Restingmotion

  • Who’s on Top? and Why

    I finally read Guns, Germs, and Steel by Jared Diamond.  When the book first came out it had not been on my reading list even though several acquaintances recommended it.  Since then I have seen it referenced in many other books and felt I finally had to get around to reading it.  I am glad I did.  Although in many ways there is no new research or information in the book, Diamond does take information that I had come across before and analyze it in a different way.  Whether or not his theory is correct, he has made me look at history and human development in a new way and in that sense his book is successful. 

    Before reading the book I had encountered various criticisms, one of the most frequent being that Diamond reduces all of human history to geography without giving any weight to cultural, political, and religious differences between peoples.  To a certain extent this is true, but it is in fact a gross simplification and misreading.  I am not sure, after reading this book that Diamond would say that these differences do not matter, but that they really do not affect his major premise.

    The book is focused more on the differences in human development from our primitive state to our modern state, and why those changes developed primarily among peoples on the Eurasian continent rather than among those elsewhere.  It is most definitely not concerned with the reasons that, once the march of technology had begun, it was Europe as opposed to Asia or the Middle East that conquered the rest of the world.  This book is not, for the most part interested in historical development during the time of recorded history, but how we got to that time. In that sense, this book is not really a study of history but more of a work of cultural environmentalism or environmental anthropology.

    Looked at in that narrow sense, which is actually the broader time span of human history, but probably the least interesting in terms of modern historical development, Diamond probably makes a reasonable point when he asserts that the differences that lead up to the development of modern human history can be broken down into four basic factors:

        1.     Availability of potential plants and animals for domestication, leading humans to settle down into static communities rather than nomadic bands. 
        2.      The orientation of continental axis to facilitate the spread of agriculture and information across the same or similar latitude.
        3.    Transfer of knowledge between groups of people, again made easier by differences of weather and terrain.
        4.    Population size, which is again based on the first premise as settled groups of people who can feed themselves are more inclined to larger populations than nomadic bands who must search for food.

    The book contains a wealth of materials supporting these theses and it is for the most part excellently presented.  The book is not at all a difficult read, at times downright chatty, and this could be described as a strong point (readable) or weak point as these chatty conversational sections tend to reveal more of Diamond’s biases and often lapse into cliches.  In fact what I believe makes the book so successful is that it is for the most part readable and has managed to take the theory of geographic determinacy to a much wider audience.  As I said previously, the information presented is not new, I have encountered most of the facts before, and even the theory behind it is not new either.  But the book presents the facts and a rather grand overreaching theory in a new, mostly cohesive, way  that has obviously reached many and caught public attention at a time when it was receptive to this information, even if not always in agreement.

    Lastly I want to address the issue of political correctness which has certainly been leveled at Diamond.  Yes the book has a bias.  It is true it does not give a full rounded view of human history, but that is not really its aim.  Yes it argues that the differences in the development of society, at least until the beginnings of the modern age of statehood and technology, were completely rooted in outside factors, not issues of intelligence or race.  In fact Diamond argues that all peoples and races are essentially equal intelligence and who ended up on top at least started out as a question of geography.  In fact some of his arguments about intelligence and society could be easily taken up by proponents of either side of the race/intelligence debate.

    Aside from making the reader think about human development, society, and how we got here, assuming that in darkest prehistory we all started out equal on an unequal playing field, the book also reminds us that we are still not that different from our more “primitive” ancestors and reminds us that human history if full of the violent and brutish overpowering the naive, uninformed, and non-violent. He reminds us that true genius is a rare thing in human history and accidents of human geography, human development, cultural development and technology all shape whether innovations are accepted and incorporated into a culture or lost.  Having a larger population increases the chance of innovation, as does technology itself, but only the structure and veneer of society itself keeps us from falling back on our natures.  Human societies that forget these basic lessons do so at their own peril. 

    Although it is not Diamond’s point, the lions are always at the gate. 

  • Tracing, Cutting, and Filing

    I have finally cut the outer fabric for George’s vest:

    First I thread-traced all the seams, marked the darts and put in tailor’s tacks as necessary.  I used to just put tacks along the seam line every few inches, but it seems that I am much more distracted now than I was when I was younger, so I spend a little more time on prep now, hoping to save myself more gray hairs later.

    Although with quick projects for me I often just trace with pastels, which I can get in a wide variety of colors to blend in with any fabric, for a more detailed project on really good fabric like this cashmere and wool, thread tracing seems more appropriate.

    Vest1

    It always seems to take forever.  The kitchen island, which is my cutting table until I get my sewing room reorganized with new shelving and a new layout, is a little low even though it is a couple of inches higher than standard counter height.  By the end of the marking my back was sore, and the difference in my stitches is quite noticeable.  I must admit it is better than the floor, which was my main cutting table for many years.

