Oatmeal biscuits (Hello Grandma!)

I seem to be on a crackers and biscuits roll these days.
Most likely there is still a lingering hand to mouth impulse connected to a certain degree of stress, and as I am no longer smoking, that means munching on something.
And that something may as well be just somewhat healthy and rich in fiber.
The crackers recipe needs some perfecting still, but in the back of my grandmother's cooking book I found her recipe for oatmeal biscuits.
And I remember and loved her oatmeal biscuits.
They are not as sweet as the ones you buy.
But they are better. In my humble very biased opinion.
And they're square! Nearly.

And I love my cheap blue tea cups from IKEA.
Mostly because of the large saucer-turned-plate, leaving plenty of room for something to eat while easily being held in one hand.
And the colour. Of course.

I am as bad at writing out recipes as my grandmother was, but here it is:
Oatmeal biscuits
250 g butter (I used half butter half margarine, for lack of butter)
2 dl milk or water (I couldn't decide so I used half of each)
- melt butter and add water and milk.
Mix:
6 dl oatmeal
7 dl flour
2 teaspoons baking ammonia aka salt of hartshorn (baking ammonia gives crispness and lightness and during baking it smells as if a fox just took a pee in the kitchen - if not available, or not appealing, substitute with 1 tsp baking powder and 1 tsp baking soda, it's almost as good and not stinky)
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons salt.
Add the still warm butter/milk/water and quickly gather into a soft dough, which feels funny and warm and very delightful between your fingers.
Divide in two and roll first part out directly on to the baking sheet, cut into squares and prick with fork or similar.
Bake 15 minutes at 200 degrees (celcius!)
And then you do the same with the second part.
Depending on the size of the squares you cut (genius!) and how many you eat before counting, you should get anywhere between 60 and 80 biscuits.
Good sized biscuits, that is, plus some odd looking side biscuits, you had better eat first.
I'm not sure if they would not benefit from a bit more sugar and maybe some vanilla and perhaps even some ground almonds, ... or orange zest and a bit of cinnamon, ... or raisins ... just for the days when the sweet tooth is on the prowl.
It takes little more than half an hour - a bit longer if you forget you have biscuits in the oven.

But Laurenz is only happy to eat the burned ones.

Guard cat extraordinaire

While Laurenz is beautiful and sweet he is not the brightest cat.
He is very good at fishing edible things out of handbags, though.
Vincent on the other hand is a very good guard cat. And a very patient one.
And I wonder if, with proper training, the two wouldn't make a brilliant addition to Airport Security. Laurenz could search through handbags, and Vincent could stare down the suspects untill crumbling under pressure they would admit to trying to sneak through too much handlotion - or worse.
(And so they could help bring home the tuna and I could switch to working only part time.)
Vincents motto could very well be constant vigilance (something Laurenz thinks interferes too much with quality nap time - and besides we would wake him if something important was happening).
For half an hour Vincent sat like this, staring intently at something on the roof:

Not making a sound.
Which is very unusual and so I got curious as to the object of his stare:

And then it moved.

And a bit later it left.

And Vincent could go get a snack in the kitchen knowing he had saved the neighbourhood from being taken over by a pack of pigeons.

Saturday

So it is Saturday evening and in the ideal world I would probably be out in the world getting drunk on gin and being very charming.
Instead I got fed up with writing and took the longest shower in the western world before finding my very old grey flannel pyjamas and the Pride & Prejudice DVD.
Mind you it is the "new" version (with the incredibly adorable little stick insect Kiera Knightley) and I had not seen it before for lack of time and so I did a lot of skipping back because it is beautiful and because I had decided to treat myself to some sock knitting, and Clessidra is an interesting thing to knit and easily competes with even a beautiful film.
And I have red wine.
And crackers.
And cats sleeping.
And I didn't even miss Colin Firth. Or the wet shirt
...
Thinking about it I did miss the wet shirt.
But then again, you cannot always have it all.

High on crackers

I've baked crackers.
Just because I could.

And because I felt a need for something crunchy while writing like a mad woman trying to make up for lost time and lost hard disk.
I am trying to do some sort of stream of consciousness-kind of writing, hoping that it is all stored on my hard drive.
If I don't think too much or too hard while writing, it may all come out.
If not I'll switch to hard thinking - and much of it.
In the meantime the crackers are incredible.
Crunchy and a just a bit crumbly and very, very delicious.
And fun to make. And easy. And quick.
And strangely meditative once I got to the cutting and pricking.

