quelle erqsome...

granola isn't for lunch

1. I disagree with the above statement with all the strength and vigour of someone who just ate granola for lunch. It was delicious and I have no regrets.

2. I went for a run today -- it was pleasing. I can now run consistently in 2 min 30 sec (run):90 sec (walk) intervals for about 30 minutes without feeling that running is a sweaty, sweaty way to die and surely I could come up with something better.

3. I have a very small butternut squash swelling in my garden and several teeny peppers snaking out of my pepper bush. No matter how I try to phrase it, all my gardening news sounds unbelievably dirty today. I have garden potty mouth.

4. My downstairs neighbour is definitely pregnant. It's a joyous time for all, obv., but that didn't stop my ovaries from reaching out of my pelvic region to slap me upside the head. They were not hired to sit there and look pretty, no sir. You had better believe my next period is going to be cripplingly lengthy and unattractively messy. In fact, I reckon they all will until my ovaries feel they are being put to better use.

5. There was no hot water when I came back from my run, so I was forced to dance painfully in the shower under a stream of cold water. I feel simultaneously invigorated and dissatisfied.

6. Like a fool I ate all my Mixed Vegetable and Bean Curd Noodles at dinner. It's been pointed out to me that that's probably why I was left with granola for lunch.

summer long ago

Remember Distant Plastic Trees? I think I discovered this album when I was about 18 -- it was after I first fell in love with 69 Love Songs and I suppose that makes me pretty late to be coming to The Magnetic Fields, but I've never claimed to be cutting edge. I've been listening to it today, and thinking about what a very boring girl I was when I was a teenager -- already steeped in the vintage, remade, DIY sort of scene that shapes the sort of person I am now, yes; but not nearly political or active enough before I discovered Stephin Merritt. It was, as far as it compared to what my friends were listening to, music all my own. It made me want to protect the world, to do great things, to affect people and their actions. Ironic, I know.

There is, or at least used to be, a record shop on Queen St W, just past Bathurst. I forget what it's called. I was lifeguarding at the pool at Dundas W and Bathurst and would cycle down in my break to see what was playing. There were a couple of guys who worked there, one of whom was lovely and really supportive of just getting people into awesome music. The other was a total up-his-own-arse proto-hipster jerk-off who had impeccable taste in everything and utter disdain for anyone who deviated from his path. But he did have impeccable taste.

It was the former who introduced me to 69 Love Songs, the latter who scoffed me over to the Magnetic Fields section and practically entered my PIN for me when I bought Distant Plastic Trees, such was his incredulity that I didn't own it already. (I wish I could remember his name. Mike? Steve? Something uninventive on the part of his parents, in any case.)

In spite of the jackassery of the sale, I did keep going back. He was always utterly dumbfounded by my ignorance and quick to thrust me in the direction of The 6ths, Belle and Sebastian, Neko Case, The Essex Green -- albums that would revolutionise my existence. He was also appalled by my wardrobe of remade t-shirts and upcycled scarf-skirts procured at Courage My Love and quite keen to have me running about exclusively in GENUINE vintage polyester and stop supporting those who dared tear such treasures apart to create new ones.

I must have been a frustrating disciple. But because of him I was able to ensure a generation of inner city brats will for ever remember that summer as the summer that was Absolutely Cuckoo.

sad tidings

The Broken Family Band, one of my very favourites, and not just because I used to be fairly tight with Steven, is now just a broken band.

Plus, that tiny ball did not see me through the bind-off on my Aurantium Blossom shawl.

Not even the yarn reclaimed from my first embroidery project in about fifteen years did that.

A sad day.

aurantium blossom shawl

I have seven rows to go on my Aurantiam Blossom shawl by the wonderfully talented Alice Yu.

I really want that to be seven-rows' worth of yarn.

sugar-free plum and orange muffins

Today, Sunday, I have been battling simultaneous waves of exhaustion and exuberance. This week has been productive. Nay, it has been giant-freaking-capital-P Productive. Between rearranging my garden (the joys of containers!) to make way for a sowing of winter kale, cabbage, carrots, cauliflower and parsnips, drowning in a wonderful vat of buttons for Loumms and making slow, slow progress on my Aurantium Blossom shawl, I have -- wait for it -- been working on my thesis.

I KNOW! It's insane, unheard of and utterly outside all you hold true, but there you have it.

