Gauge Exposed

(From Wikipedia)
In knitting, gauge is the number of rows and/or stitches per length/width of a knitted fabric, e.g., "5 stitches/inch and 7 rows/inch in stockinette stitch".

(From Me)
In knitting, gauge is the fool-proof system of measurement that undoes me every time! e.g. as follows:

This weekend I made pumpkin pizza. We ate the pizza. It was yummy, and now there is nothing to show of it. I also knit two sweaters and three huge hats. Can you guess why this is all I have to show for it? (no we didn't eat the knitting)

The answer? "Gauge." From now on, please pronounce this word in a deep, malevolent and disapproving tone.

When pigs become astronauts, the process of "gauge" will work for me. Until then, I am destined to knit baby sweaters that fit my husband, and hats for two-year-olds that don't fit my fist!

As I considered my amazingly unproductive weekend I experienced a growing conviction that "gauge" does not and will never work for me. Here's why:

First off, it discourages creativity. "Gauge" requires the repetitive knitting of insipid little squares so many stitches by so many rows. These squares are then tediously measured. If they are found unsatisfactory, a scientific method of needle substitution is required. This subsequently leads to more little squares. A robot would be perfect for the task.

When the insipid square does finally measure satisfactorily, a second discouragement follows: Word-Problem Math. Here's an example: "If my 7 stitches and 5 rows give me a square 2 x 3 inches, how many stitches do I need to make this sweater 20 inches around and 11 inches high. Also how many stitches do I need to decrease so that I end up with for a 7 inch neckline?" My hate for math is not complicated: I have been allergic to any form of computation since the 7 x multiplication tables brought me to tears in front of my entire 4th grade class.

Thirdly and perhaps most importantly, the process of "gauge" is ALWAYS the same. I cannot do things the same twice. It is not that I am so much opposed to it, as that I am utterly incapable. If I try, a large koala bear in my brain takes over and thwarts my efforts. This is why I wake up in the morning with my contacts still in--when the night before, I specifically went into the bathroom to take them out, but brushed my teeth instead. I can't even sleep in the same bed every night. I'm a traveling sleeper. My house mates used to find me in the living room and sometimes on their bedroom floors. When we first married, I dragged my husband out to the sleeper couch in the living room--which involved re-arranging our living room to unfold it. We did this every couple weeks until he wisely suggested that we could just switch sides in bed instead.

Against my nature, I have submitted myself to the process of "gauge" (don't forget the malevolent tone) time and time again. I have done this with an altruistic hope that "this time" I will indeed be able to knit the piece I propose to make only once: smoothly moving from beginning to end. Despite my faithfulness, the process has never once lived up to my expectations. I have never yet made anything without stopping at least once to rip it out and start over. What have I learned?

"Gauge" is not my friend.

Goodbye, "Gauge"

.....Forever!

Card Making

My parents told me our money came from God. That is because I grew up as a child of Wycliffe missionaries in the Philippines. Our income didn't come from a paycheck. Instead it came in the form of donations or "support" from people who believed in the work my parents did.

As I got older I came to understand what this world view really meant. We believed God had asked my parents to do the work they were doing. We also knew He had also promised to enable them to do their work. This meant God was ultimately responsible for supplying everything they needed. This world view is called faith. You trust that God will provide what you need when you need it. Scary right? But no, the strange part is that it wasn't.

Of course, our income varied from month to month--sometimes quite drastically. But my parents believed that whatever we received was what we would need. I remember several conversations I overheard between my parents. Dad would say something like, "well, there is $500 more than usual this month, I wonder what it's for."
And sure enough, a few days or weeks later, the entire air conditioning unit on our pickup truck would break. Or, someone would come trotting into our yard with a malignant tumor growing in their sinuses which required a trip to Manila and expensive treatment. Incidents that would have been impossible to remedy without that extra $500.

If you needed something, you bought it and God would provide the money. If you didn't need it, you didn't buy it, because that's not what the money was for. It was a a beautifully innocent and simple way to live. We never suffered, or even went without. But we were terribly creative with what we did have.

My brothers made bows and arrows and whittled their own sling-shots. To this day, if you put my dad in a room with some 2x4's, a little plywood, a hammer and saw, there are probably over a hundred beautiful and functional things he could make for you. (This was our house that he built) If you gave my mother a camp stove, a live hen and some raisins, she would be serving you cordon bleu by that night. And you better believe there would be cinnamon rolls for breakfast. That's just how it was: God provided.

Now? Well, I do earn a paycheck now, and I often miss that beautiful way of seeing God behind every purchase I make. But I don't buy cards. I don't need to, that's not what the money is for. Instead I make them and try to see His face behind every new design. And is is so Fun!

Lady Spring

I do believe in helping Lady Spring.

When I was in college I did this by wearing flip-flops starting in February. But this did not seem to have dramatic results.
It still never really got warm until April or May.

Still, every year around this time, my armpits start feeling like they have "wedgies" from all the clothes I'm wearing. I face irresistible urges to just wear less. And whenever I succumb, I have these fleeting fancies that Lady Spring is smiling down on my purple toes and will sweetly bring out the sun to smooth over my goosebumps.

Here are some pictures of the techniques I've used this year
...maybe you will be moved to remove your sweater too!

The Start

Well, here goes! I'm honestly intrigued by the idea of experimenting with a blog to see if it could be a work of art. We will see how THAT goes. And in the meantime, at least it will be a chance to share my arts and craft projects with those of you who are far away. Here are a few pictures of what I've spent my time on in the last couple weeks.