From tablecloth to tunic

I have not had much to show these past months with regards to the Pledge, but I hope next semester will be more refashioning-friendly, timewise.
While the thrifted tablecloth was much smaller than the tag said, I have now a finished, albeit shortish, tunic top, with the help of a very old Burda pattern.

I actually think finding the pattern sheet took me longer than the actual sewing.
I am (at times) both lazy and practical and thus let the woven edge of the cloth be to form the edges of both body and sleeves.
And the subtle woven pattern shows itself beautifully in the simple shape. But does not photograph well.

And while it is a bit big I love the way it has turned out, and I'm sure the linen/cotton blend will keep me cool and comfortable on the hot summer days to come.
I like the thought of the table cloth having been witness to (hopefully) many happy family dinners.
And now it will come out with me to see other parts of the world.

Of the two white shirts one has found a new home with a friend of mine, who was quite terrified I had thought of "doing things" to it as it was
A. his size
B. a very expensive brand.
And I've just started using the other one to sleep in.

Thrifty goodness

I have not had time to do much about The Pledge.
But as I'm still waiting for the verdict on the hard drive, while still swearing at Vogue Knitting and, more important, still pondering whether or not to start the great rewriting of exam papers, I may get just a little bit done in the sewing department.

I brought home a bag full of goodness from the local thrift store yesterday.

Two men's shirts, in luxurious white cotton, which I intend to turn into something much less masculine and much more suitable for the hot summer days ahead.

And I found a white table cloth which may become a dress or maybe just a tunic-like thing, as it is a bit smaller than I thought (cats helpfully wandered in to indicate scale).

And if this wasn't enough I also got a set of bedlinen, with one stripey side and one blossomy side. This is now destined to become a pajamas.

All for the Danish equivalent of $10. Benefiting the Red Cross, and thus making me feel a little bit guilty for not paying more, but the lovely little old lady insisted that was the price.
I hope to get something done about it this weekend.
Starting with the first white shirt, once washed and ironed.
Even if laundry these days is something done in a bucket in the shower.

Yes, Laurenz...

.... your behind does look big.

Pretty and very pink

My seven years old orchid is blooming again.

That leaves only three

No wizardry at the exams office.
Not that I expected it but I was indeed very hopeful.
And since the paper & project due yesterday was closely tied with one of the papers due end of May I now only have to rewrite three papers, if the tech wizard is magicking away in vain.
And no news from him yet.
As consolation I've started working on Elizabeth I again.
Which does in a way make "her" Elizabeth II.
First yarn choice was rather bad.
And Vincent has decided that the best sunny spot is in the top drawer.
Which would, if not for him, be sadly empty by now, as we have not been able to do laundry for four weeks.
Making for rather interesting combinations in the wardrobe department.

There is hope

I have hand delivered my beautiful machine to a friend, who claims that one of his colleagues is a well known wizard when it comes to help the Apple-kind into remembering where they put their hard drive.
I am keeping my fingers crossed.
All the way to the exam office, where, hopefully, there will be another wellknown wizard when it comes to help rather overworked students into sitting their exam this term in spite of lost hard disks.
I'll worry about the other papers on the disk another day.
When I have a verdict from the tech wizard.

This doesn't happen in the real world

It's just something you hear happening to someone else.

My hard disk has died.
Actually it may not have died, it may just have left.
Even if I've checked and it's still there.
So while it's still here physically, it is not here in spirit, or whatever it would take for disk utility and diskwarrior and fsck to find it and repair it and make all well again.
And I still have a paper to hand in tomorrow. A full 12 pages of thorough wellwritten cleverness to hand in, plus the practical website project, of course.
Not to mention the other four papers due this semester.
All on the non responsive hard disk.

And I very nearly want to say to he** with good healthy sleeping and eating patterns, I'll just write a quick and nifty little replacement, and let them get the gist of the site from the test-page I uploaded just to check if the menu really did work across platforms.
The rest of the site is in the little sites folder on the hard disk.
But.... I've spent far too much time and energy on this, and it cannot just be replaced in a night of frenzied writing. Even if most is still somewhere inside my head, right now I'm too stressed and tired and stunned to find it.
And hoping that someone can bring my hard disk back.
That if I wait ten minutes, maybe it will suddenly be there when I turn on the machine. Again. While holding my breath. And wishing.
The beautiful machine, that cannot find its own bloody hard disk.

So I've sent my very nice teacher an email letting him know the situation and asking if there is any way I can sit the exam before next winter.
A dead hard disk is not illness.

Back up. Back up. Back up.

Now I'll go for a walk, kick some trees.
Refrain from returning to smoking, even if I suddenly wish I had not quit those many months ago.

