Farm-Witch

NEW HOME!

2010-03-17T13:38:00.000-04:00

I've been working on something - a new home for the blog. Granted, it has taken me eons to do it and I've not yet gotten all the previous posts transferred, etc., etc., it is up! I'm excited about the new blog because it feels a little more 'homey'. Come over and tell me what you think:)

Babies!

2010-02-24T10:44:00.003-05:00

Since I've been 'missing' from the blog for sooo long (sorry about that - shows coming up, kids with the flu, and lambing season seem to have swallowed ALL of my time) I thought I would keep the blather short and sweet - because I can try something new LOL - and just DELIVER the goods on what I've been doing for the last few weeks.

Well, there's been a good amount of dyeing for SPA next weekend but I can't show you that because I'm neurotic and have already packed most of it away and double bagged the totes because it might be rainy when unloading the truck (I told you, neurotic!). But I can show you the fuzzy noses I've been petting - and somewhat portray for you the politics of being a lamb:)

First, there were the Valentine's Day babies. Aren't they sweet? One ewe, one ram - born literally hours apart so they are having some difficulty establishing the pecking order that is being the first lamb. First lamb gets to pick the games they play, gets to run ahead of all the other lambs, and gets to be generally doted on. But, ya'll, I don't know how to say this nicely - it is a known fact that ram lambs tend to come into their 'brains' a little slower than the ewes. I look at it as they are taking just a wee bit longer to wake from the long sleep in the womb. Still, 2nd lamb - a precocious and 'you're not going to tell me what to do, buster' ewe is outsmarting, out running, and out maneuvering first lamb every day and he's more than a little frustrated with that. Here, they are discussing why it should be he that gets to run the full length of the barn and back to the waiting place first and she, well, she's just not listening to him AT ALL.

Older sister (a ewe yearling born last spring) steps in to negotiate. Naturally, she sides with the gwirls and the little ram is left standing their stomping up and down while our ewe runs the full length of the barn - complete with skidding to stop and slamming into walls - TWICE. Oh, he is so irked!

To distract them from this 'issue', in walks a farmer's boot.
her: oh, he has a boot - mmm, that smells nice, I think I'll lick it
him: whuh? He has a boot, hmmm, what's a boot?

When you're the 3rd lamb, you just don't get alot of respect OR ever get to be first running the barn - UNLESS you are wicked fast and afraid of nothing. This little ram is an experiment - he will become a whether like his uncle, whom I adore. He's born of a Cotswold mother and his father is Merino/Corrie cross in that gorgeous dark chocolate natural color. Not only is his fleece to dye for (silly pun, I know) but he is just about the spritiest (word?) little lamb I've ever seen - healthy- born running, and just doesn't manage to get too worked up when bossy lambs 1 and 2 try to push him around. We have to be careful, though, when opening the barn door as he tends to like to run for the door when he hears us coming and will, on occasion, jump right out the door!

You can see, here, he's getting a good tongue lashing from lamb 2 (who doesn't seem to like a dose of her own medicine and is irked that this 'younger' ram has the audacity to disrespect her order) because he gets so excited about running that he'll take off an the slightest encouragement and is wayyyyy faster than the other two lambs so, you know, he always wins the race to skid to a stop slamming into the wall. They still skid and slam, too, but they like to be first at it from time to time. I don't pretend to understand how that ranks one superior over the others but it is their system so I try to respect it - LOL.

Aside from that, there's been an insane amount of spinning going on. Some silly fool decided to spin a 1700 yd lace shawl's worth of yarn for the Knitting Olympics. I mean, really, who would do something so foolish? Uhmmm, me. I'm 700 yards into it and it's not looking like I'll finish - what with vending at a show this weekend and all. I hang my head in shame and step aside to let the other olympians shake their needles and spindles at me and curse me for not finishing. Or, I just have a little chocolate in my coffee and keep on keeping on - LOL. I'm fickle like that, I guess.

Lying to myself.

2010-01-24T17:37:00.002-05:00

Heh! Who was I kidding with that whole 'not casting on new projects like a madwoman' rule that I gave myself in the last post? I mean, of course I was already casting on the 'Calloway' socks. This pattern is totally awesome - that's my defense for lying to even myself about said 'rules'. When will I learn? The rules are: there are no rules. There. Done. Now we can knit happily - which I did. This pattern is just the right balance of complex, but very simple and easy to follow along. I mean, it's not like you can toss the chart out your car window and just run free through each row or anything but, you know, you can sort of go with its 'flow' and consult the chart when you need to. For me, that's just the right balance of interesting stitch patterning but still enjoyable knitting. Excuse #2 for ignoring my obviously flippant vow to be faithful to my WIPs - it was oh so blue and I needed some deep blue in my days - here's a closeup to show just how dark the blues are without the flash mucking them up and making them look more splotchy than they really are.

I practically had to drop those sad and forlorn WIPs and plow right through this one - I'm on sock two but nearing the finishing point for her as well and soon, oh so very soon, these babies will be on my toes and bouncing happily through the day - must.knit.faster. Who am I kidding? I'm wearing the single right now - LOL.

But (crosses her fingers behind her back just in case she caves and casts on Anne's new sweater pattern that somehow managed to purchase itself, download, and print to land right square in her knitting basket) promise - I'm back on the WIPs next. Really, I am...why are you looking at me like that?

Did you want to see the whole sock? Here she is:

Calloway by Cookie A.
in my 'Vila' colorway

= true love that cannot be stopped by fidelity vows to WIPs.

My alter spinning ego

2010-01-21T18:04:00.003-05:00

Okay, I think I've taught a handful of spinning classes. And I'm pretty sure that I've said, at each of them, that the hands never lie. I've joked and casually mentioned that 'stressed out crazy woman spinning' is really best left to bulky wgt yarns because the hands are a sort portal for such tension and it WILL show up in your yarn. Still, I have not listened to me! LOL.

So in a place of totally neurotic stress after a completely long and trying day and in front of a not so relaxing movie with the the kids, I, naturally, jumped into my 'spice trade' batts in the hopes of making a gleaming Navajo Plied sock wgt. yarn. I was actually very excited about it and the idea of getting to spin these batts was sort of my personal reward to myself for making it through said day of trial and testing without succumbing to my deep desire to take the apples and oranges out of the fruit drawer and hide in a corner of the room that would give me greatest advantage and start lobbing them at people randomly and whilst wildly cackling. I'm trying this whole 'growing up' concept out, though, so such outbreaks of looniness are kind of not part of that life plan. I mean, there's a good deal of silk in there so, you know, it has an almost immediately soothing aspect to it. Then, there's like maybe 6 or 7 shades of greens with all manner of spicy sari silk additions and some peaks of other colors to make it, well, spicey. There was serious spillage of sparkle as well and I can only say - ya'll - sparkles do alot for a person who is grinding their teeth and unable to focus and see without growling like a rabid cat. It was a good plan, non?

Apparently, I ~~freaking seriously~~ slightly overlooked how much time I'd need to feel the effects of the batty yumminess and started spinning like a madwoman. Oh, was I making haste in getting through those batts! Ah, yes.....(she says as she twitches and spasms and spins like a crazed lunatic) it was over before I knew it. So, I did what any ~~deranged~~ slightly excited person would do and set right to plying them as well. Now, I will admit that whilst n-plying them, I did realize I was a little to fast and twisty and, well, deranged. But, I was on this lovely trip down the denial river (the scenery is awesome there - just sayin') so I just kept right on going - sure that the kinky string part was just my imagination. Okay, they were plied in a snap - I went to bed and woke excited to skein them up right away. And.....brt brt brrrrrr! I took them off the skeinwinder and....uh.....cried very loudly! Woe! Woe! I think I messed it up.

So, after crying for a while, I decided to try to fix it. I ran it back through the wheel 'unplying' it. Only, so deeply in regret for mucking it up in the first place, I, of course, overdid the whole 'fix it' thing and, essentially, un-plied it. Urgh. Woe! Woe! So, I ran it through again (hmmmmm...this is really saving lots of time, isn't it?) and finally got it to something that resembles yarn. I love it. I love the colors, love the spices, and love the feel of it. I'm willing to love even it's small flaws of looser parts here and there, of skinny pieces where I really mucked up the 'fixing' it job, and I've really only learned one thing I didn't know before - liars shouldn't n-ply. LOL. If you're used to being able to spin any yarn you want even on the ugliest of days, and you overlook the semi-finality of Navajo Plying - you could end up like me - a total neurotic sobbing mess. Consider yourself warned:)

Back to the socks, please.....

2010-01-12T16:22:00.003-05:00

The more I roll into this year - the more I'm liking it already. I've been missing sock knitting quite a bit this last half of 2009 - too busy and frantic to stay faithful to one project - I've been bouncing all over the place casting on with wild abandon here - wishing for more hours in the day to work on 'insert name of project there' etc. etc. and never really getting to the 'ah, a finished piece' satisfaction. So, combining these two issues - I've worked out a deal with myself. I'm allowing myself to only be actively working on three projects at a time. No, that doesn't mean I'll be frogging all the other WIPs or anything - I just won't pretend to be working on them like I am now, follow me? LOL, me neither! The three projects I will pretend to be working on should go something like this:
1. Something I'm really jazzed about and can't/won't put down without pouting. This is the candy part - the bone that keeps the dog's tail wagging - or knitting - you get my point.
2. A WIP that I'm pulling off the dusty shelves and finishing so it can haunt me no more. You know, we've all got em - I'm just looking to have less of them come summer:)
3. Just socks. I just need sock knitting in some part of my day. Really, I do. It makes me feel comforted, safe, like I could roll up into a little ball and still be able to take that project with me. It's a cup of coffee and a comfy chair in a obscure corner of the bookstore on a Saturday afternoon whilst the kids are on their many important teen life errands for me. I just have to have it.

So, finally, after so many people have asked me to - I've started a sock yarn club to be a yarn lover's companion to my Happy Hooves Batt Club for spinner love. January was our first month and as I packaged up all the babies to ship them out this week - I was tickled to giggling like a silly girl that I'd been smart enough to factor myself into the tally and give myself a club shipment. Wanna see them? Well, they start with yarn but that's on the inside and we'll get there in a minute. I wanted this club to be a little different - a love and spoiling club for sock knitters. So, in addition to the skein of yarn - each month has some sort of 'treat' that I make up - the treat varying depending on the type of sock yarn used, etc. This month, I made these velvet embroidered wrist sock bags to go with the yarn. Oh, yeah, the yarn....

The hooves batt colorway this month was 'Vila' (spelled Veela in the Harry Potter series) and so is the yarn. All blue, all kinds of blue is sort of the theme here though I did sprinkle some accent colors in there which you can see if you look close enough or, in my case, wrap in around your head and yell happy songs because you love blue. I'm playing around with lots of techniques of dyeing with this club and trying to change and mix them for my own dyeing pleasure. I may have gotten a wee bit neurotic with this one (me, noooooo!LOL) because even though it was a kettle dye - which should mean it is very simple and basic - I managed to make it hard, time intensive, and put it into four different kettles to achieve an absolutely vivid palette of blue...with spices.

I'm thinking of making Cookie A's 'Calloway' pattern with these - the side-winding slant of the openwork in the pattern just sort of beg to be done in a water themed yarn...will there be beads? Oh no - I just thought of this problem (glances at the 'rules' at the top of the page). Okay, rules are made to be broken and I'm so obviously casting on this yarn ~~as we speak~~ very soon so a new WIP is born. Ooops. Now, which of the great 3 will it be? I mean, #2 is right out but which is it - 1 or 3? Urgh....this is why I don't make rules for or against myself....I'm too good at figuring out ways to get around them - or just perfectly okay with just abandoning them at the first chance of fun.

Marinating on the Concept....

2010-01-08T09:20:00.002-05:00

I know, I know, everyone is over the New Year and I'm tragically late coming to the 'oh, geez, it's a new year now' post but - well, there it is. I needed a little more time to marinate on the year behind, the year ahead, and the year already underway (I know the last two are the same in one but go with me a minute here, would you?). The year behind was a little bamboozling and not entirely in a bad or great way - just with a sort of balance that leaves you standing there at the end of it all going, "hmmm, so how would you characterize that?" but not really having a full and logical answer.

On the one hand, 09 was just chock full of some of the most brutal sorts of changes - the most shocking for me being leaving our farm/homestead and rejoining the grid living/blender using/washer and dryer wielding world. So, naturally, because I am a wimp and all, I want to avoid opening that jar and looking inside. I've been feeling a little guilty lately - avoiding the blog even- because I'm having trouble doing just that. I'm glad, actually, that I took a little time before doing so. It takes a bit to gain perspective on such changes and since the summer just seemed to be a whirlwind of changes, changes and 'oh, hey, you thought you were done - here's another bowling ball coming your way' changes. Adapting has never been much of a problem for me but actually accepting that there is a need to adapt - well, there's where I fall short. It seemed like over night but I know that is partially due to that 'failing to notice a need to adapt' issue - LOL.