    I always love looking at the pattern pieces on the fabric after the pattern has been lifted but before cutting.  It seems so full of promise:

    Vest2

    After cutting; right front, wrong side;

    Vest3

    Right front, right side with darts and pocket placement marked:

    Vest4

    The back piece and lining are still to be cut.  I spent more time yesterday working on the sewing room than actually working on a sewing project.  I had piled up magazines and books and was out of space on the shelves.  More shelves are in the plans, and I know The Husband would jump right in and build something for me, but then we already had one go-round of the old  “form vs function” argument this weekend and I am loathe to begin another.  I am far more willing to wait and get what I want eventually rather than spend time and money on something which works but does not please.

    Besides I need some control of my accumulated STUFF.  Eventually I plan on moving the cookbooks out of the sewing/knitting/fiber room, and I had to move some of them this weekend even though there is not yet shelving to accomplish this.  Unfortunately several projects are in line ahead of the bookshelves.  The cookbooks are now stacked on the floor along one wall of the guest room.  Hopefully mom will survive this over the Christmas Holidays – more to entertain herself with.

    Here are the finished shelves with periodicals and knitting books on the lower two shelves, sewing books occupying half of the shelf above, with the remaining cookbooks.  A few leftovers are stacked up with the interfacing and other miscellaneous items.

    Shelves

  • Sweet

    November is date season, a heady indulgence which appeals to my sweet tooth. Dates, after all are like candy masquerading as fruit.  No other treat is really necessary.

    Sweet2

    Of course, then Thanksgiving rolls around, and Texas girl that I still am, I cannot imagine making a Thanksgiving dinner without pecan pie, even though I no longer have those hard shell native Texas pecans.

    No traditional pecan pie maker I.  The pecan topping was always my favorite part, so years ago I started making this all-pecan version.  The pecans are wrapped in a rich sweet caramel.  Candy masquerading as Pie.

    Sweet1_1

    Which to choose?

  • Warmed by Music and Art at the beginning of winter

    Wonderful holiday weekend so far, far from the crowded malls.  Friday night we had a Philharmonic concert and although we approached the day with some trepidations, fearing that the train station would be parked to the gills, we were pleasantly thrilled to find the parking lots far less than full and the trains not very crowded, despite the admonitions of the conductor of the “hundreds of passengers” still to board the train.  We miscalculated the train schedule, not thinking that Friday was a holiday, and had to take a later train than planned.  We still managed to get to Avery Fisher in time for a quick cup of coffee before the performance.

    The first work, a contemporary piece by Colin Matthews, Berceuse for Dresden, was moderately interesting.  I thought I might like it if I heard it again.  George however was underwhelmed, as was most of the audience, judging by the applause.  After hearing the remainder of the concert, I am not sure if it stands a chance. 

    The Schumann Cello concerto was lovely, as is all Schumann.  Although it was beautiful I was not moved.  But I suspect I rarely am by Schumann.  I think the music is beautiful but it does not seem to affect me in the same way as it does my beloved.  Well, I suppose we cannot agree on absolutely everything and a few differences certainly add interest and spark on occasion. 

    The concert certainly built up from a slow start with the Matthews to a resounding finish with Dvorak’s 9th Symphony (New World) which was absolutely stunningly performed.  George’s initial response to the program had been that he could leave early, something of the “I’ve heard The New World Symphony so many times I could take or leave it” attitude.  I however make no bones about loving it.  I adore so many of the old warhorses and am not ashamed to admit it.  I was on the edge of my seat from the beginning.  And the performance was spectacular.  Powerful, moving, rousing, achingly beautiful in the slow parts.  A wonderful evening.   

    Today we went back to Vassar to see the Danish Art exhibit that I had seen in October.  George had not seen it yet and I had no problem seeing it again.  I still feel it is lovely and peaceful.  Some of the paintings are just beautifully evocative, even when purely stylistically they are not completely effective, such as one harsh winter scene with the sharp lines, badly placed buildings but beautiful scenery and curving road that just draws you down it, deeper into the picture.  Perhaps it was just that it is winter here now and the light in that painting is so obviously the sharp cold icy light of late winter, when things are starting to get brighter but have not yet warmed. It has an interesting effect of being both distant and isolated yet also welcoming.  It has remained in our minds.  Neither one of us remembers the name of the painter.

    There was no docent and no opportunity to purchase a catalog.  I will have to stop by during the week.

  • Pretty Pink and Sparkly

    A little simple knitting for the general Thanksgiving Festivities:

    Morse2

    Another scarf for the donation box. 
    Seed stitch, 6 inches by 46 inches
    Tahki Cotton Classic in bright pink held together with Trendsetter Dune

    Thanksgiving was wonderful.  The company was really great and the food was excellent as well.  I also made the best cranberry sauce ever; well, it was really more of a cranberry compote this year.

