It appears that fall is coming…

My pinterest feed has erupted in boots/sweater wardrobe combos and baking. SO MUCH BAKING.

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Baking in a temporary apartment is totally do-able, which is what R. reminds me of every time I vocalize my desire (i.e. whine) for a homemade chocolate chip cookie. But it requires investment. Not only ingredients – flour, baking powder, baking soda – but at least a cookie sheet and some foil. Having just packed up our Boston apartment and systematically parceled off the pantry’s contents, I’m reluctant to rebuild the stockpile.

Mmmm but then again….

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I might just have to get over it and do some baking. For now I get my fix from the Pumpkin Lattes at Starbucks. I feel compelled to apologize for being the expat seeking out Starbucks abroad…but that was only after giving many local cafes a taste. The lattes and cappuccinos elsewhere are just as pricey and very weak. Blech. Like a hot glass of whole milk.

Here’s a progress shot of my Stonecutter’s cardigan. I’m getting ready to split for the front/back. Soon I can be sitting on the roof drinking a fall-smelling latte and wearing a sweater. P1080564

Moving to Mexico: Transporting a pet to another country

Regular readers (of the knitting variety) may want to skip this post, as it contains more detail on the regulations of transporting pets and flying dogs in airplanes than the average person could possibly be interested in. However, if you are a Samson fan, I have interspersed pleasant portraits of him throughout that you can scroll for. Here…I’ll give you a nice one just to start us off, and to show new visitors exactly who it is we spent months trying to bring to Mexico.

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The cats probably deserve a sidebar here. We miss Teddy and Edith terribly, but from the beginning we didn’t plan to relocate them. We couldn’t be sure how safe it would be to let them roam Cholula (cars? stray dogs? a populace unfriendly to naive gringo cats?) and reducing them to apartment living at this point would be painful. Plus, they’re young and healthy. We felt like they’d be happiest with my parents, and after nine months we can all reunite.

Samson was a different story, as I think dogs just generally care more about being with their owners. He’s also really old – 14 or 15 – meaning that nine months with my parents becomes a more uncertain time frame. And he loves some of the daily features of life in Mexico – sun, warmth, smells, accessible trash – so we thought it could be a nice retirement.

P1070995While we ultimately arranged to fly Sam to Mexico, our first plan was actually to drive there. We wanted the convenience of a car, especially once we found out about the baby, but also so R. could easily visit remote research sites (renting a car in Mexico is surprisingly expensive, due to mandatory international insurance, and long-term lease options don’t exist). I started pouring over maps and reading expat forums on the best places to cross, and researching the regulations on importing and insuring a car in Mexico. It’s a lot more complicated than driving to Baja for a two week vacation.

But over several months, the plan to make a 37-hour road trip to Mexico slowly fell apart. First, the federal government, which sponsors R’s grant, wouldn’t allow driving due to travel advisories at the border. When pushed they relented, saying we would have to sign a waiver acknowledging we were doing so against their safety recommendations. We were still committed, assuring ourselves that thousands of people cross the border every day, and that as long as we traveled big toll highways during daylight hours, we’d be fine. Then R’s advisor, a well-seasoned world traveler, said he’d heard from fellow academics that driving into Mexico isn’t anything like what it used to be, and that those who have done it for decades are no longer willing after experiencing things like illegal cartel checkpoints on the highway. Ouch. The final nail was learning that because we don’t own our car outright – because we make payments to the bank – we’d never be able to get the bank to agree to insuring the car for a year in Mexico.

And with that, I returned this spring to googling “How to fly your dog to Mexico.” Here’s what I can offer…

Be careful with the googling
Samson is too big to fit under a seat, which was all the more distressing because most of the initial search hits are news stories about dogs and cats that died horrible deaths in the cargo holds. Yes, it happens. But not nearly as much as search results suggest. To offset the salacious news articles, I suggest:
– Talking with your vet. Or a few vets. Mine works frequently with clients who fly large pets in cargo. She has also flown her own golden retrievers cross-country.
– Reviewing statistics. This article and this one were especially helpful.
– Checking out Pet Relocation, a company that does just that for (I thought) a hefty fee. Seeing their blog of pets successfully flown round the world helped give me perspective. All the pugs flying to Singapore reminded me we just had to get Sammy to the next country over.