So, in a matter of months, we moved, we learned how to be 'normal' again. We squealed at the joys of doing a load of laundry, we flirted with excess - and then found a common ground so that we could exist in the 'norm' and still be conserving enough to live with ourselves. We dismantled the family unit entirely and are slowly reconstructing the ' we' that we will be moving forward. That was one of those I didn't really WANT to see so it's still a little tender. We went from a group of people who were working together - every day/all day just to meet the needs of survival, to opening wide the doors and letting everyone settle into roles that they needed/wanted/dreamed for themselves. It was scary at times, exhilarating at others, and full of moments wherein we discovered who we are at the heart of things and found joy in just being. I've been handling the farm business on my own for a few months,now while the huscreature embarks on new journeys of his own and that is a refreshing change. There is, indeed, such a thing as too much of a good thing - and neither of us is really suited to spending ALL day ALL the time with another. We're both fiercely independent and while working on the homestead together was, at times, really sweet and sort of a pinnacle of happiness - it was also, at times, not so much. We needed the space a while ago and now it's not entirely clear just how much space we'll need to make things work....another lesson I learned against my will in 2009 - not all outcomes are evident. Next to awareness of a need to change, you could scribble 'walking the paths of uncertainty' as my second worst challenge. I like order. I like solidity. I tend to pull toward things you can count on no matter what. In short, I live in a fantasy world most of the time LOL. But, again, to every feeling of 'oh no, can this really be?' there is a full and joyful antidote. Things 1,2, and 3 are thriving in our new home! They are involved, in just these few short months, already is so many new and exciting ventures ranging from extra curricular activities at the school, to karate classes to music ventures, to a multitude of other happenings that are a sure and happy sign that they are settling into their new community very well. As it would turn out, they were the ones I was most worried about being able to adjust to leaving the only place they could really remember calling 'home' and they've done what kids do - adjusted, evolved, and thrived more than ever. It would be the adults who've had a slower progression toward adaption.

But then, you know, I read this over and I feel like just deleting the whole thing and wonder if writing a blog whilst suffering a nasty chest cold is murking up the view and making me whiney. Because, I don't want to be. Because even though there are tough spots - the bright spots are pretty freaking magnificent. I got a chance to travel, to meet many beautiful people, and to continue doing what I love while raising the three beautiful people I call Things 1,2 and 3. I mean, how can you top that?

So, I've thought about it enough, let some things set for a while to gain a clearer perspective on them, and now I'm ready to put the lid on 2009 and start collecting fresh hopes, ideas, dreams and adventures for 2010. You knew I'd get there, didn't you? I just needed a few extra days. Now, is it too late to open the champagne?

For a Friend....

2009-12-28T12:42:00.002-05:00

I hope ya'll had a great holiday - we enjoyed some pretty good times together and the kids were thrilled with their knits gifts - all of which I will show you but not today. Today, I'm just here for a minute because I'm feeling sort of quiet right now. Yesterday, we said goodbye to a very dear friend - our cherished and ooberly friendly herd matron, first named #2 by Thing 3 so many years ago when she came here and he could not yet read and remember lots of names so we named all the ewes by the tags they wore from their old farm home and later named "Miss Marple". We found her passed peacefully in her sleep.

The worst part about losing an animal is pretty much every part of it. I think we humans naturally want to accept responsibility for the deaths of our animal friends - it's part of the dance we sign on for when we choose to accept responsibility for the care of creatures who are vulnerable without our tending. But, this particular one really hits home in the heart place, if you know what I mean. We're not entirely surprised - there were little things we noticed late in the summer. Little things that marked that age was starting to catch up to our old girl. Usually first at the grain or hay, it started to take a much longer time for her to come in from the field, etc. We intervened some - giving her some vitamin supplements and making sure she got that 'extra' loving spoonful of food and drink but we knew what it meant - her age was finally starting to catch up to her.

#2 was an amazing lady. She escaped certain death a few times - one of which being the time she was separated from the herd at our old place during a storm and got lost in the woods. We searched for days - cried our eyes out, and were sick to our stomachs at the thought of her wandering out there, alone. After a few days - we sadly gave up hope and mourned her certain loss. Later on the afternoon of the fourth day, we heard a bahhhhing coming up the driveway. Coated in mud, twigs all matted in her curls, and obviously dehydrated, exhausted and hungry - #2 came shouting down the driveway and we all just stood and stared in amazement/gratitude/tears.

She was the leader, undeniably of the herd. The babes listened to her commands even over their mums, and the ewes knew who to consult if there was a decision to be made. She was also the most personable ewe in the herd - the sort of go between between the ewes and the humans - making sure we all stayed on the same page and kept things running smoothly. I don't know how we'll manage without her now, I really don't. I do know, though, that I sit here with tears running down my face and a hollow feeling wondering if I'll ever stop missing her bright eyes, her friendly nudge at my hand asking for a pet - and her unfailing knack for tipping a coffee cup out of your hands and then innocently suggesting that now that your hand IS empty, there's a need of a scratch just behind her ear...yeah....right there.

She lived well. She taught us much. And she rests, now.

Crappy Virgin Weaving

2009-12-12T09:47:00.003-05:00

I've always sort of been a rule follower. By that, I mean that I am often ridiculed, mocked, and regarded as ridiculous in my family unit because I will actually read and employ a manual in putting together something like a microwave cart (though, I'm still too rebelliously hippie-granola health food huggin to actually own a microwave - scratches head about why she has that dumb microwave cart anyway LOL). I use my blinkers when turning left or right (thanks to all of those who don't and drive me to a foaming rage on country roads when I wait to turn onto the highway and they are, in fact, turning right just before me but are too lazy/mean/hateful to signal it so I could go ahead and go). I budget and add my grocery tally as I'm walking through the store - just to be sure I've not forgotten something that is on the list - and I never go without a list. In these ways, I am entirely geeky and rule following.

This is more than evident in my first weaving project on the kromski harp heddle loom. I mean, I did hear over and over again that the most common beginner's mistake was that they draw the yarn too tight at the end of each pass and cause tucking in their woven stuffs. So, naturally, I went to all lengths possible to not make that mistake and, unfortunately, will go down in the hall of weaving shame as one of the true dorks who was so afraid to make a mistake that she royally screwed the whole thing up by leaving too much space and yarn at the ends and, therefore, having a saggy/sorry scarf at the end. Urgh....the lengths I go to to avoid sliding on the learning curve only to end up on my face anyway.

When I took the scarf off the loom, I was first horrified and then I had to chuckle because it recalled a memory of a time I was sent to Mother Mary's office at our catholic academy. Actually, who am I kidding - I was sent there alot. But, this particular time it was pretty bad. I had broken a pretty serious rule but, in my defense, I felt totally justified in my rebellion. We were supposed to have given up sweet breakfast cereals for Lent and I was caught sharing a baggie of marshmallows I'd sat up the night before under the kitchen table carefully picking out of the Lucky Charms box with - get this - a boy. It's all more sinister than it sounds and, ya'll, I was set up. First of all, I didn't want to give up breakfast cereal - on account of it was my morning ritual. Our class voted every year and we had to give up the same thing. First, they suggested all breakfast cereal but my teacher was a cunning little fox and realized that her breakfast flakes were not to be trifled with so she suggested switching it to sweet and sugary breakfast cereals. I was instantly enraged.

I'm not passionate about breakfast cereal anymore but, during my childhood, it was sort of the chronicle of my life - my album of memories. My mother hated breakfast - and I honestly can't remember ever eating anything she cooked for breakfast. Her remedy for failing in this motherly task was to guilelessly ply us with all the fascinating cereals we saw on our Saturday morning cartoon commercials. Consequently, I have many memories of things that happened while I was eating a certain cereal: the day Elvis died and I heard it on the radio - Fruit Loops, my 6th birthday when I was crying because we were headed to my Great Grandma's funeral - Lucky Charms.

I'd held out as long as I could but cheerios with no sugar were really starting to irk me - especially when my own family was chock full of people who gave something up for Lent and then continually broke that vow like it meant nothing. I decided it was time for me to stop following the rules. So, I hatched a plan, took only the marshmallows out of the cereal (cuz, if you're going to go to hell, you might as well only eat the good parts, eh?) which, by flashlight under the kitchen table took quite a while, I'll tell you, and set out to school the next morning with a sense of purpose and a will of steel. I showed the marshmallows to my friend, Billy - and we went outside and ravaged the whole bag. Yes, I was a tomboy so my friends were mostly boys. I felt a particular sting to my reprimand when the behavior report suggested that I was committing sin WITH A BOY. Like, sugar cereal, Lent breaking, and sexuality were naturally all linked for two 8 year olds.

The thing about me is that, while I naturally am inclined to follow the rules - when I am so disinclined - it generally gets pretty nasty. I walked into the Head Mother's office knowing she'd peer at me all serious like - shun me, and probably mutter something nasty on my way out about the hopelessness of being born to a teenage mother and how I was likely doomed to be evil. And, even though I was shaking, I was pretty resolute that I was entirely justified in my rebelling. I mean, what kind of teacher gets to insure that her own preferences are allowed but can single-handedly destroy the dietary pleasures of another and not even blink an eye? And, most of my small classroom were bringing in all sorts of homemade things their mother's were making for them whilst they were muddling through this great sacrifice. Me? I got a box of bran flakes and cheerios and a 'good luck, kid'. No biscuits, no pastries, no cocoa puffs - I was ready to fight:)
MM: J - I see here that you did your morning prayers, your rosaries, and you helped Father J cleaning the candles and altars?
ME: mmmhm (squiggling but still resolute)
MM: And your grade report out yesterday shows all high marks and good behavior?
ME: mmhmmm
MM: And, do you know what this says to me?
ME: rolling my eyes inwardly but starting to feel a little nervous
MM: This says to me, this is a pretty well behaved child. Yet, here you are in my office for none other than breaking Lent during morning mass with a BOY.
ME: trying to crawl under the table to escape her steely gaze...
MM: In spite of the many reasons why you could justifiably not be, J - you are a very obedient child. Still, you have one shortcoming...you have an unfortunately willful disposition. She leans in and smiles like a viper about to eat your soul through your shirt.....And I'm going to help you with that. We're going to spend the remainder of the term breaking that will.

Well, I just snapped. I smiled, apologized for my crime, and inwardly resolved to be a hardened criminal from there on out. If she wanted a battle of the wills - hey- I was sugar deprived and feeling mean so bring it on. The first round of punishment was so lame and regular I had come to despise even the mention of it - a bathroom monitor. We weren't allowed in the bathrooms during recess because the nuns were all outside watching us so we didn't do anything horrible and the idea that a boy and a girl might end up going in at the same time without supervision was a hideous thought. So, we had to go to the bathroom during class. Walk embarrassingly up to the front, ask for a pass (duh, so all your classmates can snicker because you have to go to the bathroom) and then be released to answer the call of nature. Bathroom monitors only added to this humiliation. This process would be enhanced by someone being chosen aloud in front of everyone to go with you, stand outside your stall, and verify upon return to class that you actually did have to go pee.

I found being a rebel suited my thinking far more than I'd ever realized. I faked a desperate illness in the bathroom stall and sent my monitor for the teacher which she ran for. I then took off my shoes, placed them as if I was on the toilet, crawled out from under the stall, and went to the gym, where I sat in the stands just on the other side of the bathrooms, listening to the horror exclaimed when no child was found, no one could get under the stall door, the janitor had to be called in to unlock it, etc. etc. Finally, someone burst into the gym by accident and cried out loudly, "she's in here". Mother Mary walked in and the purple expression on her face was just the confidence booster I needed to keep up the good fight.

That resulted in all my recesses being suspended and me having chores to do instead. I had to clean the pews, which I did - but I put all the hymnals in their slots upside down and replaced their gold leaf bookmarks with shreds of newspaper I'd torn from the daily news. On that one, I thought she was going to kill me. Still, even Father J remarked at how dutifully I'd cleaned, polished, and vacuumed around the pews.

Next, the chores were assigned for me to be her 'buddy' doing my time in her office with her everyday. I stratified my rebellion - spending the first few days seeming totally devoted to winning her praise - doing every job to the best of my ability and winning her trust a piece at a time until, by the end of the week, she had me licking envelopes for her personal correspondences and really important things like personal notes to Father J (they worked and lived in the same parish but she still typed him a letter, sent a notecard with a quote on it, and reminded him of things to be done every week). On this, I decided it was time to break my record and show her my horrible will again. On the card, which was of the Virgin Mary, I place a happy face sticker that she sent out to the teachers every week with an angel smiling happily and saying, 'it is good to be good' on the bottom of it right smack in the middle of Mary's face. On Monday, she called me in for chore time and sat me at a desk with Father J's card on it, pacing angrily and turning all sorts of shades of pink while she walked back and forth shaking her hands and fuming but still saying nothing. Then, she let me go.

We went on like this for a couple of months before term let out. Me doing my tasks with the utmost care and occasionally doing something totally dumb just to irritate her and her trying to keep me busy enough that I didn't have time to think of anything dumb to do. By about two weeks before term was over for summer, she called me into a meeting with her, my mother, the priest, and my favorite nun Sister Mary Theresa. She paced. She fumed. She finally spoke, "I have tried, Father, to work with this child but her mind boggles me still. Her will is wild and dangerous, yet she appears just as anything evil would as obedient as can be at times. I am clean out of ideas as to how to deal with her anymore and am losing hope that she can be guided in any direction, let alone down the path of goodness."

My mother coughed but I swear she was laughing. Sister Mary Theresa protested that she'd only ever known me to be a good and kindly child. And Father J concurred that he'd seen me blossoming over the years into a fine prospect for a life in the church, which caused her pacing to falter and I swear she nearly fell over. He kindly suggested that maybe there was some way to work this out. Then he looked over at me and said, "J, is there some way you can think of to work things out?"

I smiled at him because I always smiled at him - he was the sweetest man I've ever known and could make you feel happy even when things seemed the most glum. "Well," I said timidly because the initial thought horrified me, "we could try a truce and just be friends."

