Working weekend

Posted on March 22, 2026 by knitigatingcircumstances

Doug has been working hard on a research grant proposal and this weekend is crunch time. He has been completely glued to his computer screen the whole weekend, occasionally lifting his head to mumble something about “multi-scale hierarchical dependencies” or “brain-state dynamics and connectivity plasticity.”

I had hoped to be showing you my new sweater today, because I finished knitting it a week ago. I managed to put off grafting together the underarm stitches for a full week, because I am terrible at grafting and I had to psych myself to do it. (The knitting itself is the fun part.) Yesterday in the bright early morning sun, I sat at the table and grafted the underarms. Of course, it took only half an hour, which is vastly disproportionate to the time I spent procrastinating about it. At that point, the sweater looked like this (from the reverse side, of course):

As it was a beautiful, sunny day, I took it out into the garden to weave in all the ends:

Then, I gave it a bath:

Finally I blotted out all of the water with a few iterations of towels, and laid it out to dry:

I didn’t even bother pinning it because I think it fits just right. It is dry now, and beautiful, but I have to wait until Doug is finished with “cellular and circuit mechanisms in a causal developmental model” before showing it to you.

Small happy things

Posted on March 7, 2026 by knitigatingcircumstances

There are lots of big unhappy things happening across the world and it is easy to get lost in them. But there are many small happy things as well. You just need to pay attention and you will find them. Here are some I’ve noticed today.

There is a beautiful pair of jays building a nest in the top of a tall tree right outside my bedroom window. When I wake up in the morning, I watch them very busily working in tandem to some internally programmed choreography. Our garden is filled with hard-working birds right now, but these jays pull me in. They are so earnest.

There are also frogs in our small garden pond this week, very actively reproducing. This used to be a yearly occurrence in early spring. One day the pond would be literally frothing, as a host of frogs came from out of seemingly nowhere to mate. We called it “frog-f*cking day” and it was the sign that spring was here. I always wonder what the cue is; how do they all know which day to congregate? For weeks afterwards, we could watch as the tadpoles hatched and grew. There have been no frogs in our garden for the past 4-5 years; we thought they had gone for good. But here they are again; big, fat, healthy frogs churning up the pond. Maybe they know something we don’t?

Doug decided to make his own yoghurt again. He used to make it all the time, but hasn’t in many years. The yoghurt is luscious, light and creamy and delicious. We have been eating it with a spoonful of Leah’s home-made jam. Leah made this jam with peaches that we bought late last summer in the Okanagan, perfectly ripe and juicy and sun-kissed. We were on a road trip, the four of us, to enjoy some gorgeous scenery and to go wine-tasting and buy the wine for Emma’s wedding. Leah also used fresh vanilla and cinnamon that Emma had brought back for her from Kerala, where she had travelled for a friend’s wedding. Each bite of this is not only delicious, home-made goodness, but reminds me of summer and peaches, mountain lakes and gorgeous wines, family road trips and weddings.

Yarn and knitting are a happy place for me, and what can be happier than the gorgeous colours and patterns emerging now as I knit the yoke on my newest project? The design and yarn are from Kate Davies. I mostly stopped doing colourwork since I had covid in 2022, as brain fog made it really hard to concentrate. I am loving every stitch.

Small happy things are everywhere if we take the time to notice them.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Posted on March 2, 2026 by knitigatingcircumstances

My dad was born on March 2, 1936. Today would have been his 90^th birthday. When he was a boy, his family lost their farm in the Dust Bowl and migrated to California. I suspect this contributed to his love of Steinbeck. He joined the Army, was a paratrooper (I cannot believe my dad jumped out of airplanes), did a tour in Europe, and then came home and went to University. He got his PhD in Sociology and spent most of his working life teaching and researching; he specialised in race relations and civil rights. I probably became an academic because of him. (I remember thinking as a child “If Dad can get a PhD, then I can too. I will get three of them!”)

My dad loved the outdoors, especially the mountains. He loved to hike. He had a very dry sense of humour and told a great shaggy dog story. I was very gullible and nearly always believed his stories, especially the ridiculous ones. He loved jazz and went to see it live whenever he could, often with my sister. He was fascinated by politics and history, and he read anything and everything on 20^th century American politics. Even near the end, after 12 years with Parkinson’s and cognitive decline setting in, Daddy could beat us all at quizzing – as long as the questions were about politics.

Dad taught me three important lessons in life. First, question authority. Second, always check your sources. Third, and most importantly, be kind. Happy Birthday, Dad! I miss you! I’m glad you can’t see what’s happening down here.

Handle with care

Posted on March 1, 2026 by knitigatingcircumstances

Yesterday we went into London to attend Collect 2026, the annual International Art Fair for Contemporary Art and Design, hosted by the Crafts Council at Somerset House. It has been a few years since we were last there, and as always, it is a completely lovely and inspiring way to spend a day. My impression is that there was more textile-based art this year than previously.

I was blown away by this piece, Monument, by Studio Sumakshi Singh:

The exhibit placard reads, in part: “Copper zari is threaded onto water-soluble fabric to create a life-sized rendition of a column from Delhi’s 13th-century Qutab Minar complex. Using Indian braiding, lacemaking and other embroidery techniques, the base is then dissolved, leaving only the delicate structure in its wake.” The gossamer fabric it creates casts amazing shadows which flow and interact as people walk past the hanging. I took this photo to try to capture both the item itself and the shadows. It is a truly amazing piece.

Another stunning piece of textile art is The Life Above, by Kamila Ahmed:

It is hard to capture how vibrant the blues are. From the placard: “Drawing on heritage embroidery and Jamdani weaving, Ahmed combines hand-wrapped silk warps and embroidered surfaces to create dialogues between transparency and density, fragility and resilience.” Both of these pieces, which draw on heritage, culture, traditional craft, city landscapes and architecture, and highlight decay and beauty, destruction and resilience, seemed particularly powerful yesterday in the light of world events.

On a more whimsical note, I loved the lace-making of Jingyi Li, whose lace recreations of household items, were charming:

I completely adore this beautiful chair, also by Jingyi Li, which combines handmade filet lace and a vintage woven cane chair. It was one of my favourite pieces of the exhibition.

Looking at the photos we took, chairs were definitely a theme:

Here are some other photos from the afternoon:

It is so inspiring to see such beautiful craft. It gives me hope for humanity. Today, I am enjoying a quiet day with my own crafting, working on my Collar de Pilar sweater, designed by Kate Davies. Here is a progress photo taken this morning. Yay! It fits.