven't blocked it, and boy, it needs it, but I thought I'd show it to you now, since I think it's super cute when it's bouncy and flouncy like this:

Ravelry link here (I can't seem to find a non-Rav link for the pattern, so if you're not part of Ravelry, you should join!)

It took approximately forever to bind off (but in typical Rachael fashion, I put it away months ago, exHOSSted by it, and when I picked it up last week, I was HALF WAY THROUGH the bind off. Who does that? And then forgets about it? Sheesh).

It's out of Regia sock yarn, and I'm not even sure what kind (but I'll look it up).

Do you think that only knitters like shawls like this? I mean, really, think about it. It was pointed out to me that the only people below the age of 80 wearing shawls are knitters. Does that make us naturally uncool when we wear ours? Or does it make us more cool? I actually wonder this a lot, and while I wore this the other day, I vascillated between thinking I was ultra-hip and uber-out-of-it. I'm (obviously) more comfortable with the latter than I am with the former.

Bonus Digit shot!

To you: Happy holidays, if you celebrate, and if you don't, enjoy the days getting longer. Thanks for being a part of my life this very exciting year. xoox

The random winners of the knitting abaci are: C.C., Margaret W., and Haley. You've been emailed, and congratulations! Enjoy your useful bling.

Useful bling. Is there anything better? See, like this: 

See? Good looking AND it tells Digit where to find his favorite dog. (Clementine looks like she just saw Digit coming for her, doesn't she? Although she did not mind those ears AT ALL. She kept 'em on a long time.)

I absolutely love the knitting abacus bracelets from Hide and Sheep (list to the right to see all the bracelets) and they're giving THREE away to lucky commenters! Leave a comment below to be entered -- I'll draw the winners on Friday. Good luck!

[ http://www.youtube.com/embed/FYrUJJNR6EM?rel=0 ]

Click HERE if the video doesn't play.

(For those of you visiting for the first time, I swear I don't talk about acupuncture pillows much. Or ever. Nope, I can pretty safely say I've never done it before this last post. But forgive me -- it's just so awesome!)

I haven't had real neck/shoulder pain since I started using it. The other night I was weaving and I felt the tension start, so I immediately took ten minutes and used it, and the pain was GONE.

Yesterday, though, I got a doozy of a migraine that started in my sinuses (they often start in my neck but not this sneaky bastard). Since I didn't think impaling my face on the pillow would be a prudent (or attractive) idea, I didn't. The migraine came -- I was miserable. But later, after I got the shot at the doctor's office, when I was still nauseous and the pain had lodged in the base of my skull, I used the pillow and both that pain and the nausea subsided.

So for me, I'm still in love. It's not a cure-all (HA! typoed cure-ass first) but it's close.

For your reward, those of you not interested in painful pillows you can't sleep on, here's a picture of the scarf I wove (all handspun):

And what I warped last night (Noro Silk Garden Color S289):

(That's Willie on the floor, back right)

And I'm using this handspun for the weft:

And for those of you who neither spin nor impale yourself on thousands of pointy little pieces of sharp plastic, you can't deny the cutness that is Clementine's tongue:

(Post walk. Clara needs a cigarette.)

It's time for Rachael's Favorite Thing! Kind of like the defunct Oprah's Favorite Things, only mine is singular and there isn't one under your chair. I'm sorry about that.

This is what I'm lying on twice a day:

It's called the Bed of Nails acupuncture pillow, and I stumbled across it completely by accident.

See, I get neck and shoulder pain a lot. That's fine, we all do -- stress blah stress -- but my neck pain can quickly morph into a migraine (and often does). It had gotten to the point where I was almost not knitting at all because the tension in my neck would knot up tighter and tighter as I went. Also, the more I work on computers, the tighter the tension gets, and both my jobs require lots of screen time.

So late one night, out of desperation, I was prowling Amazon, researching things that came up when I searched for "neck pain."

This mat came up, along with the pillow. I thought, Who would be that crazypants? Those look sharp! Then I noticed all the 5-star reviews. I read, with amazement, as people said this actually helped their pain.

I've given it almost two weeks now.

This helps my pain.

This cray-cray pillow of (seriously) sharp needle-like plastic bits has helped me to the point that I've had about four ibuprofens in two weeks (instead of four every four hours).