Father J laughed and clapped his hands and declared that a good idea. My mom smiled, Sister MT beamed and hugged me and doted on what a good and loving child I was, and Mother Mary looked at me like I was the spawn of evil but agreed that a truce was the only viable solution. The following Monday, and every day thereafter through the remainder of that school year, I showed up to her office for chore time instead of recess. She reminded me the first time that I didn't have to anymore but I explained that I rather liked working in the office and her desk was awfully untidy and I thought she needed the help. I cleaned, licked envelopes, and though I had the inclination more than once to do something like put the baby Jesus on her trophy of the Christening face down instead of up or put a donkey in her nativity statue arrangement on the head of one of the wise men, I resisted and just helped her tidy things up. Years later, after we'd long since moved away and I requested a transcript from the academy for college, she'd signed the transcript and written me a letter of recommendation in which she judged me "entirely competent in all things" and " brilliant nearly to the point of it being unhealthy" and, lastly, "good in heart but woefully willful"

So then November went away.....

2009-12-04T16:08:00.002-05:00

and I'm not sure I will miss it much. Not that November was particularly bad or anything - it was just.very.gray. LOL. I love me some gray and think the every many variations of light and dark gray are totally stunning. Heck, throw some silver sparkle in it and I'll come running with my tail wagging (yes, it is big enough to wag...pass the chocolate please). But, after days and days of it, grey starts to look kind of limiting. You know, it's a short walk from just a touch over silver to gray to uth-oh, that's black and not gray at all and then, well, you're kind of bored with it. I think that pretty much sums up how November looked...and went.

But, at least I got a little gift knitting attended to. And, for some reason I cannot explain, the forces at be have granted my wish and I have managed to finish COMPLETELY all the 'bought' gifts for the upcoming holidays. I KNOW - me - ahead AND prepared. It's scary, a little, isn't it? The first gift knit is out of the way. Thing 3 has long since outgrown his knightly baklava in both size and the fact that he's double digits now and believes wearing a knitted hat that looks like armor is silly little kid stuff. So, I took this gorgeous 'Myrtle' roving from Boogie's Spunky Club (it's an over-dyed oatmeal bfl with dark, rich colors, mmmmm) and paired it with a 'chai' batt and whipped him up a new one - a better one (psst...you knew I'd be quoting Jack Sparrow in here somewhere since I'm still waiting on the sexiest pirate alive to come and steal me from my real life - LOL). He's going to love these colors and while I'm trying to look like I'm ahead of the game in all areas - let me just confess that still on the knit list for him are mittens, another simple hat, and a cowl plus, in my wild fantasies, a pair of socks. Yeah...right....just when I start having miracle grow shakes for breakfast and sprout 8 arms:) Still, one has to aspire to the impossible from time to time and living in the lap of luxuries like running water, electricity, and a road that is passable in the wet month of November has sort of spoiled me in the reaching for the impossible department....I guess I needed to stretch those muscles again.

It is the small gift I give myself for what I have stopped calling the Holidays and now refer to as the season of the dreaded swatch. Swatching, to me, is a practice only of obligation. I feel obligated to make sure a thing I make for someone else will fit. For myself? I will often forgo swatching and just dive right in, adjusting the fit as I go along. Gift knitting means swatching. Urgh.

So, I laugh at myself and then I ask the eternal question, "why do you despise swatching?" I think it's because of the whole impracticality of it. I mean, a little square? Why can't we swatch in the form of something that can be used? I know a square can be used for many things like a patchwork blanket, an ipod cover, a coaster, etc. but I'm not really interested in changing my behavior (lol), I only want to distract myself by looking at it. So, to comfort myself, I knit a garter stitch rectangle instead. Because, you know, I'm just ornery, I guess. I called it a bookmark and put a bead on the end of it and that made me feel better (neurotic much?) Then, I got into a garter stitch groove and whipped out this little ensemble for Thing 1. The headband (left), cowl(middle - scored the leather buttons at the craft store the other day and squealed out loud in front of many people) and the cuff of the mitts are from the 'angelfish' colorway in David's SCF Fibre Club. Then, I pulled out some farm raised 'Gold Dust Woman' yarn and some yarn I made from my 'gypsy' batts and made the rest of the mitts. Whew! I happily put a big check next to 1. cowl 2. mitts and 3.headband for Thing 1. Now, let's just stay in a positive place with this giftie because - don't fall over laughing or anything - but I already have her socks knit (they are the gold dust woman socks from the last post) and the only other things I wanted to knit her were leg warmers and a hat. I might still make it if I just can get by on 2 hrs. of sleep a night. Wish me luck - as I have no intention of not trying. I mean, what would that do? Save my sanity (yes, I have some)? Allow me to function like a living human being instead of a droid who's wiring is faulty? Ha ha aha ha...why would I want to do that? nah...I'm going to try to get them done, still.

Thing 1 is in the desperate zone, though. So far, his mittens remain unchecked. His hat is only just begun and has the same ribbing as this cowl so I didn't bother taking another pic of it - you'll just have to trust me. His sweater is barely there and his birthday and holiday socks are laughable but - I have Christmas in my heart (and snowflakes blinding out all traces of reality) and I believe I may get some of it done.

In short, every year I vow in January that I will either give up on gift knitting or become a more practical and evolved thinker and actually start knitting way in advance. Both are clearly fantasy. It just isn't likely that I'll give up on gift knitting any time soon. The truth is that even though I will probably cry in January the first time someone asks my kids if their mom knit that hat and need to go in the bathroom and splash water on my face and stop foaming at the mouth whilst remember the days leading up to the season of the dreaded swatch when I walk around with my knitting in my hands ALL THE TIME....feeling guilty if I take a long hot bath or something silly like that when I could be knitting (insert recipient's name here)'s mittens, I am strangely attached the the whole race and I don't see myself stopping any time soon. And, the whole planning ahead thing, I am finding, is not really all its cracked up to be. Sure, I don't have to head out to the shops or pay hefty shipping costs to acquire those things on the wishlist because I spent a few days in November getting all the freaking shopping out of the way so my Saturdays are still my own apart from taxiing teenagers all over the place - but, with the gift knitting, I think I kind of need the thrill, the pressure, the total craziness of it all. I guess I'm choosing those special moments when I have to rip something back and I sit down with my needles in my hand and actually carry on a conversation with them - asking them if they know how many hours of knitting we just screwed up and asking them to express some degree of accountability for the problem. That's totally normal, right?

Wintah!

2009-11-05T15:34:00.002-05:00

Yep, winter is definitely coming. I knew it yesterday. Well, actually, I knew it all along but yesterday was just too easy for an early November day. Balmy, warm temps, ample sunshine, and a cool breeze that made the dried leaves in the front yard rattle as they blew along the lawn until they were smashed into a building or seized upon by a playful kitty in the grass. Then, this morning, winter put her hand(you know, that gentle but firm grip she has) on my shoulder and squeezed ever so tightly. It started like this - just a spit of fine white powder falling blissfully on the ground and magically evaporating and all was well. Only, such a change gets the sheep all riled up and those who are inclined to misbehave (cough - the merinos - cough) set out to find a way out of the fence. It seems they determined the fence was the cause of the snow. So, Things 1,2 and 3 and I had to round them up and tuck them into the barn until they eat lots of hay and calm down and regain their senses. The hay part works wonders in that process. It seems to have the same effect that a good glass of merlot has on me...mmmm....ahhhhh....there, now, everything will be all right. They are now sleeping in the barn. I guess they've decided that's just about all the excitement they need for the day - LOL.

Before that bit of excitement - which, I must say, is significantly amped up in adrenaline now that we are not 1 mile off the road but on a major route and the way they found out was roadside - wahhhhh!, I was going to come here and show you my FO. I know, and FO! Miracles never cease:) I finally finished those Lindsay socks from Cookie's book and I absolutely love them. Of course I do - they are intended to be a gift for someone. Urgh! Nonetheless, the pattern is awesome. Super easy stitch pattern that you memorize in a snap and happily knit away on your socks yet you still get this fancy stitch work. I'm so into that! They fit like they were made just for me - Cinderella complex much? so I just know they will be a big hit for a certain gold loving girl this coming Christmas. The yarn, by the way, is our Super wash Sock Yarn in the 'Gold Dust Woman' colorway. I'm in love with all kinds of hand-dyed sock yarns but for a pattern like this one, there was no contest - a good semi-solid did the trick.

I couldn't let my poor sock project bag sit alone and empty too long and the November mystery sock for the SKA Sockdown features mosaic knitting so I was instantly hooked. Since I had the honor of taking Barbara Walker's mosaic knitting class at Sock Summit, I've been meaning to knit some mosaic socks but just haven't gotten around to it yet so this KAL was just the inspiration I needed. I coupled two of my Super wash Sock Yarn colorways - "Chai" and "Emerald Lake" and I love the colorplay that is resulting. I'm all done with this clue and desperately wanting the next one to come out.

Here's my handsome boy as the day comes to a close. He finds the camera silly and fascinating. I walk out to the porch and he immediately comes over to say hello....until the flash, at which point he turns and walks the other way - shaking his mane and tail to let me know just how silly he thinks I am - LOL.

LOST AT SEA....

2009-10-18T15:01:00.002-04:00

That's kind of how the last few months have been going - just tossing back and forth with the waves, thinking you spot a bit of land ahead and paddling like mad only to discover you've still got a way to go - LOL. I've been meaning to surface and breath for a while but keep putting it off because I have just too much neat stuff to show you. So, I'm biting the bullet. Conquering the beast, so to speak. Jumping in head first - tackling all the stuff I've been holding off on posting thinking, "I can't blog today, I need more time so I can show them (insert name of billionty things I wanted to show you here) - here we go....

There was the annual fun at one of our favorite events, the Common Ground Fair. It was a great year - Saturday boasting gorgeous sunny weather and lots of interesting things to captivate the interest of just about everyone in the family. I, of course, headed straight over to the fleece tent. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking - she has a whole herd of sheep - what on earth does she go to the fleece tent for? Well, I do have my reasons. Hmmmm.....let me think....uh...well, it usually starts as a trek out of the booth to go to the 'ladies' room....which happens to be past the fleece tent so there's virtually NO WAY to avoid the tent other than walking around it on the outside and thereby never seeing the yummy stuffs inside. I mean, that would just be crazy! Also, it was that there was this seductive voice (which I later found was hidden in this bag of prize winning gorgeous buttery yummy crimpy beyond imagination and utterly luscious merino fleece) that just made me need to be there. I completely lost control and bought it right away. In my defense, did you notice that gorgeous clean crimpy goodness? Well, if you couldn't see it, let's move that pile of ribbons out of the way so you can really pet it's buttery sweetness with your eyes....see? You know you would have done it, too - LOL.

After that, there was much craziness about the farm and some shop stuff and some spinning and knitting and - oh - I can't believe I didn't tell you that I got to take an afternoon class at a LYS with LUCY NEATBY. Yeah! A class on trims and bobbles and little whats-its that you can put on your knitting to make it look just as crazy as you are. What a perfect concept for me, non? There was some colorwork and trims. This one is a poor student - totally unblocked and shoved into the bottom of my knitting back, which it didn't deserve but I will blame that on the cruel lack of coffee I'd had that day. We finished the class with many laughs and this little trick - holey knitting! I cannot tell you how tickled I get with holey knitting. I mean, it's got the batman and robin thing all over it and being a child of the 70's, I am totally willing to giggle about that alone. Then, it's got the whole 'conquering conformity and fear and freeing your inner rebel' aspect to it. You know, what do you learn to fear above all else when you first learn to knit? Those darned holes that just seem to be determined to pop up in your first sweater in a very unflattering spot, or in the hat you made that keeps you warm except for that one tiny hole over your ear that lets a draft through and makes you crazy. Or, gasp, the sock that has so many of your lovely stitches poured into it only to have a silly hole in the gusset or something. Oh, woe! Do we learn to shiver at the mention of holes. Lucy, as you may well already know, it all about breaking up the fear monster and letting the knitting happen in spite of the conventional wisdom that says, 'this is the way it's done'. Holey knitting, I think I totally like it!

I'm sure I'm leaving too many things out but that is what happens when you put something off thinking you'll do it better if you wait until the 'perfect' moment to do it just right. Boy, oh boy am I hearing that message loud and clear in my world right now - how about you? There has been some knitting, though. I finished this lovely little shawl last week. It's a simple garter stitch heart shaped shawl - my own creation and a totally 'organic' knit meaning I was too lazy to write down the recipe so - sighs - I guess I'll have to make it again:) It's so hard to be me.... The garter stitch section is from my handspun gypsy batts and the lacey bottom is from handspun roving in the Marie Laveau colorway. It was a beautiful shawl and I loved it much but it came off the needles in curious coincidence with a time that was utterly painful and devastating in someone else's life so I took that as a sign that they were really made for each other. I'm hoping it's bringing her some comfort through the storms.

So, how have you been?

Then there's the spinning......

2009-09-13T17:34:00.004-04:00

I learned a long time ago that trying to mask my feelings was tricky business. I'm just one of those people that, well, you can pretty much tell what I'm thinking or, more aptly, when I'm not (which is slightly more common). My expressions just tend to pin-point EXACTLY how I'm reacting on the inside and reflect them on the outside. It's no big deal, really, as I also tend not to be a person who cares to hide my feelings/thoughts/ideas anyway but, one does have to admit that there are advantages to not having certain people in certain instances know exactly what you are thinking at that certain moment. That's where my unmasked all the time problem really gets me. LOL. But, I am getting better at some control over it - only there's always the spinning.