I have indeed been working on my thesis. Or at least one 6,000-word section of it, which will tomorrow be turned over to a board of editors for their approval/red pen before it is published. I do still have about five paragraphs, maybe eight, that I need to work through, but they cover little more than 1,000 words and I have just this morning worked out why they haven't been working out.

In the words of my lovely friend Judith: There will be other papers. Not everything has to be in this one. Silly though it may seem, I hadn't fully consciously recognised that idea. 'There will be other papers. Not everything has to be in this one.' Just saying those words aloud takes off so much of the pressure I was putting on myself.

This morning, I am home alone. A friend of ours is flying off on an 8-month South American adventure in as couple of weeks and last night was her leaving party. Matthew went on behalf of us both. She has a tendency to throw amazing all-night bonanzas that don't even peak until well after breakfast the next day, so Matthew is either collapsed in a heap somewhere in her house or gulping down uppers.

As my reward for being so close to being done, and as consolation for being at home, I decided to make my breakfast a bit special. I frequently do this when Matthew's on tour or has a gig outside London that I can't be at: mealtimes turn into wonderful explorations of vegan food. And they are always delicious.

This morning it's SusanV's Sugar-free Peach and Vanilla Muffins, which due to a lack of the specific ingredients her recipe calls for became Sugar-free Plum and Orange Muffins in my hands. Aside from this recipe in particular, I owe SusanV an enormous debt: ramekins as muffins cups. Genius! Other than halving the recipe, I followed her instructions to the letter using the following substitutions:

1/2 tbsp. castor sugar
1 c. unpeeled Victoria plums, chopped,
3/4 tsp. cornflour
1 tbsp. warm water
1 tsp. orange extract
1/8 tsp. almond extract
1 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 c., plus 3 tbsp. unsweetened soya milk
1 c. plain flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/8 tsp. salt
1/4 c. castor sugar
1 tbsp. chopped pecans
1 tbsp. whole pumpkin seeds

Next time, and there will be many next times, I might add a bit of orange zest as well.

masonic lodge version 3.2

I've had a revised version of this pattern on the backburner for months now and finally, after receiving 4 PMs on Ravelry in one week asking where the legend is, I've done it. I've also updated the layout and rewritten a couple of bits -- it's amazing how much my pattern-writing style has evolved since I originally wrote this.

If you fancy a gander, download the pattern on Ravelry or download it righ here! Definitely let me know what you think -- I'm pretty pleased with it, but Matthew has no idea what he's looking at and is thus not particularly helpful as a second editor (wonderful though he is at 'Mmmm, yes. That is a swell-looking pattern you've got there.').

sleeping kittens

I can't really call them kittens any more. Look at how fat they are! But they'll always be kittens to me. Great big lumpbeast kittens, who still facesnuggle when it's too hot to curl up properly. Aw!

Also,  found a new use for yarn scraps. All my bits of thesis are now carefully bundled. It's a rare smugness raining down on me for this spot of organisational genius.

so much glittery newness

So many new things! And they're all terribly exciting and of such newness, some of them aren't even here yet.

The first is that the August LYOS offering, Sherbert Toe Socks, is finally up for the taking, hurrah! When Lou and I do a pattern together, we each take a foot and knit up a practice sock, and then work the other foot as our 'good' sock -- and of course my good sock belonged to the ankle I twisted, and as you can see in the picture swapping feet was not an option. So not only had we already pushed back the release date, but I held us up even further because I had to wait three days for the swelling to go down enough in order to get the damn thing on.

With this pattern we got eversoslightly obsessed with toe variations and decided to include them all. Check out Lou's sexy shoes pic on the Loumms pattern page! She has the best shoe collection ever, doesn't she?

This wasn't the pattern we had originally envisioned (initially we had wanted to ring in Stonewall with a Big Gay Sock, but in the end had to bow to the Will of Time that that design will have to wait until next year), but I can't tell you how happy we are with the sock we're releasing. The yarn was custom-dyed for us by the amazing Easyknitter himself, as one of his Sushi Sock Rolls. We both worked straight off the roll and spent the entire time delighting over the colourway, the soft halo of the BFL, the colourway, the texture of the fabric it produced, the colourway. Final score: 110%.

The second thing is that Made by Loumms, our spandy new shop, is going to open in two days. Two days! I got in a quick and rewarding photoshoot this afternoon just before the skies darkened completely, and came out of it with decent snaps of our Moth Banishment sachets (and refills) and all but one of our project rolls.