    Cranberry

    It is really a combination of fresh cranberries, dried cranberries, dried blueberries, golden raisins and bosc pears cooked in tangerine juice with a dash of sugar with a generous glug of sherry added at the end.  It was one of those things I kind of made up as I went along, but it turned out really well.  Luckily I wrote it down after everyone left so I can recreate it next year.

  • Happy Thanksgiving!

    Thanksgiving
    November 24, 2005
    Thursday

    Cheese
    Crackers
    Champagne

    Roast Turkey
    Cornbread Stuffing
    Roasted Sweet Potatoes, Fennel, and Shiitake Mushrooms
    Broccoli Raab with Mustard Bread Crumbs
    Cranberry, Pear, and Blueberry Compote
    Jellied Cranberry Sauce
    Oil Cured Black Olives

    Pinot Noir – Siduri Santa Lucia Highlands 1999

    Pecan Pie
    Ice Cream

     

    I love Thanksgiving.  I guess I love Holidays, especially those where people gather together and enjoy each others company over food and drink.  Thanksgiving and Christmas come to mind as primary examples, and they are enjoyable for the differences as well as their similarities.

    Even a small gathering, a couple of neighbors, consisting mostly of adults can call up an enjoyable flurry of cooking and decorating.  I suppose I just love to feed people. 

    The cooking has extended over a couple of days;  first the stock which makes the other dishes especially delicious.  Yesterday brought forth cornbread for the stuffing and the pie.  Today the main course and the  finishing touches. 

    I can think of no happier activity.  I give thanks for the wonderful fortune and opportunity that have brought me this fine family, my friends, and the ability to indulge my passions.

     

  • A few projects in the works

    I’ve finally gotten a little bit of steam up on the sewing front and have to thank you for putting up with me through the sewing slump that has been going on here lately.

    I managed to spend some of the weekend on future projects, no sewing yet, just pattern work and cutting out but that is always a significant part of every job.

    I made some alterations to the Fashion Sewing Group 1960 sweater set, not much, a small alteration to the shoulder line, and lengthening the top and short cardigan by 2 inches.  I had notes written on the pattern, which I had used, making adjustments on the fly as I cut, but that is always a dangerous path.  The day will come when I will read the note to lengthen and cut three pieces correctly and one wrong.  New pattern pieces are such a joy.

    Of course after I altered the pattern I cut some fabric to sew up, a periwinkle cotton knit, very finely ribbed.  This will actually replace the periwinkle sweater set I made in the spring for the cruise.  I love the set but it has not held up well, less well than the other garments made from that same batch of fabrics.  I am inclined to think this is due to the severe biasing that I found in the piece of periwinkle that I used for the sweater set.  I was able to grain it up, but both pieces have to be seriously re-blocked every time they are washed.  Somehow the fabric has not worn well, probably due to the harsh treatment it must be given to make it look good.  Anyway, I will be happy to have a replacement.

    I also finally finished the pattern for George’s vest.  Where I had left it off, I had fitted the last muslin and pinned a couple of small alterations, telling myself "this will be easy, I’ll remember what these pins mean".  Of course that assumption was based on the thought that I would mark the patterns soon; it has been a month and I looked at that muslin and wondered what the hell I was doing. 

    I had to have George try the muslin on again when all became quite clear.  I then had to cut apart the muslin, transfer the markings to the last pattern draft.  Redraft the pattern to include all the new alterations and then alter the lining pieces to match.  It doesn’t sound like much but it took me a significant chunk of the day on Sunday.

    I am ready to cut again, first George’s vest, and then a skirt I want to just whip out.  Now the problem is finding the time.  My plans to squeeze in some cutting time today were sadly misguided as It is nearly 10 and I have not gotten nearly as much done as I planned.  I could try cutting tonight, but considering that I messed up a couple of rows of Tesla at knitting,  burnt the potatoes and forgot to open the wine so I could deglaze the pan for the sauce for the Tournedos until after they were cooked, and then spilled my glass of wine all over the table, I think it is better that I stay away from scissors and all projects that require thought and planning for the rest of the evening.

  • The End of the Affair

    Tesla waiting to be made whole:

    Teslaa11

    It was not always an easy path, the second sleeve had its adventures and misadventures, see the weekend entry at Sew Distracted (how weird to be blogging myself).

    But she waits.

    My resolve to remain a one-project woman has failed.  I strayed, tempted by the siren call of another yarn previously sitting quietly by the sidelines, tempted by the lure of practicing a new technique, lured by the call of cool weather and the onset of winter.