Full disclosure: it hurts to start out. Yes, it does. I only got the pillow since my pain isn't in my lower back, and MAN the first time I used it I wondered if it was worth it. Then, about five minutes in, my neck started to warm up. Then my whole body relaxed. I can't explain this, it just worked. After fifteen minutes, I had to have Lala help me up, and then I tottered off to bed where I took a mammoth nap.

After about a week of using it, it gets easier to lie on -- any pain there is is gone within 60 seconds. Then the heat starts, and then the relaxation. I'm lying on it once during the day, and just before I got to sleep, 15 minutes each time, and I'm sleeping better than I have in SO long. It has literally chased away every headache I've gotten. (I don't know if it will chase away the hormonal migraine that I can never get away from. I'll keep you posted.)

I love it. Oh, that endorphin rush and the resulting warm happiness! I'm buying another one for my work locker so that if I forget it I'm not without it. Best purchase I've made in a very, very long time. Read the reviews. I bought the pink one, Bed of Nails brand, but all the brands look really similar. (Amazon links are mine, as always I get a teeny proceed from click-buy-throughs.)

I have mailed you an early Christmas/Hannukah gift! It's the Down Under release of my collection of essays, A LIFE IN STITCHES! Out today! (Okay, I think it comes out next week for the Kiwis, but today is the day in the country with kangaroos!) It took many, many trips to the post office, and I've run out of packing tape, but I hope all your bookstores are pleased with the new delivery.

HarperCollins Australia ordering links HERE and you can get it digitally HERE.

(Unrelated aside -- as a half-Kiwi myself, I've noticed that many Americans think New Zealand has kangaroos and/or Koala bears. It does not. It DOES however, have, well, Kiwis. Both countries have many indigenous knitters. You can often spot them in the wild, leaping over fences and scurrying along at the sides of country roads, needles clenched firmly between their teeth, racing toward the nearest yarn shop. (We have them over here, too.))

And look! Our own Knitty Amy Singer's quote is on the front cover! WOOOT!

I hope you enjoy it. xoxo Rachael

 

Oh, it's foggy today, so lovely and drippy and heavy and dark, and I LOVE IT. This is my favorite time of year, and November is my favorite month. The trees are just now turning (we do have lovely colors here, just not in such abundance as other places) and the roads are shiny and everything is just so pretty.

I'm at the cafe, about to get my write on, but I just had a nice thing happen, and I thought I'd tell you about it. It was a tiny moment. While driving down Bancroft, I stopped for an older man who was waiting at the crosswalk. Now, I'm great at stopping for pedestrians. I believe people on foot have as much right to cross the street as I have to drive it, and unfortunately, sometimes that translates into total impatience when I'm the one waiting to walk across the street. I'm one of those people who marches into the crosswalk, feigning indifference to the cars. I'm never actually indifferent; I stop walking and don't get in front of them if they don't stop for me. I don't have a death wish, but I like to give drivers a little scare if they don't stop, a little oh-crap-shoulda-seen-her moment. I expect drivers to stop, and I know it shows in my walk. I give a little flip of the hand, a terse "thanks" with no real gratitude.

So a few moments ago, I stopped for the older man. I slowed early and waved at him to let him know I saw him.

He crossed. While he was crossing, he grinned hugely and waved at me. That was nice. I sat up straighter and smiled, waving back.

Then, when he got to the median, he turned around and gave me an even happier wave. It was lovely. I wanted to stop the car and get out and hug him, but that would have been taking the whole pedestrian/driver contract way too far. But it made me think: when I cross the street, maybe I can initiate those moments with drivers. A smile. A cheerful, thankful wave. Why is that too much to ask from myself? Yes, legally they should stop. But that doesn't prevent me from really thanking them for their courtesy. His wave and smile were just so awesome. He made my day and won't ever know it.

There. I took a seven second exchange and made it into 400 words. I can tell I'm doing the final pretty-word-pass of the current manuscript, reading it on my Kindle, because I'm craving the actual writing.

(If you haven't had enough of me, I'm also up at the PensFatales today, talking about leftovers.)

(Also, it's 9:26am, and there's a full on first coffee date happening in front of me. It's cute, but if that nice boy doesn't stop talking about nothing but himself, the pretty girl isn't going to call him back, I'm just saying. Friendly tip.)