Today I want to hug the universe right in it’s stupid face.

A friend of mine has cancer. Cancer fucking sucks. Yeah, I know that’s not news to anyone. But it’s worth restating. Cancer. Fucking. Sucks. My friend is going to be OK, which is why I want to hug the universe in it’s stupid face instead of wanting to punch it. (For the moment.) But it reminds me that I have it really, really good. The worse thing that happened to me today was that I got bad cream in my coffee at the diner and I wasted 90 minutes watching a really crappy movie on Netflix streaming. If those are the worst things to happen today, I’ve got NOTHING to complain about.

There’s lots of stuff that the movies and TV doesn’t tell you about cancer and treatment because it’s not dramatically glamorous. Like your eyelashes fall out, your fingers and toes swell up until your nails fall off, that chemo damages your senses until all food tastes like dirt, or that your skin turns blue and green and you have to have ports and tubes surgically implanted and you can’t hug your kid until they get taken out. Like I said. Cancer. Fucking. Sucks.

People respond to stress and bad news in different ways, and of course friends want to help. And my friends is lucky to have lots of friends and family who love her into a million pieces and want to do everything they can. Unfortunately, when it comes to heavy stuff like cancer there’s not a lot you can do for someone else. Seriously, if I could be all like, “Hey, I’ll take this round of chemo for you. Go relax for a while. I got this,” I totally would do it. But it’s not like picking up the check at the diner. You gotta leave the tough stuff to the medical professionals and the even more tough stuff to the patient. But pretty much most of us just have to sit around and wait. And worry. And wait. And worry. And wait. And worry. And wait more even when time seems to have slowed down to 1/8th normal speed. And repeat.

So what can you do on the sidelines? While you’re doing all that waiting and fingers-crossing and positive-thoughts-sending? There’s always something to do. Better to keep busy than to sit around do all that idle worrying.

So, I knit a few chemo caps.

And baked cookies to eat in the waiting room at the hospital.

I knit this pair of Official Slipper-Socks For Kicking Cancer In The Face.

And sewed up a few headscarves for when the weather was too warm for a thick hat.

But when that’s done, then you go back to the worrying. And the waiting. Because all the worrying and waiting you’re doing? Your friend is waiting and worrying a whole hell of a lot more, times like a bajillion. So that’s important to remember.

That’s pretty much all I can do. It doesn’t make me feel any more in control of a universe that I’m pissed at for messing around with my friend. But if it makes an almost intolerably horrid situation slightly more tolerable to deal with for her, then I’m glad to do it.

What I did learn is that while Ravelry will hook up you with a ton of good, free chemo cap patterns to knit or crochet, there aren’t a lot of DIY options for sewn head scarves out there. Well, I mean there aren’t a lot of GOOD options out there. Googling “chemo scarf pattern” or any variation will bring up a lot of duds on websites last updated in 1997. Here are few of the ones that I used as baseline guides, with good results, though a plain hemmed 36” square seemed to work the best.

This turban was quick and simple, and the instructions are fairly clear.

The layout on this site makes the pattern a little hard to understand, but if you read through it a few times, you’ll glean how to make this doo-rag style cap.

This isn’t a pattern, per say, but if you’re an intermediate or above seamster, you can figure it out from the pictures.

So there you go; maybe those links will come in handy one day. All of them are easy enough and I ended up making 5 or 6 scarves in a few different styles in one afternoon. I  really, really hope not, but reality is stupid sometimes. Yeah, this went to a more depressing place than I intended, so let me just end by saying friend is awesome and totally kicked Cancer in it’s stupid, ugly face and I’m so happy about it that I’m considering hiring a skywriter.

Vegetarian Runzas FTW

So, in Nebraska, where I’m from, we have these amazing, wonderful, unicorn-magic places called Runza. Yeah, it’s fast food. But it’s awesome and it only seems to exist in the Midwest. Mention a “Runza” to anyone on the east coast and suddenly you’ve got three heads. Unless that person is a fellow expatriated Nebraskan. Then, their eyes will well up with longing. Runzas, you see, are lovely delicacies of meat, onions and cabbage baked in a sweet egg bread. (At this point, you’re probably imagining a Hot Pocket or something. Yeah, not at all. Hot Pockets are super-gross. Runzas are the total opposite of that.)

Problem #1: Runzas only exist in Nebraska. I live in Maryland.
Problem #2: Runzas aren’t that healthy. Over the years, the restaurant versions have become increasingly greasy and the dough quality is hit-and-miss. I feel like a total traitor for saying it, but it’s the sad truth.
Problem #3: Meat. They are full of meat. I prefer things to be meatless. There are lots of meaty recipes on the internet, but a woeful lack of vegetarian versions.