Spinning, for me, is like breathing. It is the thing I do to feel better regardless of where I am on that spectrum to begin with. Already thrilled to pieces? Spin. You will hit an orgasmic level of happy fumes that will keep you smiling much longer than otherwise. See here, just look at this yarn, for instance. You can tell that this spin brought me MUCH joy. The Gold Dust Woman on the right is about 320 yds of sport wgt bliss in a 3.2 oz skein and the Titania on the left is a 300 yd, also sport wgt. pillow of merino/corrie/cotswold cross bliss with silk and happy stuffs all crammed in there. Woot. That's some glass running over with happy right there!

Not so thrilled but feeling like you'd maybe tear yourself into a 1,000 pieces and scream like a wild beast? Spinning calms me right down when I might otherwise be thrown into some raving/raging pool of unhappiness. It gives me quiet, peaceful moments to reflect on things, come to terms with the things I cannot influence with my super-human (or not, heh!) powers, and gain a fresh perspective/tactic on how to move forward to a better solution. Purple is always good for that - a color that makes you feel strong and at peace with yourself and all that's going on around you. For a darker mood, there's the black. This was a blend of my Araucana/Phoenix rovings - so it resulted in this oober decadent black/red/green shiny stuff that feels pillow soft and makes me want to give it a boyfriend name and keep it next to me forever. I suspect the huscreature would complain but, meh, he'd probably get over it.

How about just down right blue and feeling exhausted from being exhausted and wanting to crawl into your bed and sleep but you have kids/jobs/life that means you cannot sleep just now so you find a way to squeeze in a few moments at the wheel when you should be unpacking and spin a while? Ahhhhh.....I understand that, I think. For that, you may have to go hunting for something really warm and spicy to simmer the cockles of your heart and get you smiling again. Well, that and a cup of coffee couldn't hurt, either. Chocolate, of course, it a complete given. This Red Dirt Girl will surely do the trick. We had this roving in the shop two updates ago and it quickly found loving homes. Red Dirt Girl is all about warm, spicy red and russets dancing with each other over a sparkle here and there and just feeling really good. These two worsted wgt skeins weigh (combined) about 5 ozs and total 390 yds. of 2 ply farm-grown loveliness that almost smells like a warm cup of chai.

Or, if you're just spinning to spin because you've got the laundry going, dinner cooking and the kids are keeping you from the computer with barred fangs and drool dripping from their lips because they are in the middle of something SO IMPORTANT and you have the audacity to want to use the computer so you decide, instead, to sneak off and get some spinning fun done - any ole color will do. Something peaceful and graceful and demure like these sparkly fairy dust skeins from the roving we had in the shop a month or so ago. I blended some of them with one strand of plain white fiber to tone down their sparkle and left the two in the rear in their true Fairy Dust state to sparkle the night away. There's about 750 yds. there.

So, clearly, despite my attempts to disguise the fact that moving a farm, settling in family and critters whilst still preparing for shows and keeping the food on the table, and preparing for winter MAY have had a little 'push' factor to my stress buttons, the spinning doth give me away! This is about 10 days worth of spinning and it is also, curiously, my explanation as to why the living room is still decorated with brown cardboard box tables. I mean, can you blame me? What would you do - unpack or spin?

It didn't help that Ms. Boogie sent out her Spunky Club offering of 'Beach Day' just before I left for Sock Summit. I couldn't wait to touch it so I spun it up the night before I left but never did get around to plying it. The other day, determined to unpack and make my living room look like a real room, I started emptying boxes and, somehow, I must have known I would do something so crazy and, therefore, when packing I prepared a 'surprise' in the box of the kids' games, school supplies, etc. of the two 'Beach Day' bobbins. Yaw-hoooo! I squealed and headed off to the wheel to ply them directly. I mean, look at that blend of merino/bamboo/shiny stuffs of beauty! Can you blame me? 250 yards of worsted wgt oozy puffy yarn later, I am thinking mitts for me for the coming fall. Shut up, I know that Fall is really almost already here (especially for those of us up in the wilds of Maine) but please don't tell me that until next week when I've finished picking the cucumbers, canning tomatoes, helping with the Fall shearing (dang, there's that f-word again), and am completely caught up on the laundry, have mopped the floor, and have at least swiped the unclaimed but folded laundry off of the couch. Why is it that when they want a shirt clean - they can walk around guilting you out FOR DAYS that they didn't have their 'lucky' shirt on their big day but when you wash EVERYTHING in the hamper, they will inevitably leave a stack here and there of clothes that they 'claim' are not theirs? Is it some sort of mind game that I just don't get or am I really starting to be haunted by shirts and mis-matched socks?

Now, I know this is going to surprise you but, ahem, in addition to the aforementioned stress relieving spinning - there was a jaunt of retail therapy to sooth the jangled nerves a bit. I fell into my cart over at the Loopy Ewe and I'm so glad I snatched this cutey bag from 3AM Enchantments up when I saw it because it was out of stock the next day. Look at those sweet sheep! I grabbed a few more Hiya Hiya needles, too - but the bag was my happy place for sure. Keri of 3AM Enchantments is a skilled woman who does real magic with her sewing machine. Seriously. The bags are sturdy, beautiful, and expertly constructed. I couldn't resist balling up some of my 'Gold Dust Woman' sock yarn (the 90/10 superwash sock)and casting on some Lindsey socks RIGHT AWAY to welcome the new bag. They are very happy together, as you see....little sheeps bounding all over my project bag just make me squeal, 'tooo cuuuute'!

And, with Fall comes the cold, hard knowledge that the holiday season will soon be upon me. Every year, I make some foolish resolution that I will not gift knit for anyone out of obligation. I tell myself that my knitting is my own and I work on what I like. Until about Dec. 1. Then, I am consumed with guilt that fuels near round-the-clock gift knitting that is doomed to be late at best and likely despised by the time I finish it. So, in breaking that tradition, I am accepting that the notion of gift knitting WILL come over me and trying to embrace it sooner than later and get a head start on it. So, I put this handspun yarn from our 'Tiny Dancer' batts to good use and made it into a simple hat.

Other than that, I've just been sitting around (LOL)...if you can call starting 25 lbs. of cabbage fermenting into kraut, making the daikon radishes in the garden into some yummy kimchee, and canning 2 cases of tomatoes sitting around. Coffee, anyone? Oh god, the dryer buzzer just went off - like it was an answer to that question (insert creepy Halloween music here). The dryer and I are going to have a cup of coffee together - please join us - snork.

The Reality Lobe

2009-09-03T12:58:00.002-04:00

I know there's much truth and brilliance in the whole study of the brain but I swear mine is wired a little differently. Read this to mean that I am aware that I am a total nut case and have no real desire/ability to change it. LOL. I think I have a 'sub-section' of the frontal lobe. You know, that's where your ability to do futile things like reasoning, problem solving, planning goes on. It is safe to say that my frontal lobe is on overload - needs new wiring, and may be shooting sparks and puffing thick clouds of black smoke out of it as we speak. I may have missed employing the frontal lobe when planning the last month. Let's see, a cross-country trek with oodles of yarn in tow for a week (aka: Sock Summit), a move of both farm and family (for which I conveniently forgot would include silly, trivial things, really, like PACKING AND UNPACKING). Dang, is that why there are big brown boxes still adorning every room in the house? And, I surely thought I had more power than I really do if I thought I could do both of those things whilst preparing for two more shows, being in the thick of garden canning, and keeping the shop, farm, schooling, and home life reasonably running. Oh, and laundry - because the beast doesn't slow down just because you're running around looking like a deer in the headlights.

It's like that lobe just gets overloaded but never really realizes that is happening. It has no alarm system and sends a message, "Houston, you are taking on too much and are waking up in the middle of the night panicking about all that you forgot to do yesterday and making notes on your bedside table about them for tomorrow - there may be a problem and, alas, it could have a solution!" No, this doesn't happen. And, when the wiring is overloaded, I just keep filling the 'to-do' baskets with a blissful ignorance to the probability factor - how much more CAN you do?

All the while, there is this hidden part of the lobe that is 'storing up' data to confront me with on the day(s) wherein the wiring issue becomes patently clear. Oh, I hate those days. They come on like normal days (thank the powers that be that ALL days begin with coffee or I think maybe I'd just crawl into a cave somewhere and whimper myself to death) but the reality lobe is slowly building juice to cause the most spectacular fireworks show as each and every wire outlet blows. Again, I bow humbly to those who make sure there is coffee in the world. Cream and sugar for those moments, even though I usually take it strong and black - life has to have rewards and simple pleasures, you know?

Among the scattered ruins of the 'plans' and 'ideas' and 'realities', still smoldering from the great appearance of the reality lobe, I do manage to find, again, the things that make me smile, put a little song in my soul, and wipe the memory clean ASAP so I'll have the ignorance+courage+tenacity to go at it all again:) Reality isn't so bad ALL THE TIME. Like this week. I failed miserably at the 'to do' list BUT, I also assumed that meant there was insufficient knitting. Not so. There was this pair of socks that I forgot to show you last week - knit from a new colorway I called 'Red Letter Year'.

You might remember that Thing 1 and I went to see this awesome lady in concert for her (Thing 1's) birthday this year. The show? Errr, it was only TOTALLY AWESOME. But this song, in particular, just about made me scream, laugh, cry, and yell, "Yeah!" over and over again. Okay, I did yell over and over again but, really, can you blame me? So, on the way home from the concert (yes it was dark and yes I was driving but the reality lobe is drained of power right now so - whut?) I slapped some post it notes on the dashboard and started scribbling down the colorway touches to 'Red Letter Year'. Something bold, something that doesn't apologize but humbling acknowledges that life is full of episodes wherein one finds one is 'f....ing up', and something that says that's okay as long as you learn from it, do better next time, and keep some love in your heart all the while.

Then there's this sock in progress project that got a great big happy face and scratch off the 'on-the-needles' list this week. A collaboration of two EKF colorways: Meditation and Johny Jump Ups with a simple quilt stitch worked in on the rows where the color changes. It was super easy - mostly stockinette stitch, and the happy play of stripes and dark purples against light, springy joy just thrilled me beyond what I'm willing to describe or discuss in public. It's the little things, really, that sometimes breathe the magic fairy dust of forgetting the reality lobe explosions and get you back up and running again.

Now, should I finish the two sweaters on the needles or cast on another sock project? Hmmmmm.....reaches for the reality lobe switch with an evil grin and shuts it right off.....

All in a Day's Work....

2009-08-19T11:13:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I finally got around to the peaches that we got through a local coop - woot! Gorgeous fresh picked peaches - yeah! We are, of course, eating peach everything at the moment. Peaches on yogurt, peach cobbler, peaches just for the heck of it, you know - just peachy all the way around. So, to say we've 'stolen' some peaches from the boxes is a mild understatement (who would tell the truth, really?) But, from the 1.5 bushels I've processed so far, I made 15 jars of peach jam. Yuuuuuum! I just follow the recipe on the sure jell/ball pectin packet. Too many times, I've tried no sugar, low sugar jam approaches and wound up with syrup so I just suck it up and pour the sugar in, moderation being my approach of the moment. I mean, there is alot of sugar in a batch of jam but - how much do you actually eat at a time?

I still have another 1/2 bushel of peaches to go so I'm guessing I'll get another dozen jams made today which will total 27 jars. That may sound like alot but, when spread over the year and accounting for the jars I will 'gift' whenever the mood strikes me - not so much. Since the berries on the old homestead (feels so weird to say that) are sparse at best this year - we likely won't have any blackberry jam so peach will be the jam of our year. If I gift 5-7 jars, that leaves us 1.5 jars a month. That would be fine except the huscreature is a biscuit eating machine and he still weighs 5 lbs. less than when he graduated high school so his logic tells him it's perfectly okay to have lots of butter and jam dripping off of the biscuit. I sear, I smell his breakfast and I gain five pounds. It just isn't fair, I tell you.

The chutney is my favorite. It goes well on anything you want to roast in the oven like potatoes, fish, chicken, etc. It tastes divine on a good steak with some fresh baked bread or, you can marinated some tofu in it and then saute it with the chutney for a sort of blackened, spicy tofu addition to your meal. Very versatile, lots of flavor - that's my way of cooking so we get along just fine. This recipe will make about 5 quart jars of chutney. My canner can hold 6 but I find they are easier to manage when I only put 5 jars in there:

* As note of interest - and because I am a total freak and like to figure this stuff out - 3-4 moderately sized peaches, when skinned and pitted and chopped, equal about 2 cups of peaches. Yes, I counted. Over and over, and the average was consistent within a 1/4 cup margin. I told you, FREAK!

16 cups of peeled, cubed and slightly smashed peaches
1 tbsp of the following: garam masala, cardamon pods, pickling spices
1 teaspoon of the following: pepper flakes, cumin, vanilla extract,cinnamon
Pinch of: ground clove, nutmeg
4.5 cups of sugar
4 cups of apple cider vinegar
2 tbsp fresh minced ginger and garlic
1 onion, chopped fine
fresh cilantro to taste
1 fresh Serrano pepper, diced fine

Cook together on med to high heat, stirring regularly until some of the liquid has evaporated (about 1/2 hour). No need to evaporate ALL of the liquid as the canning process will 'gel' the sugar and peaches somewhat. If you really only like a chutney that is thick and well evaporated, by all means, do so but you will likely only get 3-4 jars from this recipe. Once reduced, pour into sterilized canning jars and water bath them for 35 minutes. They taste great right from the start but, after a few weeks, their flavor really blends together in the jar and it is awesome! Throw your meat/tofu/edamame beans or protein of choice into some and spread it on some rice and you have a one dish meal that is out of this world.