There are things I just don't get

And one of them is now the point of subscribing to a magazine you either receive several months after publication date - or not at all.

A lovely friend gifted me with a subscription for Vogue Knitting in December.
However the first issue I received was the Winter issue, which would have been fine, if I had not had to wait until early April to receive it. Last season's wintry knits just aren't very interesting when every thing around you is yelling Freshly New Spring.
And I have yet to see the Spring/Summer issue, which came out late March.
And now my actual seeing the Spring/Summer issue of Vogue Knitting will require that I find a place to buy it as I received a very nice email from them saying that they "apologize that it is permanently out of stock".

And here I was in love with that paper chase dress and the heirloom baby knits (because I have a very new god daughter) and the lovely white lacy knits.
But that's just .... bah. Too bad. Because for some odd reason they forgot to send me my copy before they ran out.
So at least now I know there is no point in racing to the mail box to see if it has finally arrived.
Because it will not.

I wish I wasn't so very disappointed. As it is after all just a magazine.
About knitting.
With beautiful patterns.

But I do have more important things to think about, and I should, and it's still just a magazine, and so I will.

And I hope the nice people at Vogue Knitting don't expect a renewal of the subscription once this expires.

There was only room for one in the Kitty Pi

But sunny spots enough for all to enjoy.

Kitty pi in the sun

The kitty pi has been largely ignored since its first, and only, day of Being of Interest.
In spite of costly wool and not very comfortable knitting with incredibly large needles.

But being placed in a sunny spot it has finally returned to the list of Best Places to Take a Nap.

Finishing the Elfin

I finished "her" this morning.
And I love it and so do the cats.

Mmmm, Silky Tweed.

Move? Who? Me? I'm not going anywhere.
I've managed a few catless photos - but they're to be found on the Domiknitrix KAL

I have....

First of all I have a new modem. The second new modem in one month.
The old one burned out.
The first new one did too.
But the second new one is still not burned out at all.

I also have what may very well be the most beautiful yarn in the world.

Recycled Sari Silk Yarn. It is gorgeous and shiny and so very soft and glistens in the colours of all the jewels of the world.
I am so very much in love with this yarn and pet it very gently while wondering if I ever can bear to knit with it.

It came in a box full of wonders (which Vincent the Helpful assisted in unpacking) from the lovely Linnea, along with a pattern for fingerless gloves and matching dpns and chocolatey goodness and a wonderful, beautiful and very inspiring book:

I've seen this book, and read a bit about it. But none of what I've seen or read has done it justice. It's so very inspiring, and I really like the focus on who, why and how rather than what.
And I will absolutely use it and try to do something good for someone - once I've done my bit on the five exam papers and projects I have to hand in during the next two months.

I also have cats enjoying the return of the sun.


And I have a garden which has exploded in colours and floral abundance this past month.

My gorgeous landlord isn't much the gardening type, so it's all a bit wild and left to itself - and it's probably the prettiest garden in the street, even if it's trying to escape through the fence:

And I wish I knew the name of this one:

It has a few days yet before it once again becomes this glorious fairytale tree of flowers, and then it will be only a day or two before same flowers are strewn across the lawn.

I also have made progress on the Elfin Bride. In spite of myself, and red wine, and a strong inability to properly read patterns.
But I plan (hope) to finish it this week, so that I can concentrate fully on the exams. It is the most interesting and exciting and beautiful piece of knitting I have ever encountered (not that that really says much, but still....).
And it's very addictive.

And I have two weeks before handing in the first exam paper/practical project.
And I have a cold, which may actually be some kind of hay fever.
And I have new shoes. Beautiful shoes.

And no actual news or interesting things to tell. At all.

The jacket gone bag

The bag is finished! I can barely believe it, but it is!
I had the old leather jacket, as already mentioned.
In addition to this I had an old thrift store bag, made from a strange, slightly greasy piece of crochet but with a gorgeous handle.
And when the handle met the bits and pieces salvaged from the old leather jacket, this is what happened:
With lots of lovely little pockets inside for keeping me organized. Or attempt to.
And breaking only one needle in the process.

Four needles in one day

I have the day off sick and even if the cats would very much prefer I stay in bed, I thought I would try to use the day well.
So I started on the from-jacket-to-bag-project.
Mostly because I could use a bag other than the Hayden Harnett wonder I carry around everywhere I go, but also so that I can show off something to prove that I live up to The Pledge.
Not having bought anything new isn't really enough.
The leather jacket I bought in New York 10 years ago and have worn spring to autumn ever since is no more.
It was torn and worn and had more than done it's duty.
Still there were patches and bits of leather here and there not worn to paper thinness.
And since parting with the jacket completely would nearly break my heart, I thought those bits and pieces could become a bag.
But four broken needles later all I have is a very pretty lining.
And all this is to become a lovely bag:
Once I have more needles.
So I'll just return to my knitting.

