All I want for Christmas is a Fern Glade beret

 

21 DECEMBER 2009

This is the Christmas present I made for my daughter. It's a slouchy hat from the pattern Fern Glade. You can find it at knitty.com, my favorite site for alternative knitwear patterns.

I've used this pattern twice before and absolutely love it. I'm looking forward to making another one for my mom.

My yarn of choice is the bamboo-blend, "Spa", from Naturally Caron. The color of this hat is 'naturally 0007'.  I've used 'ocean spray' for this pattern but I also have 'rose bisque' and 'soft sunshine' in my stash, patiently awaiting their turns.

The only adjustment I advise for Fern Glade is to take out the K1 stitch on Row 14. (Now that I look at it again, the editors have struck that stitch out and all is right with the world of Fern Glade.)

If you decide to knit this one up, you might want to use a stretchier yarn than I did. Knitting the headband too tightly or loosely can backfire if your yarn can't compensate and bounce back.

Lastly, I don't use circular needles. Just can't get a good rhythm going with those things. So I use dp needles. No matter which you choose, you'll need U.S. sizes 3 and 6.


I hope you enjoy creating Fern Glade as much as I have. You can find the author of the pattern, Megan Marshall, on ravelry.com or at her blog, I saw her STRANDing there.

Happy Knitting! ~ j

One Night on Mt. Fuji

 28 AUGUST 2008

I was walking on Mt. Fuji one day...



Okay, wait a minute.  Change that first sentence to "climbing miles of rock, straight up, in the rain, in the freezing cold, in the dark" - and then add that all of this was just to see the sunrise from the summit of Mt. Fuji.

My husband has been planning this trip for months and I was never really fully "on board".  Climbing Mt. Fuji, after all, is a tad outside my comfort zone and just doesn't sound like that much fun.

Nevertheless, I went, I climbed, I froze, I endured, and I survived - rather sore and barely able to walk, talk, or think straight for the first couple of days - but I did it.  

We both did it.

So now we look at these pictures and groan together. (It's a strange way to bond, I know.)


Before the ordeal...around 12:30 pm on Monday, August 25, 2008. We went to the Sengen Shrine - the gateway to the mountain itself - to start getting good vibes.

It begins. 5:08 pm, 25 August

Two Hours Later: wet, cold, tired.  Taking a brief break at one of the
many mountain huts on Fuji-san. 7:32 pm

How dark was it? The photo below was taken at about 4:24 a.m.  Those bright dots are headlamps.  That's about all you could see.  Earlier, when we were rock climbing, all we could see were the rocks right in front of our faces.  The sky was so overcast and wet that no moonlight shone through at all.  At around 11 p.m., we found room to lay down at one of the huts and slept for about three and a half hours.  Just enough to get us to the top in time for sunrise.

The Sun.  Almost at the top of Fuji, the sun begins to wake up. 4:43 am

We made it! Just as the sun pops over the horizon, we're standing in front of the final station's Torii gate. 5:21 am

Rainbow at the End. We were so tired and just relieved that it was over. We walked around the compound on top of the mountain in sort of a daze but my husband was lucky enough to get this shot... 5:31 a.m.

That's about it for now. It's three days later and we're still tired, sore, and recovering. Take it from me - it's a hard hike. Seriously.

~ j

Posted by jennyspouse.comat 7:29 PM 

3 comments:

Bec said...

We did Fuji last year and I was terrified! I know exactly what you mean about looking at the pictures and groaning...I keep thinking "one day I'll look back on this fondly" but it hasn't happened yet. I'm not sure it ever will. We did it in the daylight... I can't imagine climbing up that thing in the dark!

August 30, 2008, at 5:14 PM

jennyspouse.com said...

Thank you! I was terrified out of my mind! I was shaking and breathing like I was getting ready to have a heart attack. One of our friends said "Yoga breaths" but I couldn't even do that. I hated every second of it. It was dark, wet, slippery, scary, and hard.

I don't know if I'll ever look back on it as a good experience. My husband didn't like it too much, either. He said, "Don't worry, honey, we're never going to do anything like that again!" :-)

That's why I love him. haha

My brother is a climber determined to climb the highest peak on each of the seven continents. He's been doing this stuff for years. Fuji was my first and last.

Sorry, but I'll just wait for him on the beach! haha

August 30, 2008, at 10:53 PM

Living in oblivion said...

Too funny! Thanks for sharing your story! I climbed it for my 40th birthday this last summer and was soo confused by the stations that when i was at the top getting my markings burned into my stick i asked how many more stations there were!! I had NO idea i was at the top!! I just figured all the stuff for sale and stuff was because this is where most people stop climbing! LOL!

January 29, 2009, at 6:02 AM

 

Saying So Long to the Big Dead Tree

The Big Dead Tree

When we moved into base housing (July '09), we became surrogate owners of a big dead tree in our front yard.  It was somewhat embarrassing because all of the neighbors could see it.  

 After all, it was big. Bigger than our house. 

The neighbors, well-meaning souls all, would stop and render their opinions, "Your tree is dead", and their advice, "Hang some plants from it, dress it up a little". 

We always thanked them but there wasn't much we could do about it. 

The ultimate decision was made by others, of course, and so it was that, one Monday morning, a truck equipped with a cherry-picker pulled up in front of the house and released two men determined to bring down The Big Dead Tree. 

I felt sad. The Big Dead Tree hadn't been bothering anyone.  Anyone at all.  

Except, of course, my husband who kept having to drag the branches off the roof and out of the lawn to the field across the street. The Big Dead Tree dropped branches day in and day out. Some of the bigger ones crashed to the ground with a vibration that made the house shudder but most of the smaller ones fell unnoticed and simply lay quietly in the yard. Not bothering anyone at all. 

The two men rode that cherry-picker basket up and down all day long, the incessant noise from their chainsaws threatening to explode the inside of my brain, until The Big Dead Tree was stripped bare.

Limbs and branches had been falling falling falling, booming against the ground in angry, noisy protest. Our house shook and trembled in response throughout the operation. When the sun set, the men left and The Big Dead Tree stood cold in the yard as if finally accepting its fate.  It was now a tall, bare, stump.

The next day, more men came and took their chainsaws to its body. The tall, bare, stump was cut into sections that boomed to the ground. 

 

The windows shook when they hit. 

Soon, all that was left of The Big Dead Tree was a pile of logs lying in a mound of sawdust. It was the last time our yard would be littered by the old nuisance. 

The men cleaned up the yard and took all signs of their activities with away with them. 

They left the yard clean as a whistle... 

...no more Big Dead Tree. No tree at all, in fact. Now that's sad. 

 ****** ~ j

3 Comments

 1 – 3 of 3

 Caryl said...

Now get permission to plant a new one !!!  Then it's "Your legacy tree! We have one at every post we've been at, and it's fun to see how they've grown :)

January 6, 2010 at 8:21 AM

 Anonymous said...

It looks so naked now!  That is sad :-(
Susanna

January 6, 2010 at 7:05 PM

 jennyspouse.com said...

I'll try to plant a new tree this Fall.  Sounds like a good idea.

January 8, 2010 at 8:48 AM