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The costs add up. So does the bureaucracy.
United is not my favorite airline for human passengers, but they do have one of the best records for transporting animals under their Petsafe program. They also service Mexico.  This blog post was, by FAR, the most helpful and accurate in describing the steps involved in flying your dog. The flight, the cargo fee, the vet certifications…I was doing great until I got to #4 – Find a customs broker. This required calling a long list of Mexican phone numbers to try and find a customs broker who would meet Samson at the airport and be responsible for getting him through, all for nearly $700. I was pregnant, facing a long to-do list that included closing things up at work for a year, packing up the house, researching insurance and birth options in Mexico…I broke down and contacted Pet Relocation, whose fee suddenly started to look quite reasonable.

It’s hard not to fantasize about being independently wealthy
That’s because there are times when a shit-ton of money can solve a problem, and this is one of them. Me? I would’ve chartered a private jet so Sam wouldn’t have to fly cargo. Or maybe ordered up a yacht and we could’ve all happily sailed to Veracruz before getting in a rented towncar for the drive to Cholula. Ugh. I hate to confess how many times I returned to this fantasy.

No amount of research and planning will answer the truly difficult questions
Am I doing this for the dog, or me? Am I more okay with risking that he’ll not survive the flight, or that the end of his life will come and I won’t be there? Should I even be going to Mexico, as compared to carrying on with work/apt/pets/baby in the States and making visits? And so on. No one knows the answers. The best you can do is surround yourself with supportive friends and family who, even if they disagree with your decisions, understand that they’re difficult. We were very fortunate in this regard.

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The best-laid plans…
After all the arrangements – the vet appointment, the Pet Relocation fee, getting Sam used to a kennel, finding a pet-friendly Mexican apartment – I woke up two days before our flight and found Samson immobile on the bed. He was breathing, but too fast and too shallow. He couldn’t walk.

We rushed him to the vet and found out that his gallbladder was all sludged up and there were two small tumors on his spleen. The vet was optimistic that medication would clear up the gallbladder, said that there wasn’t a way to tell if the tumors were benign (without surgery), and warned against Samson flying…definitely for a while, maybe for good.

We cried. A lot. We paid a fee to delay our flights for a few days and talked through what it would look like for Sam to stay with my parents. The events of the morning had shown me just how hard it would be to handle the same situation in Mexico given our lack of a car and my lack of language skills. What if R. were out doing research? Could I get Sam to the vet…would a cab even take him? We both thought that maybe this was all a sign that our old dog wasn’t as prepared for international travel as we’d hoped. So we spent the remaining days with him, we gave him lots of pets and hugs, and we told him he had to live at least a month…long enough to get our visas settled so that we could be allowed to come back and visit.

Samson’s vet appointment last week went well. It’s always uncertain with a dog his age, but with luck he’ll last the next nine months. I hope. I know he’s getting the best care and love with my parents. But…it’s hard. I’ve dreamed about him. I caught a sweatshirt on the couch out of the corner of my eye the other day and for a second thought it was him.

Photo on 5-8-12 at 12Our last week in Ohio, before Sam got sick, I was visiting my grandparents. My grandpa asked how much it cost to fly Sam to Mexico. When I refused to tell him, he guessed it probably cost “$25 or $50…at least,” and then asked did I really think it was worth all the hassle and money? I replied that Samson is that dog, the one I’ll compare all other dogs to. And what do I work every day for if not to spend money on trying to get him to Mexico to be with me? My grandpa – a 92-year old non-nonsense midwestern farmer – softened. Then he got a little choked up himself. Last month their little old chihuahua passed away, and he said that he still looks for her next to the table or beside the bed, and sometimes he thinks he can feel her brush his pant leg. “Those dogs. They become like family. I understand.”

So if you are trying to move heaven and earth to bring a family member across international borders, I understand. I really do. And so does my grandpa (provided we let him think it’s not much more than $50). I wish for you good luck and supportive friends. Oh, and if you happen to be a long-distance trucker who regularly runs a route between the midwest and the state of Puebla, I have a little black and tan friend who I’d pay a pretty penny for if he could ride in your cab. He would only require a good classic country music station and some beef jerky sticks from the truckstops.

A little Saturday knitting

Mexico is cooler than I expected. We’re pretty far south, but the high elevation equates to cool breezy nights and warm dry days. In other words, not too hot for handknits. Awesome. I’m currently working on the Stonecutter’s Cardigan by Amy Christoffers, where I get to try saddle sleeves for the first time.

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Our apartment complex has three floors and a shared rooftop, and on the first day the landlord gave us our pick of a few different open units. We took our time checking them out and ultimately went with something on the second floor with its own little balcony. It was a good choice. The apartment is really basic, but it is furnished. And the landlord is letting us repaint the interior however we’d like (I’m going with an all-in-this-is-Mexico kind of color scheme).