So, for lack of a Vegetarian Runza closer than 1200 miles away, here is my recipe for Vegetarian Runzas. I would love to be able to make this vegan, but my efforts to veganize this have ended with less-than-appetizing results.

Sophie’s Vegetarian Runza Recipe

Dough:

• 1-1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
• 1 cup whole wheat flour   (sift the flours together)
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 2-1/4 teaspoon active dry yeast
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2/3 cup milk
• 1/4 cup hot water, 110 degrees
• 1/4 non-hydrogenated shortening or margarine (I use Earth Balance)
• 1 egg

Filling:

• 3 cups Morningstar Veggie Crumbles (or your preferred meat subsitute)
• 1 medium yellow onion, chopped
• 2 cups shredded cabbage (Use a cheese grater; it’s way easier)
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground fresh black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon all spice
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon Extra-virgin Olive Oil

Stage 1: Dough
Begin proofing the yeast in the hot water. Add a few pinches of the sugar. Let rest while prepping steps 2-3. When it’s ready, it will look puffy and foamy.

In a large mixing bowl, sift 2 cups of the combined AP and whole wheat flour, remaining sugar, and salt.  Heat milk and margarine over low heat until the margarine is melted. Be careful not to let it scorch. The milk should be at about 120 degrees. Pour milk mixture and yeast over the flour mixture. Beat with an electric mixer with dough hooks or paddle on low until a raggy dough forms, then add the egg. Add in the remaining flour; beat or knead until smooth and elastic, about 10 minutes. If it’s too dry (that wheat flour can sometimes suck up an unpredictable amount of moisture) add a tablespoon or two of milk.

Using a dough scraper or your hands, pull the dough into a ball.  Cover with a dampened tea towel and let rise in a warm place until doubled. (About 1 hour). It should look like this after rising.

While you’re waiting, prepare the filling.

Stage 2: Filling
Heat the olive oil over medium heat and add the onions, cabbage and Veggie crumbles. Stir in spices.

Cook until the onions are transparent and the cabbage has wilted. It’s going to look a bit unappetizing for a while. But just stick with me here. It’s worth it.
Set aside to cool while the dough finishes rising.

Stage 3: Assembly
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and spray a baking sheet with cooking spray. Or, preferably, line the sheet with parchment paper.  Punch the dough down and divide into 6 equal sized balls. Using a rolling pin or your hands, stretch the dough into rectangles, roughly 8″x10″. The dough will be very thin, but you want it that way because you’re going to be tripling up the bottom layer.

This would be the time to add on any extras you might want. I like swiss cheese and sauted mushrooms. For a pizza runza, add 1/4 cup marinara and a handful of shredded mozzarella before putting in the veggie mixture.  Other Native Nebraskans veggie variations include blue cheese, BBQ or Buffalo sauce, olives, spinach, tomatoes, and bell peppers. (Umm, not all of those at the same time.) Really, you can pop in whatever you’d like.

Scoop a generous 1/3 cup of the cabbage/veggie crumble mixture onto the center third of the rectangle, leaving a 3/4” border at the top and bottom. Fold the the two remaining thirds over the veggies, one at a time. Gently press the seam closed. Pinch the top and bottom edges closed.

Note: some of the meaty recipes on the internet have this craaaaaazy idea that Runzas should be triangular or cresent shaped. Maybe in Germany, where Runzas originated, that’s okay. But in Nebraska, we make ours the right way. That being rectangular. Seriously, they taste better this way. It gives you the best filling:dough ratio.

Carefully transfer the runza to the baking sheet with the seam side down (where the dough is thicker). Tuck the top and bottom edges under.  Bake for 20-23 minutes or until golden brown. Serve hot.

Runzas freeze VERY well, so stash extras in freezer bags and take them to lunch. Defrost in a microwave for 1-2 minutes and then crisp in a toaster over for a few minutes.

Congratulations! You’re now an honorary Nebraskan. See you at River City Round-up.

Infinite Jest Book Cover

IJ has been on my mind almost constantly for the last year, due in part to the untimely death of the author and to this. I am 321 pages behind schedule. Somehow I’ll catch up.

So my friend asked me (jokingly) if I would make him a cover for his copy of IJ. Because I am a little slow on the jokes sometimes, I didn’t realize he was kidding and eagerly started drafting plans.

I think it turned out well. My friend is happy, which makes me happy.

It has three bookmarks: one for text, one for endnotes and one for favorite parts:

Topstitched cover with stamped title and author name:

And a hand-stamped inscription for the inside cover.

There a was no real pattern for this, so I winged it. It fits both the 1996 trade paperback edition and the 10 year anniversary paperback edition. These are the only two editions I own, whereas my friend has seven. So I’ve got some measuring and sewing to do.