* Second note of interest - I am a glutton for tongue punishment so I always triple the garlic and ginger in mine. Of course, that would make a dinner date with this stuff problematic if your desired attendee is sensitive to garlic breath. Try chewing on some fennel seeds after your meal if this is the case - it will abolish the garlic smell and still allow you to revel in garlic heaven:)

To peel peaches without cursing:

This is a super easy process. Boil some water in a large sauce pot. Drop peaches in until the pot is nearly full but all the peaches can roll around comfortably. Boil for a few minutes - remove them and dramatically (or not but I like to have fun so I make a show of it) plunge them into some cold water in your sink. When you pull them out, the skins slip right off easy peasey. Then, cut them up and remove the pits and they are ready for the canning process:)

we have to talk....

2009-08-17T15:35:00.002-04:00

- Which is to say that this post will be long beyond long and have some parts where you might roll your eyes and wonder why I babble so – but I hope you’ll read it all the same-

For the last two years, I’ve been ‘casually’ mentioning that things are changing around the farm. And, oh boy has that taken on a whole new meaning in the last few weeks. I haven’t talked about it much and I hope that after reading this post, you’ll understand. Part of my keeping quiet about it was the sorrow of it all. Some of the changes were hard to come to peace with and, while I know I can share anything here – I just didn’t really know how to do that until some of the chaos dust had settled a bit and we could begin to see a bit of the ‘future’ chaos dust unfolding. And, the other part is that while the chaos dust was flinging about – some days were so murky that it was really hard to know what would be. For just a bit, it seemed like EVERYTHING would change and that just made this little crab crawl into her shell and hide for a while.

It all started with our realizations and dances with ‘the truth’ about our lifestyle. We had many grand reasons, I’m sure, for why we did what we did – why we chose to move to the woods and live entirely off the grid and learn to be dependent on only ourselves. It was a good basket of reasons, too. For one thing, 10 years ago when this dream began, alternative energy was still considered a ‘pie in the sky’ dream for the average person. Now? Well, now the options are truly endless and (I hope) it stands a fighting chance in becoming the mainstream view of future new home building. WOW – what a radical shift. We were also a very young family and, not being children born to wealth or very lucky in terms of lottery winnings (I think you have to actually buy the tickets to win, darn!) we were pretty ‘low budget’ so the concept of taking matters into our own hands and building our own home seemed very rational – and it was. For less than 8,000, we built a barn and house and never paid one person to hammer even one tiny nail. We cut every log and cemented every wall of the cordwood barn we built and while that may seem a silly accomplishment, for us – it still makes us smile. I’m so glad we did it! And, then there were our ‘ideals’ – we wanted the good life for us and mostly for Things 1, 2 and 3. We wanted them to have childhoods saturated with nature exploration, happy days on the farm, and a generally satisfying and simple way of living. And they did – and I’m glad we could give it to them.

Before we took the plunge and went to our remote homestead, we had many friends who either had or were doing the same thing. We vowed we’d learn from them – from their successes and their failures. One thing we found in nearly every circumstance where things did not turn out well was a person or persons in the team sticking to some ideal and refusing to bend. It is the kiss of death when you count on Mother Nature for your daily survival. You have to imagine the impossible, embrace the improbable, and find peace when your hopes are thwarted by reality. We vowed to ourselves, our family, and to each other that we’d never let ourselves get so boxed in by an ‘ideal’ or fantasy of how it MUST be done that we’d cause suffering or grief for anyone in the family – and we’ve pretty well kept each other in check in terms of that, save for the last year or so when reality began to wield a club instead of tapping us ever so gently on the shoulders. For some time, now, we’ve been the lone voice in that patch of woods – all the other families have returned to the ‘normal’ – the last being our dearest friends of over a decade who ended their 24 year marriage in divorce and completely left their way of life. It was heartbreaking to watch and a bit sobering because we could too closely see the path that had led to it. That coupled with the ‘truths’ that kept lurking about and turned over just too many stones for us to keep embracing the improbable. And, after this summer, the improbable has become so murky and weathered that hope has become a rare find – or so it was until just a month or so ago. So, here’s the story as I can now, after a bucket or 20 of tears and some serious hugs and some laughter and some long goodbyes, tell it:

We began to realize a couple of years ago that our solar set up was going to need some serious upgrading to handle the load of the farm/the business/and, oh yeah, the living. We started doing some research. The good news is that we found that many advances have been made in the solar industry and, hence, much higher quality products are available with much less waste and up front expense. Unfortunately, we also found that these trends were heading solely toward the ‘grid tied’ solar set ups like you see springing up (hope, hope, hope) all over neighborhoods these days. For old timers like us, the totally off-grid systems are not as efficient, very much more expensive, and are fairly lime green in terms of green when you consider the life of the batteries (about 5 years and you need lots of them to operate a household even without the appliances I’ve learned to live without like an iron, blender, hair dryer, etc) and the lower efficiency of the off grid systems. It is good that the tide is turning but we began to feel like we’d fallen prey to a undertow and were sort of falling to the bottom of the pile. We considered, for a moment, grid tying but it is impossible beyond the challenging of impossible. Not only would it cost what two years of college for Thing 1 would cost to get the poles out here, but we cannot and will not cross the watershed that lines our property as it is a valuable and vital breeding ground for so many species. On this, we have dug in our heels and let our ideals reign supreme. You have to bend like the willow but even the willow will snap eventually – and we have to be able to live with ourselves in the end so no power lines….end of story.

We decided to work harder (a recurring theme in our lives which is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it is how we’ve managed to make this beautiful family and make it in life together but a curse because it is the solution we tend to fall back on which means we are often harder on ourselves than we have to be) and, you know, we did. We hauled water - every drop that has dyed every skein and every cup full that has wet a child’s mouth and every loving spoonful that has provided a meal, a bath, a drink for some critters – we hauled it by hand. We built fences to try to return the former woodlot that was cut over before we purchased it to the old farmstead that it was some 80 years ago – racing to thwart the trees and make pasture for the critters. We chopped wood to warm ourselves and cook and we grew whatever our thumbs would allow and ate every bit of it even if it was a seedy, miserable zuchinni that should have been snapped by the early frost.

One of those ‘truths’ or flaws in our rational that became exposed by reality was that we also thought, as many people do, that by doing a lot of our own work and saving money by living simply, we’d be able to have more time being a family. This one didn’t really pan out like we’d hoped. In fact, we were more than hit below the belt when we started actually tracking the numbers and realizing that is no less expensive to live our remote life than it is conserving. We waste a lot more than we can sit comfortably with due to some of the limitations of our power capabilities and food storage, wear and tear of equipment and such. Actually, our bills at our old 110 year old farmhouse were LESS than they are now living off the grid. Ouch. That one really stung the pride a bit….and made all the work and sacrifice seem a pale comfort through the storms. Just ouch. When the chores you need to do (in addition to farm chores which seem like a day at the beach compared to the daily living essentials like water/warmth/survival) just to survive take up 1/3 of your day – and that’s a normal day when something vital doesn’t break and you have only yourself to fall back on so you have to stop what you’re doing and work however many long hours it takes to FIX IT NOW – then you sort of wake up behind and go to bed watching the ‘to do’ list grow like weeds. You find yourself telling your kids that you’d be happy to listen to them about something but they’ll have to walk around with you because you only have ‘x’ number of hours/minutes of daylight left and ‘x + 1-a billionty’ things that have to get done like getting water, hauling in the wood, pulling dinner up, etc. and it starts to look very different than the life you thought you were giving them. In our case, the mounting piles of ‘truths discovered by actually doing them and finding a result’ colliding with a series of unfortunate events and mixing with the colors of how our family is growing and changing meant only one thing – something was bound to change.

We’ve had a miserable summer, but it’s not like we’re that easily frightened by adversity. I remember, distinctly, the time I had to chase a garden destroying pig back into her fences dragging my oxygen tank behind me the year I got pneumonia and that was just a few days after I’d come home from the hospital. Or the countless times the huscreature has had to go out in the rain/sleet/snow whether healthy, happy or sick as a dog because living everyday means the chores of living everyday still must be done – even if you’re so tired you want to just cry. Living on a dirt road in mud season means you spend a week to three walking to and from your car – or thousands of dollars a year repairing the damage you do with your vehicle by trudging through the muddy road and uncovering rocks, making huge car eating ruts, etc. etc. We’ve survived many a scary time, too – like the year that our aging neighbor ‘went off his meds’ as his family later explained but spent the better part of a season shooting his gun while we drove by and yelling profanities at us. Or the time that the house almost burned down because an ice ledge broke off of the metal roofing and a freakish thing happened which resulted in a damaged panel that shorted out our system and burnt the wiring. Or the time that a high speed police chase ended in our driveway late at night when the huscreature was at work and I was home alone with three sleeping babes in the deep woods – can still hear my heart beating when I think about that night – LOL. Or, the storm that brought cloud to ground lightning that struck our house and fried our inverter. The inverter is the beloved device of the solar set up. It is the brain, the heart, and the lungs of the entire system. Without it, you get no language between the panels and the little plugs you plug your stuff into and pray it will work. Being on your own means just that – there’s no one to hold your hand when something goes wrong. You have to make up your own rules as you go along and you have to be able to reconcile with yourself when that causes mayhem. I am convinced that this is how ice cream was invented….to soothe the worried mind.

So, we can survive a fair amount of challenges. We’ve accepted it as the price of living in paradise and kept working harder. But then miserable seemed to be a recurring theme. There was a ridiculous amount of rain. Ridiculous. Like stunting the garden and washing out the road ridiculous. It will take many thousands of dollars to make it passable in anything other than a 4WD and even that will need constant repairs because the road is becoming a car eater. Huscreature can tell you exactly how long it takes to replace a ball joint, wheel bearing, or drive train – he had to learn because mechanics are not cheap and cannot be bought with cookies like I can:)

The rain also pointed out the glaringly obvious – we are not skilled carpenters and the challenges of a round roof proved above our ability. The barn roof needs replacing – another huge chunk of resources, time, money that we don’t really have or want to expend – again. We’re not winning the pasture battle. The baby trees lush out with leaves and choke out the grass. The sheep and horse cannot eat them fast enough and we cannot cut them fast enough to make enough pasture to raise the healthy, natural flock we insist upon. Nothing short of clearing it by fire, clear-cutting, or taking a backhoe and abolishing the landscape as it stands will catch us up on the gain that the trees have in the cycle. It is neither sustainable to maintain the herd here nor are the ‘solutions’ acceptable to us. The place seems to be telling us that reverting it back to the farm it was is OUR dream and that it really wants to stay wild. We love it too much not to listen.

All of the sudden, the markers start to point to the same issues and this is where the scary part becomes the painful part and you know you’re saying goodbye to something you treasure because you can feel that constant aching where your heart sits. I tried to ignore it for a loooong time but then a few months ago, I dropped Things 1 and 2 off at some friends’ house and had a few minutes of ‘thinking’ time on the way home. A conversation started and I didn’t like where it was going from the start. You always know you’re about to wake up to a surprise when you start a conversation with yourself like, “hey, what is going on here? Why so unhappy?“ I mean, I love what I do for a living, I have farming so deep in my blood that I think it my take me with it should I ever leave it and I am surrounded by love and happiness in the forms of family and good friends. Why? Then, it answered back and sounded something like, “Well, you know, the Things are growing and changing and (insert Thing # here) is really needing (insert the need of each Thing here) and you feel awful because you know they can’t have it because of (reason). And I started to cry because the ‘reason’ was the same every time and it was the thing we’ve been fighting so hard to make –our home.

I did what any person would do - I took it to my best friend. Only, my best friend is the person who’s been pushing so hard right along side me all this time and he’s pretty personally invested, too. So, you know it was hard to say, hard to hear, and hard to help each other with. It’s like we’d both seen the dice be tossed years before but just then realized that they would just land on the table and be what they were – no do overs, no slight of hand, no blind hope would change the resulting numbers that they’d be called. You could say the bubble burst but I think it could be more aptly described as trolls bursting through your neighborhood toppling everything in sight. The chaos dust was thick and nothing seemed certain for a while.

Then, driving home one day, I noticed a sign in front of my favorite farmhouse in the area. I’ve loved this house for 12 years – squealing with delight the year I first spotted it coming around the corner . We all looked at each other and considered it a moment but then ‘pashawed’ the idea and went home to weed the garden with vigor and dedication. Later, the generator died and is just now barely working and ½ of the battery bank was lost in the gray 5 weeks of June and the beginning of July – they were long past their age expectancy of 6 years but we were sure hoping they’d hold out longer. The inverter that we’d pieced back together after the lightning strike stopped working and the money we’d been saving to drill a new well closer to the house so that we could install a tank and have actual running water went, instead, to repair our vehicles and buy more hay. She was speaking to us but we just weren’t ready to listen to it. But her voice got louder. And we had to listen. I went to Sock Summit with a sense of excitement but also with a pool of uncertainty whishing about me (us). Then, like magic, the Universe stopped peeing on our heads and the stars danced a pretty dance and then got right into line so our chaos could calm down a rest a bit. Just days after I arrived in Oregon, huscreature and I decided once and for all, that too many things were right about it all to keep trying to convince ourselves it was wrong.