Scones obsession

I have developed a slight obsession with scones.
Mostly because they are delicious and amazingly quick to make.
And my favourites are spinach/feta scones, combining yummy home baked goodness with vitamins and other good things.
I would like to think they are my own invention, but there may very well be others with the same idea.
This is how mine comes into being - and then quickly being eaten:
Mix
250 g plain flour with
4 teaspoons baking powder
Rub in
50g cold butter - I grate it in, making this faster and easier
Add
1 tablespoon dried herbs (I use a Mediterranean mix I got from somewhere) and
a small handful lightly crumbled feta cheese
I let
two frozen spinach balls thaw in a glass with
1 dl boiling water and add this with
1/2 dl milk
to make a soft but not sticky dough.
And as I have neither room nor patience for rolling and cutting I just shape 8-10 flat, round scones and place these on the baking sheet.
Bake 12-15 minutes at 225C
And it seems the nasty sinus infection has decided to return for a while and I'm staying at home, close to my bed, today.

Dusting the old books

I have inherited a couple of dress-making books from my grandmother.
One, my favourite, from 1949. Klip og Sy Selv (Cut and Sew) - New Method by Mme Lyse de Landroy.

In addition to the strict yet clever advice on fit and style, such as"Being well dressed is a duty", it has beautiful patterns. All patterns are drawn in grid, so that even if the original gridded sheets, one for each size, have vanished, they should be possible to recreate.
One chapter is devoted to recycling clothes, which is natural given the year of publication.
And these are the words:
From a men's coat: a women's coat, other kind of coat, a women's jacket, a loose coat, a boy's coat, a girl's coat - and then the remnants can be used for various purposes.
From a men's suit: a women's suit, a dress, a child's coat
From a pair of men's trousers: a skirt, trousers for boys up to 10 yrs old.
From a skirt: a child's dress, a sports jacket for girls or boys, a skirt for a girl, trousers for boys up to 6 yrs old.
From a blouse or a skirt: a child's dress up to 10 yrs old.
From a summer dress: a summer blouse for a suit.
From two women's pullovers: one new pullover.
From two men's shirts: one men's shirt.
From one women's pullover: a child's pullover, two pairs of socks.
From two old sheets from grandmother's days: a splendid summer coat.
From an old piqué bedspread: an adorable home dress.
From a duvet cover: an adorable summer dress So, if I lacked inspiration to go forth with living up to the pledge, I've found it.

The beginning of the Elfin Bride

I've had a bit of a fever all week, and today I just could not find the energy to go to work. So I've just been reading, sleeping, and playing with the cats.
And knitting a bit.
I have found my camera, and can now prove that not only has the Elfin Bride/Gothlet pattern been released but I have actually had the courage to start.
Only because the pattern is exceptionally well written and very detailed, and because In addition Jennifer Stafford offers a brilliant visual aid gallery showing the complete process.
I fell in love with this piece of knitted genius during my first forays into the online world of knitting.
And it still seems a bit unreal that I am actually attempting it.
Of course i have already shown disobedience by not using the recommended cotton, mostly because I was eager and impatient to start, and March will be a bit low on the money front, but also because my lovely green Silky Tweed seems so very perfect for it.

And the first sign that it's meant to be, is that first swatch hit gauge right on.

And now that the camera is back, a kitty picture is in order: Vincent says hello.

My week in colours

I am actually more disciplined than I ever thought I could be.

The weekly schedule does not leave much time for sudden impulses although there are plenty of little white spots for not only going by bus and train (transport time is included in the white) but also delays in traffic and cuddling cats - and a bit of knitting.
Having the week planned, and having a rather fixed schedule keeps me sane and organized. Otherwise I do think I would be stressed out, living in a big mess with no clean clothes to wear.
And even if cold and dark winter mornings do not exactly make you jump out of bed and onto the yoga mat, that daily hour of ashtanga adds more to my general wellbeing, physically and mentally, than an hour of sleep.
And I have managed to keep both Friday and Saturday free to go to concerts, or dinners or to go dancing. (Even if I'm usually too bloody tired to.)

