Spinning, Knitting, Crocheting, Organic Gardening, Living off-grid, and chasing sheep - because- I'm, like, NOT SANE!

Sunday, March 08, 2009

Give Me Back My Hour.....

Warning: In this post, there may be some whining. There will definitely be a spoiler or three for the March 2009 Happy Hooves (I know, a spoiler so early but I hope you'll understand if you carry on reading). To make matters worse, the probability that I will spout poetry at you is also very high - though, take heart, it will not be mine. So, you're still here, all two of you, eh? LOL. Here we go......

I woke up in a grouchy mood this morning, which was only made worse by the reality that I'd severely overslept - on account of that hour that was STOLEN from us last night. Stolen! At least, that's how I see it (see grouchy confession). I know, I know, there are perfectly reasonable arguments for why daylight savings time works and, generally speaking, it's not really a topic I feel passionate about. The one exception is in Spring - when I'm just not ready to give any precious hours away. Heck, 10 minutes is sacred while Mother Earth wakes up and rumbles her winter roots and Spring bounces in like an energetic child that you and you alone are charged with entertaining. You know, we're knee deep in craziness here on the funny farm. Most of it stuff I can't talk about just yet but, trust me entirely on the 'crazy' part.

Handspun Pandora socksSo, I should just accept that the hour is gone and get on with it, right? Only, I can't. I really, really want it back. And, my argument to the Universe is, in my humble opinion, fairly compelling. What would I do with that stolen hour?

Well, in 1.5 hours, I got this far into a 'Pandora' sock that I'm not supposed to be working on because it's not in my queue and I am supposed to be controlling startitis or at least trying to. I can't help it. The yarn called to me. It said the most, ahem, 'inspiring' things to me, and well, I was in need of a good feeling- 'nough said.

give me back my hour 026Or, I could have used that hour untangling the mess I made whilst knitting my 'magic carpet ride' socks (which, I thank you to not mention, is also not in my queue and NOT something I'm supposed to be knitting....danged that startitis!) with two circs instead of my trusty dpn's. I don't know what's wrong with me. About twice a year, I get a wild hair because I think my dinosaur way of knitting socks (usually 1 at a time and always on dpn's because me and magic loop just don't get along) is soooo outdated and I decide it's time for me to quick clinging to tradition and just learn how to knit two socks at a time on circs instead. I get all worked up and start demeaning my dpns, put them away in the farthest corner of my needle box, start reading lots of knitting books on the subject, and decide once and for all that I'm going to betray dpn sock knitting or else. A note of fact, I've never, NEVER finished a pair of socks knit on circs. Never....as in, all have gone home to the frog pond. Well, after returning to my dpn loving self, I just couldn't rip the 'magic carpet ride' socks. So, I decided to transfer them back to my dpn's and the first transfer went off without a hitch. I felt validated when I knit twice as much onto the sock in half the time, thereby verifying that dpn's are the way I go.give me back my hour 031 The second? Well, I'd love to have that hour back so that maybe I wouldn't have to cut the tangled knot of yarn wrapped around the cable and frog the sock back......I've put it in time out in case the Universe feels compassionate and decides to freeze time for the rest of the world to help a knitter in crisis and need.....waiting...... I might have needed to take a break at the wheel and spin up this sock yarn - one strand of 'raven' batts and one strand of superwash roving in my 'gypsy' colorway. That, for the record, was in my plan so I got well, one thing accomplished from that list this week.

give me back my hour 039Or, I could really dig using that hour to spin another 'Cabaret' batt that was this month's Happy Hooves club colorway. One hour and I have a 200 yd. skein of squishy singles and happy spinning yarn love. I'm knitting it alongside some loopy mohair in a shawl which I'm not here telling you about because, ahem, I'm not really supposed to be thinking about that, either. Should the spout bearing giftie hours to those in need (tries her best to look very needy and pathetic which is to say, she has an easy time posing for this picture) start spouting hours out, I may not have the strength of character to take ONLY ONE. So, if I got, say, four hours give or take a break to start some dinner or pop in a movie and spin whilst watching something with the kids, I could spin this skein of sock yarn from 2 batts.give me back my hour 049 I mean, I haven't done anything like that - uh, I don't even know where this skein came from (shoves skein under the table and tries looking innocent which is much harder to pull off).

Likely as not, though, the gift of an hour would probably be so profound, I'd feel compelled to try to use it with absolute reverence for the beauty of such a gift. I'd probably spend it reading some poetry, contemplating how silly it is to be grouchy because of one silly little hour, knit a few stitches on that shiny 'Pandora' sock, and laugh and reflect on what a silly little speck I am rolling around in a huge globe of Universe dust. give me back my hour 052On such an occasion, I'd pick one of my favorites, The Rumi. What a soul... I'd read this one from "The Essential Rumi" by Coleman Barks:

The Milk of Millenia

I am part of the load
not rightly balanced.
I drop off in the grass,
like the old cave-sleepers, to browse
wherever I fall.

For hundreds of thousands of years I have been dust grains
floating and flying in the will of the air,
often forgetting ever being
in that state, but in sleep
I migrate back. I spring loose
from the four-branched, time-and-space cross,
this waiting room.

I walk into a huge pasture.
I nurse the milk of millennia.

Everyone does this in different ways
knowing that conscious decisions
and personal memory
are much too small a place to live,
every human being streams at night
into the loving nowhere, or during the day,
into some absorbing work.

So, what time is it, anyway? snorks...