The short end to this long story is that we are moving our farm. We feel fortunate that that is all that we have to change. The sheep and horse get the reward of living on an organic hay farm with fields of rich, fresh grass. We’ve leased the farm for a while whilst we decide what we can/want to do – we’re not quite ready to become homeowners again just yet and feel that taking the time to ruminate on the ‘future’ picture of the farm is wise at this point. We feel blessed to come away from it all still believing that farming is what we want to do, still being a family and working in both the present and the future as the same beautiful team, and looking ahead to a brighter and more open way of life. We’re taking the panels with us and hope to be set up as a grid –tied system in a couple of months – still trying to do whatever we can to sustain ourselves and leave as soft a footprint as we can. The Things will now have the comforts of both their parents’ time and attention AND the necessities of warmth, friendship, and a healthy level of growth in their lives. And the huscreature and I? We get to focus on the passion that drove us to the goal of the homestead in the first place – the thing that lives in the heart of us – the farm. The barn is entirely set up for a dairy and the time huscreature has saved just in the few days since we’ve moved in not having to lug water about and being able to do the daily parts of surviving with more ease have re-kindled some of his old dreams – like when I used to make cheese, butter, and yogurt specialties from our dairy cow and we talked of starting our own organic dairy. In addition to the wool life, of course because I want to make sure to say that THE WOOL IS STAYING. LoL. We’re even keeping our name – as our new farmhouse also sits upon a giant knoll and trickles down a grassy bend – just like the old place only the house is easy to get to – no long muddy roads – so we can achieve the level of friendships and community that we need. It’s a 100+ year old farmhouse but we love its charm and history enough to embrace its ‘quirks’ and, once more, we’re looking optimistically forward to the new experiences that await us. It’s a good life, again, and that is all we can really ask for. Well, that and a hot shower at the end of a long day.

10 Things I Learned at Sock Summit

2009-08-12T17:27:00.004-04:00

1. Meeting and taking a class with your knitting/life hero isn't something you can even remotely prepare for. You will over think it, mull it through,imagine what it might be like but you will still feel butterflies when you walk in the room and you will likely trip over your tongue, forgetting all the things you wanted to say, and, instead, make a total fool of yourself at least once - in my case more.

Barbara Walker is not only a knitting mentor that I cherish, or a woman who's intellect and sense of things restore my belief that we as humans can really manifest the world we desire even if others are trying hard to convince us it is impossible or improbable - but she's also just really witty and sweet and a joy to be around. So, since this is how my first day of Sock Summit started, it is no surprise that it only got better. I was so giddy that I don't even mind posting this most awful photo of me - I know ya'll understand. How can you stand next to someone like Barbara Walker and not totally panic? LOL. When she autographed my tarot deck, I very nearly fell over. I'm telling you - goofy smiles and expressions throughout the rest of the summit were my only reliable uniform:) I even smiled through my three attempts before I got the hang of the class assignment - mosaic knitting. But, when it did click - it was awesome. I'm working on another pair and, well, it will be along in a while with a definite mosaic flavor - love that technique!

2. Lugging oodles of yarn across the country is exhilarating, exhausting, and totally unfathomable but it most certainly can be done.

What's more, even the worry, the sweating, the hauling and lugging of said yarn will pale in comparison to the joy you feel when people pick it up, touch it, marvel at those colors you created, and generally coo and ahhhh. It is dizzying - like the kind of fun you had turning round and round in the yard and falling into the cool grass laughing - you just smile a goofy smile all day. Thanks so much to all of you who came by the booth, who spoke the language of yarn love, and who made the trip a thrill! Mwah!

3. Having great friends on-line is in no way less fulfilling than having great friends in person but, when the two can be combined - the stars just dance and shine.
It was so great to see so many familiar faces and laugh loudly and stroke yarns with the people that otherwise live in my ravelry house - totally awesome. Our dinners, moments in the booths talking about yarn fun and many laughs were totally awesome. Abby cemented my love for her by bringing me a beverage. Yum! Micro brews rock is all I'm saying and friends who share are like honey (licks her paws happily). There was dinner with Lou, a night out with Anne and Kristine, many hugs and 'how ya doin'?s' and lots of good times - a sky full of happy stars dancing, I'm telling you.

4. All work and no play makes the farm-witch and her Thing 1 feel totally cranky. So, we treated ourselves ahead of time to a day walking about Chinatown and visiting the Chinese Classical Gardens....they were totally stunning and, almost like magic, I found many quiet, peaceful places to steal a few knitting moments. In fact, some of the 'things I learned' will occupy this excursion....but we'll pause here and look at this shot of the goldfish in the ponds that swam beneath our feet on the bridge.

5. In Chinese cultural art forms, the apply blossom symbolizes peace and tranquility - a life free of strife....what a beautiful thought. These tiles line the walkway to the Courtyard of Tranquility - sand surrounding little water washed stones that are placed on their sides at a particular height so that, when stood on with calm bare feet, they activate the energy balancing centers in the body and, well, I can only describe the sensation that occurs as blissful release from worry - perfect medicine for the 'oh my gosh, it's the day before the Sock Summit jitters'.

6. I love functional art. Okay, I already knew that but I found a new one to love and, after the seriously depressing rain we've had all summer, the fact that I could leave there revering and cheering rain is really saying something about the beauty of the place and the wonders of the tour guide who was fascinating and so willing to share her love of the art forms represented in the Gardens. These tiles really touched me - placed elegantly at the edge of the gorgeous roof tiles, they have three points through which the rain drains off of them - creating sheets of rain that make curtains around the gardens and make the rain actually make a rhythmic sound. I'd try to describe the details but I think the tour brochure said it perfectly:

They are an authentic Ming design in the shape of a bat, with the character 'shou' (long life) encircled by five bats. The Chinese word for bat is fu, which sounds like the words for 'happiness' or 'good fortune,' so the bat is used to symbolize those wishes. The five bats represent the Five Blessings: long life, wealth, health, love of virtue, and natural death.

It makes you think about how import art is - when you realize that you walk amongst symbols and passions every day and are totally unaware of the beauty of their meaning.

7. And I share this little enlightenment with Thing 1 - it is good to be missed. We were sweetly surprised by some flowers that the huscreature sent us - they filled the hotel room with their sweet fragrance and the little reminder that we were missed was a warm welcome at the end of the long and crazy days that were sock summit. mmmmmm.... smell them - don't they smell good?

8. Exhaustion, ridiculous levels of immersion, and even misplacing one's favorite knitting needles (found them later - I am now convinced it was all a ploy by the fates and maybe helped along by a few fun friends to force me to buy some of these lovelies - cough - Kristine and Lou made me do it) will not do a single thing to prevent one from or delay the need to knit socks. I cast on a pair on Saturday and this is the start of the second that you see modeling the needles. I'm hoping to have it done by the weekend - they are to replace the too small toe ups that I made Thing 3 for his birthday. Don't recognize the colorway? It's a new one - I'll post more on that later in the week when they come back to dance across the blog for you. Oh, and after I found the missing needles, do you think I restrained myself from casting on ANOTHER pair of socks? Nah.....why be practical when you're surrounded by yarn and sock fumes? But I'm not sorry for a minute for buying them - I've longed for a pair of signature dpn's for a long time and, uhm, knitting with them is pure ecstasy. just sayin'

9. It's a small world. I know, it's quaint but the world truly did feel much smaller and more friendly last weekend. I think it is best explained by showing you the rest of my loot. I know, I tried to resist but it was no use. I fell head over heels for Gail's gorgeous Angora bunny/merino/nylon sock yarn and I wasn't too surprised when two skeins were suddenly in my hands and I was running around yelling, 'yes, yes, oh yes'. Fortunately, my daughter reminded me I was embarrassing her so I got myself together pretty quickly. Gail used to be from Maine so it was a thrill to talk fiber, yarn, bunnies and fun places and things with her. She and Celia - also in the booth and from the shop The Purl District - were oodles of fun to share the isle with. The Purl District t-shirt didn't make it into the photo because I wore it and it is all sweaty and stinky and just what you'd expect a shirt that spent 32 hours on a person in airports, sweaty planes, and trips home to smell like - so, it is being washed. LOL There's also a bit of merino/silk roving from Knitted Wit and a namaste case and a knitting out loud cd that I picked up in Cat Mtn. Fiber Arts' booth. There was some great sheep's milk soap over in the Holiday Yarns booth - and got to visit with Jen and talk shepherding/yarn growing and such for a while. I'd already hit up her booth mate, the fabulous Tsarina of Socks (Hi Lisa!) for this kit when it's released - I mean, it just says, 'I'm a former Austinite', doesn't it?

10. All good things must end and, when they do, you will likely be so delusional with all that excess energy pulsing through you and also so tired that you'll likely forget to thank and mention all the wonderful people/creatures/places that you found along the way - still, you should try. We were thrilled to be there. I was thrilled to spend so much time with Thing 1 (mother and daughter duos at knitting events are the greatest fun, aren't they?) Also thrilling was the meeting and greeting of friends old and new (not talking age, here, LOL). It was beyond thrilling to sit and knit a while with some of my favorite designers - Cookie A. and Anne Hanson of Knitspot. And Lou was kind enough to invite me in and let me pet her yarn loot - good to see you again, Lou! Got to visit with Sheri and the amazing Loopy Ewe crew and got a great hug and good laugh from Rabbitch to boot. I'm forgetting to mention so many other great things about the weekend, I know but the overwhelming nature of it all just hasn't quite settled. Thanks are due, though, to the organizers and the Debbies that were so helpful while we vendors were trying to make the Convention center our home - mwah! To the instructors for sharing their great genius with us and to the people who came and joined in the yarn love fest! Woot! Now, I'm off to catch up on that rare practice of shutting one's body down for what most call sleep.....already snoring she falls over on the keyboard.....

Socks Matter

2009-08-01T15:08:00.003-04:00

They really do, you know....

I didn't know how important socks were until I left my Southern home and moved to the Northeast - where winter is a reality that remains in stark contrast to anything I can decently describe. Let's just say that you learn quickly the value of layers and the treachery of exposed feet. I know you wouldn't be silly enough to do this but- someone I know once thought she could just jot out to the mailbox in thin socks and no shoes on 2 ft of snow pack. I know, she's learned, though, so let's not laugh at her for too long. (thanks)

So, the idea of a very warm sock becomes immediately appealing to those of us who have cold feet for nearly 6 months of every year but - do you think that would make me into a sock knitter? NOOOOOOOO! I swore I'd never, ever, EVER knit socks and that, I am still convinced, is why I perpetually linger in the pile of socks in progress that is my studio/knitting baskets/purse - LOL. I am serving my time for being disrespectful to the sock. Shhhh...don't remind anyone I'm here - I hope they don't decide to let me out:)

Now that I've been bitten - and waited for a few years to see if it would 'go away', I'm shamelessly loving every tiny stitch on my size '0' dpns. I try to remember my days as a non-sock knitter. There are different levels of non-sock knitting. There are those who are completely ignorant to the virtues of sock knitting by no fault of their own. Maybe they live in a warm or hot climate and don't know that wool socks are not the only option for knitters and/or that wool socks are actually not hot to wear in warm weather because they 'breathe' and keep the feet rather dry and comfy. They've likely not experienced the pure joy that is sliding on a fresh pair of hand knit socks that 'hug' the feet and make you say 'ahhhh' when you walk around in them. They don't even fathom the possibilities of colors, textures, styles, and uniquely comfortable hand knit socks that are waiting to be born. Those poor souls are subjected to the rants of sock knitting cheers from fellow sock knitters. Some of them may have been 'gifted' with knitted socks or the random ball of yarn and needles in some crazed attempt to fill their personal bubbles with the scent of wool and, as my mind reasons, an immediate and powerful desire to knit socks immediately permeating their very beings. Sometimes it works....

Then there are the knitters who, like myself, just don't yet have the desire to knit socks. They love sweaters, scarves, even large lace shawls but they just haven't yet been bitten by the sock knitting fever. Those are my personal favorite non-sock knitters because they will, at the very least, ooh and ahh over pretty sock yarns and consider the sock you've knit. They also, let's face it, have the quickest potential to be turned on to sock knitting - hence my hoarding of every scrap of sock yarn I don't use just in case someone wants to swatch and try it - LOL.

There are also the 'why would I knit a sock when I can buy a whole pack for less than that at my box store?' non-sock knitters. Almost immediately upon being inducted into the sock knitting pool, I struggled not to growl and show fangs when someone said this to me in response to seeing me knitting socks. I just remind myself that these non-sock knitters have likely not had the experience of sliding a good hand knit sock on their feet, either. That a poly sock from a package cannot be compared to the give, stretch, and general ooooohhhhhh factor of a hand knit sock and that value is a personal concept - each of us having our own 'guidelines' for what that means. Over time, I've learned not to react - not to let the hackles rise and not to deviate from the pleasurable sport of sock knitting to try to defend it. Just trust me, it matters.

Obviously, I'm not the only one who thinks so. I'm heading out to Sock Summit after Thing 3's birthday tomorrow( HAPPY BIRTHDAY THING 3!) where there will be plenty of people who speak the language of the sock - I can't wait! If you're going to be there, come by and see us in Booth 226. I'll be doing some fun color card readings in the Color Me Crazy Booth on Friday a.m. as well - a whole weekend of nothing but sock loving fun! Yeah!

I haven't done a Great Giveaway in quite some time - and I've never missed a kiddo's birthday, so this one will be super easy - leave a Happy Birthday H in the comments for a drawing upon return from SS to enter yourself to win a skein of sock yarn!

For the Love of Play.....

2009-07-26T12:00:00.003-04:00

Wrapping up the Tour de Fleece at this very moment is most surreal. At first, I was about to slap myself when I counted up the skeins you see here plus the three that aren't in the pic and am at an official 21.5 skeins.....just 1 1/2 skeins short of my skein-a-day goal. Woot! Considering I've also been ~~tearing my hair out in panic and exhaustion~~ getting ready for Sock Summit, I'm pretty darn happy about it.