    The affair was brief:

    Morse1

    Short row scarf.
    Yarn: Noro Kureyon, slightly less than 1 skein, leftover from a previous project
    Finished length: 34"

    First project of this season for my “Morse Box”. (actually there are a few projects already there, left over from last spring waiting for the return of winter)  Each year I try to knit scarves, hats, mittens and gloves for the children at one of Poughkeepsie’s elementary schools.  They go to a school downtown with a large population of poorer children.  The nurse keeps a box in her office with scarves, hats, and mittens for children who have none. We all know kids can’t keep these things through the season.  Many of these children never get a second pair, if they had any to begin with.  When I worked downtown it always broke my heart to see the little ones without gloves, h*** little ones without coats or warm clothes on bitterly cold winter days.   I never manage to knit enough.  I suppose I am too selfish.  I always end up supplementing the hand knits with a few purchased goods just to help ease my conscience.

    I think the original pattern was in Knitter’s but so many have been made over the years I have forgotten.  The original was shaped more like a wide V with a curve meant to hug the base of the neck, but I did not have enough yarn.  Besides I think this will be long enough for a 4-7 year old, at least I hope so.

    And what new technique was used?  Not short rows.  I knit this Continental, carrying the yarn in my left hand.  I decided to give Tesla a break from from the constant back and forth.  It worked well.  At first it bothered me to carry in the left and pick while knitting Western, through the front loop, but I eventually got the hang of it.  Wool was much more forgiving.  Garter stitch helped, no purls, and the wrap and turn portion of the short rows actually was easier and made more sense with the Continental orientation. I don’t think I will ever master purling with the yarn in my left hand, except using Combination knitting, where it seems perfectly logical. 

    I don’t think I will ever be a one knitting-style woman again.

  • LOST

    Look over there, see that flash of color moving at the speed of light?  See the whirlwind of flying debris?  Books, papers, yarn, fabric; it all goes flying, spinning, unleashed in a powerful storm.  Is it a whirling dervish invading our house?  No?  Hear the stream of invective, the mutters and curses and crazy conversations?  Is it the Madwoman of Chaillot?    Do you hear the banging and clanging as furniture is upended, objects are hurled, stamping feet pounding on the floor?  Is it an escaped herd of elephants?

    No it is simply Mardel.  She has lost a piece of her pattern. 

    This is not the first item lost in the last two days:

    First it was the double pointed needle, the precious ebony one that was being used on Tesla.  Five were in formation, working away.  The phone rang, the knitting was laid down, and upon her return Mardel found the fifth needle had gone AWOL, escaping silently into the house unseen.  Where could it have gone… only 20 feet had been traversed.  The needle was no where in between.  Under the cushions, inside the knitting bag, on the table?  No needle. In the coffee canister?  The fact that on one opened the coffee canister is irrelevant – we know the ways of missing knitting needles – anything is possible.  Despair…and then –Triumph.  Lost needle found, right in the middle of the floor, taunting its half-crazed mistress.

    Next it was the coffee cup, freshly filled with steaming hot coffee.  How can anyone lose a coffee cup?  It’s not small like a double-pointed needle and yet lost it was.   A good half-hour was lost searching all the possible locales.  Bedroom, bath, office, desk, ironing board, washing machine, bookcase?  Where oh where could the coffee cup be?  On the table at the Husband’s spot.  Of course it was overlooked, it was assumed to be the husband’s coffee, that which has been tainted with sugar.  But it was not, tainted that is, and all was once again well with the world, well, almost.

    For there our poor hapless heroine sat, coffee nestled between her hands, savoring the aroma and the flavor of warm coffee, when a flash of gray went by, a flash of gray trailing a gray thread with a touch of metallic glint.  Tabasco had taken advantage of the general mayhem to indulge her catly nature and had absconded with the Tesla sleeve.  Upon retrieval, all the stitches were intact upon 4 needles and the fifth needle had gone missing, yet again. Probably a different needle this time, more successful in “breaking out”.

    This needle has remained lost.  It may resurface someday, perhaps unearthed by archeologists many hundreds of years from now, archeologists who will wonder about the many uses of double-pointed needles based on the many varied and obscure locales in which they are found.

    Tesla had to be finished with one bamboo needle; bamboo, which clung to the cotton bits and made the knitting slow and tedious, but the knitting was completed anyway, despite adversity.

    And this is where we find our heroine, driven mad by yet another disappearance, this time a critical piece of a pattern, a pattern “That must be made” not because any higher being has so decreed it, but because our heroine has deemed it so.

    She recollects that she had seen the missing pattern piece, the neck band to a favorite top, the Fashion Sewing Group 1960 sweater set, which she was determined to make.  At the time, it had been most notably out of place.  She had reminded herself that it should put it away immediately and had thought that she had done so.  And yet, a sneaking part of her brain recalls that she might, just might,  have neglected her duties, saying “where can it go?  I shall put it away later.”  Oh procrastination, hand-maiden of the devil.  The piece is lost, never to be found again, at least not when it is needed.  The cutting will have to proceed in the probably blind hope that it will resurface in a timely manner.

  • Summer’s Last Hurrah

    The last of the Irises.

    Novemberiris