Still it does pi** me off quite a bit when a friend of mine, who has no job (inheritance makes it not so necessary) whines about stress caused by having to do both laundry and shopping in one and the same day.
(And when I have to decline an invitation because I have to prepare for Friday's seminar I get the reply that "well, maybe you should learn to plan better".)
I love her, but I wish she would try living in the "real" world.
Not necessary "my" world, but just one which does hold responsibilities and deadlines - and bringing home enough to pay the rent and feeding the cats, and buy a bit of yarn once in a while.

This is by no means meant as a complaint.
It is my own choice, and I am strangely happy.
Getting my degree means enough for me to live like this until I have it, even if it may not be as fun as it could be.
And seeing a beautiful pair of shoes does sometimes make me long for the days of having a real job and a real salary.
But those days will come again.
And there will always be beautiful shoes

Yawn

The return of a week with 40 hours at work, 16 hours of university courses, 8 hours of public transportation (with no calm quality time for knitting or reading), and 12+ hours of preparing for courses (not including the three papers I'm working on in order to be well-prepared for summer's exams) has left me just generally tired and a bit overwhelmed.
Even if I really should be used to it by now.
It's nothing new.
I just wish I had witty insightful things to tell, or extraordinary evidence of knitting and sewing skills to show off.
Or at least just a pretty kitty picture.

But: nada.

Once that the work, and the coursework, and the cleaning, and the laundry, and the other practical, everyday things are done, there is not much batterylife left in me.
Still, if my camera had not vanished I could have proven that knitting is actually taking place - and that the cats are still as beautiful as they are bad.
I have cast on for the amazing Elfin Bride, even if it terrifies me as much as it excites me.
And I'm well through the front of Elizabeth I.
Mostly because ....
The Simple Knitted Bodice has me bored to tears. And I'm not even sure if I really like it.
And I don't think I want to finish Vigdis at all, a realization I wish I had come to before I was nearly done, having only the back to finish.

And I really should be working right now.

Hrmpf

Well, the very nice man I finally found and had a very nice interview with in the wasteland called the free port, has decided that while I am lovely and interesting and obviously competent and qualified (which it is always nice to be told), they would like someone with a more mercantile background.
And better sense of direction and map reading abilities (my addition).

Waterfront

I had a job interview today.
In a very strange area, the old free port, which is still a huge wastelandish port area.
With many big, big trucks and containers and rusty metal barriers everywhere you look.
And I am slightly afraid of big trucks.
Every adress there is something-kaj. And did I mention it was huge?
And so I got lost. Completely. Lost.
To me the rule is that if I'm not early for appointments I'm at least punctual. Always.
But no rules without exceptions, as they say.
I had, of course, given myself a 10-15 minutes margin to find the place.
But 7 minutes before the meeting I realized I was lost and called the recruitment firm for a confirmation of the adress and hopefully a bit of guidance.
And I was guided back down the long and winding road towards the outer end of the port area, and was told to just keep walking.
And it was raining. And windy. And cold.
And an old port is in all its photogenic decay really not the most charming place. Especially not in high heels in the wind and rain, feeling very small as the only pedestrian with huge big trucks rushing by, squirting even more water everywhere.
I ended up looking at nothing but a single shivering seagull and the big grey ocean in front of me .... and then turned back and in slight panic spotted a taxi down the road and ran to catch it before it went away.
And the very nice driver drove me back past starting point, not far from where I was standing when I called the recruiter, and then down a few more quays and around a bit, and then, there it was.
After bloody 45 minutes of determined walking hither and dither with no clue whatsoever.
At arrival I was reassured that noone could ever find it.
And the interview went well. For a full hour.
Fluid conversation, clever questions and answers, much knowledge displayed.
I'm just afraid that no matter how eloquent or insightful or very qualified you are, it will rarely outweigh a whopping 35 minutes of sheer lateness.
And the carefully applied discreet make up had of course been ruined by rain and wind, which left only freckles and fresh air cheeks and wet curly hair and a general mess.
Which was me.
However, going home I listened to Simple Minds' Waterfront.

Get in, get out of the rain
I'm goin' to move on up to the Waterfront
Step in, step out of the rain
I'm goin' to walk on up to the Waterfront
Said, one million years from today
I'm goin' to step on up to the Waterfront
Get in, get out of the rain
Come in, come out of the rain

So far, so good, so close, yet still so far
So far, so good, so close, yet still so
So far, so far, so far

It had already been rumbling at the back of my mind while I was searching for the right place, but I could not waste precious time fiddling with the iPod.
Oh, the worst thing is: I really would like that job.
But the lesson learned:
Next time I'll take a taxi to start with rather than do the full port area sightseeing first.

More snow

Is it snowing again?

It looks like it.