The Tour was a gift in and of itself that I am grateful for - it forced me to still make time between dyeing oodles of skeins of sock yarn for the Sock Summit and labeling, and packing, and contemplating sending all this hard work into the ethers of UPS and cross country shipping and still not baring my fangs or even trying to bite anyone for some spinning and spinning is truly my most peaceful state. Okay, I fess up - I did TRY to bite someone but he really wanted me to anyway and that's a story for another day, or not at all -snork. I admit that somewhere around the middle, when I fell behind a bit, I started to feel like growling a bit. "What was I thinking, I'm so freaking stupid to think I can do all of this at once," was something like what I heard being muttered in my head as I slapped myself repeatedly over the head with yarn. I mean, it was squishy handspun yarn so, you know, it didn't hurt or anything. Frankly, with all the chaos going on around here this summer - after a bit of getting used to - it felt quite good LOL - such is the sinister nature of the stress beast. Ah well, if you're going to beat yourself up - better to do it with lovely handspun yarn, non?

Then (queue light bulbs and happy songs in the background) it all just clicked. I remembered why I was there, what was important and that the whole purpose of it all was to enjoy the spinning and the peace it brings me. That's what I love about sports. And, yes, I consider this a sort of sport when done in this manner - it is like any other game or event wherein one sets or is met with a goal and one kills oneself to get to the goal and sometimes one wins and sometimes one is there to learn or remember something else - the love of play. After that, I stopped counting skeins and just tried to keep the time each day to spin a bit. It really got fun, again, and I stretched out in ways that aren't able to be counted.

You might already know that I'm the crappiest spindle spinner alive. You might also have figured out that I do nothing to help myself dispel this title because I don't practice, I don't like it, and I don't ever finish what I start. Not this time. What you see on the spindle, here, is a first - one whole Abby batt (squeal) spun and ready to be removed so I can spin the other and ply them - it will be my first 'real' skein. I've spindle spun some smallish skeins before but never an actual 'normal' sized skein so, you know, I'm beaming and looking all happy and proud and goofy at the moment. I've found out these things: 1) I still suck at it. Seriously. The batts are divine. The spindle is awesome. I still suck, take my word for it. 2) the strange thing is, I no longer care that I suck - I am loving taking the spindle in the car, to the library, up to the mill for those times (though they are tragically few) when I just have to stand around and wait for a bit. And, you know what? Since I'm spinning during those times, I'm sucking less - Woot! Must be that stint on the Tour wherein I was treadling for the Team Suck Less - another great creation by Abby. and 3) because I'm sucking less, I'm liking it more. Please forget the don't finish what I start part because I am not ready to linger in the reality pool beyond hopeful thoughts so I'm forgoing the opportunity to bash myself at all - someday, I'll be better at finishing. For right now, I'm liking being better at remembering the love of play.

Did I not introduce you to the beauties in this pic, yet? Oh, they are, starting at the top, a 380 yd skein of sock yarn from a blend of CorrieX and Cotswold Hogget gray fleeces, very silky and lustrous and squishy like handspun farm grown wools are supposed to be. Then, at the front (supporting the spindle with grace) is a skein of 'Tiny Dancer' Roving and 'Raven' batts plied together and some Cotswold singles in Queen Mermaid.

And, because I am just mean and shriveled enough in my tiny yarn heart to pick a favorite - I'll throw on the cabled 4 ply of this month's Happy Hooves Batt Club installment, 'Neptune's Lair' batts. Because, you know - I like Mermaid stuff. I know, a total surprise, huh? LOL.

On the Tour

2009-07-09T12:26:00.002-04:00

You may think I'm posting a blog primarily of pics of my handspun this week just to show off. That is maybe a bit true - LOL because handspun makes even a shy person want to run around the whole neighborhood screaming, "hey, look what I made! Woot!" I set my goal for the Tour de Fleece to spin a skein a day and I am positively smitten that I am two full skeins ahead. Check back in a few days when I'm trying to ship my Sock Summit yarns and getting ready for the greatest sock show on earth and I will likely be deep in the weeds and a few skeins short, if you know what I mean. But, here's the first skein for Saturday - some snow moon batts spun into a squishy 2 ply sport wgt yarn for some quick socks and some happy moon loving sparkle.

Then, on Sunday, I broke into the shop and snatched these farm-grown 'Tiny Dancer' batts. Oh, they have soooo much in them that it is hard to know where to start - the farm grown merino/cotswold/fine wool crossbreeds? The gold accents and brassy bamboo? The silk? The sparkle? The luxury of a triple card that makes the fiber just jump onto the wheel like you've hardly spun it at all? It was good spinning, I assure you! I made this yarn into a worsted because I want to use it in a yoke on a sweater I'm cooking up in my head.

Perhaps, you're thinking I'm in over my eyeballs getting ready for Sock Summit right now and am taking the lazy way out by posting pics of yarn in exchange for actual blog content. Ahem - oh, looky here, some yummy yarn! This is a skein of David's yummy masham spun into bulky singles. There are two of them, actually, totalling 8 ozs. The extra skein is a bit of insurance for if and when the over my eyeballs part starts to seriously carve away my spinning time - LOL. Insurance spinning, yeah, that's why I was sitting at the wheel that night all deranged and rabid looking just daring anyone to ask me to do anything other than spin. 4 skeins so far! Woot!

Or, maybe you're just wishing I'd stop with the babbling and seriously start pumping out the yarn pr0n. Okay, you asked for it:

2 ply tussah silk in my 'Ursula' colorway - 400 yds fingering wgt

2 ply Queen Mermaid - 1 ply farm raised batts / 1 ply tussah silk both in the Queen Mermaid colorway

And one skein of sport wgt sock yarn in the "Phoenix" colorway

Whhhhooooo! Back to the wheel!

Reflections

2009-07-05T11:48:00.002-04:00

Hi. I know I haven't been here so much and it's probably arrogant for me to ask you for help but, uhm, have you seen June? I mean, it's a whole 30 days, non? Only, it felt more like 5 days in terms of productivity and 400 in terms of trudging through peanut butter in high heels. That probably has alot to do with the fact that today is the first day in WEEKS that it has not rained. Yes, I said weeks and the day is not over and it was supposed to be not rainy yesterday but turned late in the morning into a soupy downpour that stayed throughout the 25 mile trek home from taking my kid to his games on Saturdays. White knuckle, torrential pouring rain that makes you want an IV backpack of coffee because you have your eyes open SO WIDE that it seems you may never be able to blink again.

Still, call me a gullible soul - the sun is cheering for sure. Thing 1 opened her arms and took a deep breath as it broke through the kitchen window a few hours ago and Thing 3 (presumably tired of either having to choose between outside play that is wet, muddy and warm or staying indoors which for a 9 year old kid amounts to inner torture) jumped up and down and yelled, 'Sun!' as he half tied his shoes and ran out the door to play. Woot! Sun!

It's also been a month for some reflection. Looking into things can be exhilarating but almost always has some things that make you twitch a bit and feel some unease - so spinning is absolutely a lifesaver - LOL. I've been spinning a bit, looking a bit, then sitting back down to the wheel for a bit longer. I can't help feeling like it's all good, though, to look at things for what they really are and sort of do some cleaning house of the life - tidying up what has gone astray, setting new goals, challenges, opening ourselves to possibilities and taking small steps into that 'other' phase of our family life - wherein the kids get older all too quickly and the focus shifts from peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for afternoon snacks and play dates and library trips to college applications and really starting to conceptualize the inevitable emptying of the nest. I know it is a couple of years off but, still, it reminds me to drink in as much time in the here and now as I can.

So, what has been going on? Well, alot of mud and wet clothes hanging all over - snork. A birthday happened on Tuesday for moi and I was treated like royalty to some good Indian food at my favorite restaurant and a trip to the pet store where I thought about my dogs (always visit the doggie bar and get them some yummy crackers) and helped Thing 3 start the process of planning for his first real and only his pet - which he's getting for his 10th birthday next month - guinea pigs. Since our old Shebunken goldfish died a little while back - we've all been missing him so we grabbed another and then these little dudes just wouldn't stop flipping around in there bowls and showing off their colors for me. I laughed, thinking about reflection and how much a theme it's been for me lately and knew that this was to be. They are home, here, right next to my knitting and reading spot - 2 little betta dudes who just said they needed to be admired and squealed over by a woman obsessed with flashy color.

The funny thing, for me, about bettas is that they have to live alone. I cherish my time alone but I confess I like to be surrounded by people I love and preferably who love me, too. So the idea of be incapable of having a family is so odd to me. Still, anyone who's been married as long as I have or has three kids living in a tiny house can also appreciate the dark humor of sometimes thinking that if you don't get away - entirely alone - you just might go totally insane - LOL. This little guy is 'Blackbeard'. He's named so because the little neck frill fins that bettas have are very long on this guy and jet black against his shiny, brightly colored body - looking like a pirate, eh? He's the most gorgeous red finned betta I've ever seen and I squealed loudly when he flipped around and I realized that his silvery back turns turquoise in the right light. Color envy doesn't even describe it!

Then, we have Neptune who, true to his namesake the Sea God known for his ability to trap the hearts of women human and not with terrible ease, totally had me from the start. I mean, I first saw him on the water, reflected just like this but with a fin hanging below that perfectly captured his blue/green fins. But, then, when he swam up for a bit of air, I got the reflection of his back as he turned to dive down again and I had to gasp a bit. The guy at the pet store blushed and seemed very uncomfortable with the sound I made - very embarrassing.

Fortunately, even though the bettas despise each other (it seems to all come down to fin envy that results in war - but doesn't every war start with some sort of envy or feeling of betrayal or outdoing?), there is still an option that makes it possible for them to share the water with another fish - a split tank. This is a small one that I'm trying out to see how it works out - if they do well, I'll graduate to a larger one. I'm a true blue altruist, I know, but I have to admit there is a small part of me that's hoping against all hope that they'll learn to love on another and want to live in the same tank someday...Right!

Sun is here, reflections are getting easier to look at, and some hard core spinning has begun in earnest. Are you spinning for the Tour de Fleece this year? I've set an enormous goal of 1 skein a day and have yesterday's skein drying as we speak! Woot! Of course, once during the tour, I have challenged myself to spin a mile of yarn in a day....uhmmmm, the butterflies still swarm in my belly when I think of it but it is going to be Gold Dust Woman so, you know, it will surely be an awesome spin!

So, how are you?

Socks, Socks, Socks

2009-06-28T12:07:00.002-04:00

It's all that's on my mind these days, really. I'm going to bed at night thinking of socks. Socks I want to design. Socks I've yet to knit but have the stash designated for. Socks I'm working on. Socks I wish I was farther along on. Socks that are whistling on the wind and socks that are still becoming string on the wheel. It is safe to say I'm consumed with the sock.

It doesn't help that the most awesome sock event EVER is up and coming. Yes, I'm getting really jazzed about Sock Summit. I'm nervous as all get out and I'm also working like a madwoman to get ready for it - but I'm also oober excited about being there! So, I hope that ya'll will come by our booth and hang out for a while.

My sock fever is also being fueled by the fact that I've been spinning so much sock yarn and dyeing up some new colorways - like this 'Blue Ring Octopus' that just has me knitting as fast as I can to free up more needles for new sock projects. Seriously, I finished a pair the other day and was actually disappointed when I found the needles I'd used for them were 1 size up from the size I need to start my Blue Ring Octopus socks. Woe! I love blues and greens anyway but when I came up with this colorway a few weeks ago, I knew it had to be a tribute to this little gal. All small and pretty and vicious.....who could resist her? But, since in real life if you get to see her pretty rings, you are very nearly dead, I decided to make the colorway JUST the colors of her rings. You can knit it and it won't cost you your life...as far as I know.

Of course, this may mean to some that I have too many WIP's on the needles but I am not interested in such practicality at this juncture of my life. I'm far more intrigued and intoxicated at the thought of knitting socks day and night. I think it must be karma for the first few years I was a knitter when I turned my nose up at sock knitting and SWORE I'd never knit anything on teeny tiny needles. People cajoled me with sock yarn....promised me I'd love it, but I resisted. Now? Now I have two sweaters worth of handspun yarn and three hand-dyed sweater yarns (one is a 50/50 wool silk combo for goodness sakes) and I can't be bothered to touch them.....yet I foam at the mouth and elicit strange moans at the sight of sock yarns of all types. It has to be karma.

The thing is, this kind of karma is just fine with me. I'm particularly smitten with the last pair of socks I've finished. When I first got my Cat Bordhi book - I was totally excited. I wanted to do what every excited knitter does and just jump right into it. My first few jumps were a little rocky and I'm not so patient with frogging so I quickly fell into despair. I'm like this with knitting patterns/books, sometimes so I knew better than to give up on it entirely - and I'm so glad I didn't. I've now knit a few successful pairs of socks from the book and continue to be stunned, shocked, and energized by the genius that is Cat Bordhi. Once I got over the 'oh my god I have to do math?' shock and relaxed enough to wrap my mind around alternative shapes and gusset concepts, etc., it's been nothing but non-stop sock knitting bliss. If you've not had this kind of fun with Cat's patterns, yet, do! You won't regret it. It opens the sock knitting mind like some sort of magic portal and, instantly, you cannot imagine a sock you cannot knit. I blame this sock knitting drunken frenzy on my desire to knit the Blue Ring Octopus into the Ocean Toes socks in the book. I mean, how can I possibly imagine that I can knit these? I don't know, I just do.