If you haven't already, add us as a favourite seller of yours on Etsy! It would make us feel so loved.

The third new thing is the soon-to-be latest issue of Twist Collective, yay! I was a little underwhelmed by their last issue, though that had more to do with the disappointing photography than anything else, but given the AMAZING latest issues of Interweave Knits and KnitScene, I have high hopes that all this design awesomeness is spreading like a finely tailored, carefully cabled rash.

The fourth thing is that I, as erqsome, Lou, as loutheperson, and Loumms, as itself, can now all be found on Twitter -- finally! While I cannot stand F@cebook, this I can become friends with. I keep wondering why I was such a fool to resist for so long. For months and months I've felt out of the loop because I'm either too skint or too deadlined to make it out to knitting events, but now I feel like I'm back. It might not be face-to-face, but man does it make me feel like less of a leprous old hermit.

In any case, while you're favouriting us on Etsy, follow us on Twitter, too, so we can follow you and we'll all be following each other and it'll be a giant followfest of following and love. Sigh.

approved lemonade

Further to my last post, I just remembered that in one of the dreams I had last night I was walking through some street market and passed a lemonade stand with a wood-framed chalkboard sign hanging above it that claimed, in huge, angry pink letters:

LEMONADE,
MADE AND APPROVED BY
LIZ IN L.A.

I wasn't sure what to think about that either.

quail eggs and pea soup

Jesus, fucking Typepad. I just wrote a post and tweaked it and was happy with it and pressed Post and like magic it disappeared. I hate it when that happens; it's such a time-waste and just makes me so pissed off I could march into the Typepad offices and ping eraser heads at people until they do something about it. Like find my lovely post.

Arg.

You'd never know it now, but that post was so cheery and ready to embrace the world. I'm sure the sunshiney lemondrops of old are around here somewhere, they're just covered in cat hair and melted bits of the crappy instant coffee we bought for Simon 'Powered By Caffeine' Mastrantone.

Anyway, I think the gist of it was that I've twisted my ankle. It happened Sunday night, I somehow misjudged the distance between the stair and the landing, which I have successfully navigated for over two years, and came crashing down in a puddle of screaming ouch. It now looks like a quail has made her nest just below my ankle bone, except less lumpy and a lot more bruised. This is far better than I looked when I sprained it a few years ago and my whole foot swelled into a giant purple rugby ball. I can actually walk on it relatively pain-free today, all thanks to several packs of ice and one glorious bag of frozen peas

Fortunately Matthew's back from touring and so breakfast yesterday comprised of pancakes for all! We had no food in the house, because the Woebies were staying all weekend and I'm supposed to be concentrating solely on writing a paper, so it was the most logical choice. And it just so happens, the most delicious! My regular pancake recipe is awesome, but these -- the Blueberry Cornmeal Pancakes out of Veganomicon -- are divine. I don't care how much meat you ingest, no serious foodie's kitchen should be without this book. At some point I'm going to embark on a Isa and Emmms adventure, because I there isn't another food writer out there who inspires me quite so much.

Because we couldn't let that bag of peas go to waste, Matthew also whipped up my favourite summer soup: Pea! This soup is one of the fastest soups around and definitely one of the tastiest:

ingredients:

2 tbsp olive oil
1 small yellow onion, diced
500 g frozen peas
600 ml vegetable stock
pinch of nutmeg
salt and fresh cracked pepper to taste

method:

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat the oil over low heat. Add the onion and saute until transluscent. Stir in the peas. When the peas are bright, add the stock and bring to the boil. Add the nutmeg, salt and pepper, then reduce the heat and let simmer for about 5 minutes.

Transfer about a quarter of the peas to a bowl, using a slotted spoon. Blitz the soup in the saucepan with a hand-blender until smooth and creamy, then return the peas, et voila! The soup, it is ready.

It's hard to say how I prefer this soup: as the fresh taste of summer or as the bright soup in winter that reminds me summers on the way. No matter when you have it, it's delish. We've put together a couple of variants of it for the Loumms Grow Your Own series, just because it's so fast and versatile. Nom!

You know, I think that sunshiney feeling might have returned. I'm feeling light and bright and keen to face the world. And I'm feeling all ready to go with some paper-writing, too. It's a Tuesday miracle.