Soon I’ll start writing a weekly series about the logistics of moving here, beginning with what it takes to move pets to Mexico. You’ll notice that there’s been no mention of Samson here, which has unfortunately been one of the hardest things about the move. We were all set to have him join us, but at the last minute it didn’t work out. Attempting to fill the pet void is Fantasmon, the landlord’s cat, who has taken a liking to us and often naps on our couch when the balcony door is open.

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And if cats aren’t your thing, I’ll leave you with a different local highlight – molcajete combinados from around the corner. It’s an assortment of seasoned, grilled meats with all the fixings (onion, salsa, cilantro, tortillas) to make little tacos. Incredible. We’re going back tonight before watching the Oregon Ducks play Michigan State. 

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At home in Cholula

There’s been a long radio silence on the blog, and that was because:
– We were planning a year-long relocation to Mexico
– We found out we’re having a baby in January

I realize plenty of people blog about life changes as they’re unfolding, but it didn’t work for me. We had to thoughtfully roll out the communication for first the relocation and then the pregnancy, meaning there were long stretches  when only certain people knew. By the time the info was blog-able we were so deep in logistics that there wasn’t time for much else.

But now I’m in Mexico! Cholula, to be exact. R. is here doing research for his dissertation. I wanted it to be a joint adventure and my job was willing to give me a year’s leave of absence. Then we found out about the baby. I guess when we have adventures, we tend to do several at once.

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I plan to blog about planning a move abroad and having a baby abroad, since those were both topics I googled a lot this spring. But there will still be posts about knitting, quilting, and spinning, since I entered the country with a borrowed Hitchiker wheel (thanks to Christine), a pieced and pinned quilt top, about 20 skeins of yarn, and several pounds of fiber. Let the projects begin!

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Sewing straight lines

“What are you making?” is the quintessential icebreaker question when people see you knitting. After hearing about whatever it is, the unanimous citizen response is, “Oh I don’t have the patience for something like that.” Repeating this interaction but replacing knitting with sewing produces an eerily similar response: “Oh I can’t even sew a straight line.”

It’s as if people feel a need to justify to why they haven’t (or don’t plan to) take up the same hobby. Or they’re trying to fend off what they perceive as a forthcoming recruitment pitch, which, given a knitter’s love for knitting, isn’t entirely crazy. How do you usually respond to these unsolicited explanations? (I’m assuming you get them too) Because I’m not sure that people are accurately identifying the barriers.

I usually say that patience is something I possess in wildly different amounts depending on the situation.

And as for the sewing in straight lines, it’s actually pretty hard for me (probably because it requires so much damn patience…measuring, cutting, piecing).

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I’m working on a stash-busting scrap quilt that – like most – requires sewing together lines of blocks (the last quilt pattern I used was cleverly chosen to avoid this). It’s so hard to match up row after row of little squares! What trick am I missing? I had to rip out several seams and redo them so that the lines weren’t egregiously mismatched, and there are still plenty of little places where it’s not quite right, but…I like where it’s going. I think it will look good when it’s finished.

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Spring sewing

I don’t usually like to entertain complaints about winter weather that is completely expected (i.e. it’s Boston in January, of course it’s snowing), but this year winter was noticeably never-ending. A friend’s wedding in southern California helped get me through that last stretch of sub-freezing horribleness. Ahhhh – palm trees. Short-sleeves. Iced coffee.

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In between bridesmaid duties I worked in an afternoon at the Fabric District, since my first tour of the place was so successful. I loitered for a while at the bargain place, but sadly, this time around no bin of new closeouts was wheeled out of the back room. I still snagged a nice striped jersey knit for around $3.

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The great news is that my new boss is big into crafting and owns all the gadgets, including a serger, and she’s going to let me borrow it so I can make a proper maxi skirt (and maybe re-sew the one I made last time because the seams are starting to pull).

The second and final purchase was this stretch cotton blend. What should it be?

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The Sheboygan cardigan is shop-ready!

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The test-knitters did their thing, the edits are made, and this cardigan pattern is all set to go! Now through March 8th I’m offering it for the promotional price of $5 (instead of $6).

Even though winter is clearly sticking around for a while, this sweater is good for more than sub-zero temperatures. I have sweaters that are beautiful but….they make me sweat. This one is all wool but the Phatastic yarn has lots of air spun into it, and so I wear it comfortably in a wider range of temperatures. I like this sweater over a plain v-neck tee with skinny jeans and boots. Maybe a nice infinity scarf on top.

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