But, these socks are on stage today - my handspun 'One Fish, Two Fish' yarn from the Happy Hooves batt club. You remember how much fun I had spinning these, don't you? Well, the knitting was only an extension of that bliss. I bet you didn't know that I love quirky? LOL. You did? (surprised). So, to continue quirky loving sock knitting and also to further investigate just what kind of socks I like to wear and which ones wear with the most stealth, these are slightly mismatched. The sock on the right is a Navajo Ply of one batt. The sock on the right, same gauge but a 2 ply. Since most sock spinners say that a 3 ply wears best, I've tended to trend toward standard 3 ply sock spinning. But, I guess the ever questioning and, thus, slightly annoying at times person within can't help but ask, "are you sure?". So, to be sure, I'm trying a bit of everything. This pair is about testing the stealth of a Navajo ply and a 2 ply. In the interest of testing and also because I never seem to do anything exactly the same including my socks - I put two different heels on these. The Navajo Ply got a plain stockinette heel and the 2 ply got the textured, longer wearing heel. Now, the fun part. I get to wear them just as much as I can and see how they do. Right now, they do pretty darn good because my feet are oh, so happy! I think we need a close up to capture some of those sparkles - don't you?

Wow. I can't believe I got through this whole post without complaining AT ALL about the fact that we've had 20 day of the last 23 that have had rain, high humidity, and a warm sort of sogginess to them that makes even the most treehugging person ever crabby and cranky....ooops, I think I just stumbled.....time to go! LOL.

The Problem With Thinking Ahead.....

2009-06-14T15:17:00.003-04:00

I'm sure fifty stars will thud to the ground in some ceremoniously sacrificial rite for me even having to audacity to say this like it might be a surprise to anyone but, ya'll know, I'm not exactly the most organized individual on the planet. Nor do I claim to have ever even dipped a toe in the well of wisdom or even been accidentally splashed whilst walking by (which would probably only have ended in me slipping on the splash and falling without grace or candor on my butt because, let's face it - I'm also not very coordinated LOL). But, I've always sort of held the belief that not being naturally inclined to something is no reason or excuse to relent and give up on the concept entirely. Of course, there are extremes to which I think I'm done testing myself in hopes of perfecting or attaining in ample supply the qualities I lack but, nonetheless, it's good to give it a try now and then.

Lately, I've been experimenting with organization and (gasp) planning. I know! While it has not been an antidote to the chaos that seems to have become the theme of my life, it has been kind of, well....neat. You know, dinner makes it to the table a little earlier than, uhm, just before bedtime and it is often well planned and represents the food groups that extend beyond the essentials: coffee, chocolate and salad. I've even begun to organize my work day a bit so that there is actually some time just after dinner each night wherein I can delight in spinning a bit or knitting feverishly to finish socks for no apparent reason other than the fact that I needed to torture myself with a fictitious deadline (more explanation on that later), or just play a quick game with the kids before bedtime.

All in all, I'd say that this whole organization plus planning ahead plus being practical and not expecting to be able to do 210 things that take 1 hr. each in one day because, well, when you've mapped it out on paper and you're out of hours, it seems more real and believable than if you're just going along in your head saying, "yeah, I can do that, sure, I'll do this, too," is going pretty well. It is hard to keep our fantasies about doing everything now so we can have oodles of 'free' time later in check, non?

The problem with thinking ahead, for me, is that it is a sort of snowball effect over time. Once I begin, I just can't stop and I tend to get just as confused about timing when I'm ooober organized as I do when I'm hopelessly behind. You may be screaming 'middle ground' at me right now but, trust me, you'll lose your voice doing that and I'll still likely be singing, "la la la, I can't hear you". I can hardly ever find middle ground and, when I do, I'm generally so in need of it that I drink it in, relax in it a while, and retreat until I get restless again and go searching for more chaos.

I thought I had June mapped out pretty tightly.....though I've been feeling my grip slide for weeks, now. First, the Frolic was way earlier than I'd expected. 'Way' meaning just a few days but still falling on the first weekend in June instead of the 2nd and, therefore, flabbergasting me as I'd planned on it being the second and, therefore, it was supposed to be - LOL. For some reason, in addition to that little 'slip of the mind', I had myself fairly well convinced that Father's Day was today. I operated, sadly, under that illusion until yesterday when a consult with the calendar defeated even my most powerful assertion that it HAD to be Father's Day. I'd bought the dinner, I'd worked like a dog finishing the Dad socks, I'd cleared the schedule for today so we could all just hang out and dote on Dad. Ahem, my only mistake being the whole 'consult the calendar (reality) then plan' part. Sheesh.

Oh well, at least I'm ready for next Sunday and the Dad socks are done. You may not recognize the Dad socks - traitors that they are. They are made from the 4 ply cabled fingering sock yarn that I spun, remember? Yeah, the yarn that took me FOREVER to finish but I thought it would be worth it because it is made from the lambkin roving so it ooooober soft and lamby and would also wear sooooo well because, you know, 4 plies of tiny strands to make a good light fingering usually equals excellent wearing ability. You don't remember it? Of course not! Because yours truly was so ooo excited when she returned from the Spring Fling that she forgot to show it to you (slaps self on forehead and rolls eyes along with everyone else). Anyhoo, here it is. No special prep for this one. I just split the lambkin dyed in "nature walk" into four equal strips and started spinning. I ended up with close to 450 yds. of 18 wpi sock yarn. I was smitten. I was thrilled. I knew we were destined to be together, always, and so I did what any other sensible knitter would do - I threw my other WIPs outta the way and cast right on for some knee socks.

Only, the yarn was not sharing my visions of our future together. It started talking to me which I don't usually mind. I mean, everyone likes to knit a handspun yarn that says affectionate and passionate things to them whilst they knit it, don't they? looks around the room in hopes of hearing a 'yes, sistha'... This yarn was saying soothing and passionate things, all right, but not for me. Woe! The pain of love betrayed! The yarn said it wanted to be for the huscreature. We had many arguments about it whilst I was working on the simple ribbing for the cuff to stretch around my calves because, after all, this yarn was for me, right? Right...not! Turns out, as fate or senility would have it, I had cast on the exact right amount for his calves, not mine. Sob! I still proceeded to argue with it:

Me: you were meant for me and I worked extra special hard on your fancy cabling. Don't you feel any sense of obligation to love me since I took you to the spring fling and everything to work on you? Don't you remember those long nights I spent plying you and saying over and over to you that you were sooooo good looking?

Yarn: you are selfish. Don't you realize how many times he's picked me up and commented on how much he loves this colorway? Don't you know how hard he is to please as far as color blends go? Are you mad, woman? You could attain valuable points by giving him socks made from me!

Me: Yes, but I have two problems with that. One being that I worked so freaking hard to spin you and, therefore, want you for myself. You know how he is with socks. One of the pairs I knit him, he lost. The other, he never wears. You won't be appreciated in his sock drawer like you will be in mine, trust me. Two being that I've already got a pair of handspun socks in progress for him.

Yarn: You mean the harvest socks that you've had in your WIP basket for nearly a year? The ones he's already told you he won't wear because he doesn't wear 'wine' colors? Are you not hearing the voice of reason,yet, and understanding that I am going to be his socks for Father's Day?

Me: What socks for Father's Day? I'm not making him socks for Father's Day, am I?

Yarn: triumphant, smug smile.

Urgh! Clearly, the pain of being ditched by my own yarn was so strong that I just decided to get the knitting done and over with. There were at least two days last week when the huscreature picked up the socks in progress and commented on how great they were going to look on me that I had to exhibit the most fake smile I could muster and murmur under my breath, "Put them down, I hate you, you sock stealing hussy," after he'd gone away. I became so deluded with rage and sorrow that I didn't even think to consult the stinking calendar to see what actual day Father's Day was - I was just hoping it was today so I could give away my beloved socks and be done with it. To console myself, I've cast on two pairs in the last 48 hours that will be mine if I have to turn into Voldemort and conquer the world to be sure of it - LOL.

Next week, I will present my finished project, re-configure the special dinner on the right day, and pretend that I am a gracious and giving soul but - know this - hell hath no fury like a woman who's been deserted by her own handspun yarn. It's bad enough that the one time in so many years I can't remember that I actually have the knitted gift I'm making someone ready on time, it happens to be the one I am most reluctant to part with. If he doesn't worship them. If he doesn't moan when he puts them on his feet (which are, btw, huge and so eternally boring to knit for that I've now asked Thing 1 to start surveying any prospective boyfriends and asking their shoe size, kindly weeding out the larger shoe sizes so that I can be assured I'll have no ghastly gift sock knitting sizes on the horizon) and promise to ever more keep them as kindly and gently as he would a soul mate - I shall probably hiss, arch my back, and scratch his eyes out. Until then, I am off to spin something that has sparkle and colors in it that I know he'll abhor. In fact, I'm thinking of changing my favorite color from green to something totally anti-huscreature like hot pink - only I despise hot pink, too. I mean, urgh! How does this happen?

Time to Frolic

2009-06-08T12:27:00.004-04:00

This year’s Fiber Frolic was just so awesome that I cannot seem to put it into words. So, here, let me try another way. I’ll write you a picture of it and include some photos for visual reference should your imagination fail you and have a blip while you’re seeing it, which, and I know this is shocking, happens to me quite a lot.

As you can see from the glaring background in this pic, the sunny early summer Maine days couldn’t have been better than this weekend. I mean, atmosphere wise (weather, surroundings which included fiber happy peoples and fiber happy animals all talking about their fiber passions together, and the cool breezes and warm sun bliss mingling with one another) I had to pinch myself a couple of times just to believe it was real. It was a beautiful day, indeed, for the llamas to strut their proud selves around and do a little drill team action. The llama drill team is a fun end to the fair going day – the last hour of the show when the llama mamas and papas (be they children or adults) lead their long lashed babes out onto the grounds and perform many amazing feats. It usually begins with some enthusiastic marching.

It quickly turns to some slow dancing to sappy love songs that you wouldn’t think you’d get all sentimental about but, ya’ll, that is the llama’s magic power – they just make you feel all dreamy and wispy like. By the time that spell has played out, those songs have changed again to some serious partner dancing and then a few line dancing tricks at the end. I’ve been going to the Frolic for many years and vending for quite a few of those and the llama drill team has always been a part of that. Even the skeptics who walk into the arena like they will remain un-phased by the llama’s sweet powers stumble out of there with the silliest smiles on their faces…..that, too, is fun to watch!

But, really, who am I to talk? I had plenty of silly smiles on my face this weekend, too. Muchly (grammar kill alert – I’ve had only 10 hours total sleep this weekend so there is no brain space for grammar) due to those of you who came by the booth to say hi, to shop, or to hug and share the conversation that is the love of fiber. It is intoxicating to be surrounded by great people and be able to unabashedly throw down our love of wool and its hosts. At least, that is the excuse I am using for having a little falling down in the fleece tent that resulted in landing on some fleeces that smiled the happy smile of wool at me and called me ‘mama’ and, henceforth, are sitting on the couch and recliner right now like they have become family members or something. It was the ‘sharing the love of wool with friends old and new’ fumes that just got to me. There was a bit of coopworth that winked at me and said, “you know, you’d like to blend me with some of your Cotswold fleeces, wouldn’t you?” and I just trembled under its touch and said, ‘uuuuuhmm, yeah.’ Then, there’s a coopworth/corriedaleX steel gray fleece that said it wants to be blended with Storm’s dark Cotswold fleece because they are slightly different tones of grey but both highly lusterous and crimpy – it was a practical approach to seduction that this one took. The others – well, they just batted their eyes and flashed their farm tags and happened to belong to some fellow local treasured wool growers so it was just a given that they were coming home to be with me in wool heaven – LOL.

There was some shopping of non-fleecy orientation but I still managed to come around to the same theme when I stopped over in the Sunshine Pottery (which I cannot find a link for, sorry) booth just down the row from us in the barns and found these beautiful frog beads (any hooves people out there know exactly how much I adore frogs as this month’s hooves were in praise of a special little frog we love in Maine – enough to drive out in the middle of nowhere at night and roll down the windows – if you don’t happen to be lucky enough to live very rurally and get to hear them all the time – just to hear their song) and, of course, a huge sheep button….couldn’t.pass.it.up! I headed over to Raku Beads – another great bead/button vendor at Fiber Frolic and some of the friendliest people I’ve ever met. We visit their booth every year and they are always a joyful encounter. I got these gorgeous green Raku buttons for a sweater and bought Thing 1 a bead I know she’d been adoring. It is made with a Maine clay that apparently takes the glaze completely spontaneously – making every single bead totally unique = Awesome! Here’s a little bit about Raku Beads taken from the tag:
” RAKU is a way of firing pottery first used in 16th century Japan. The hand formed beads are painted with two or three coats of blaze, fired on rods in a small kiln and removed while red hot. They are plunged into a tub filled with crushed leaved or sawdust which bursts into flame – a lid is then fitted into place. The fires consumes all the oxygen in the container causing the glaze to reduce and change colors. The beads are cooled in water after which the soot much be scrubbed off by hand. The rapid firing and cooling gives each piece its wonderful crackle and luster. So much work for each little bead – Enjoy!”

Of course, one of my favorite parts of the frolic was getting to hug, visit and laugh with Boogie from Spunky Eclectic. I hardly ever get to see her but always when I do it is an absolute fun time! I had to sneak over to her booth and snag some Spunky loot . On my way over I did counsel myself to remember to not just grab what I like but to also play outside my color range a bit. And, duh, because grabbing everything I like might have left Boogie with an empty booth - LOL! I totally failed at the ‘not staying in your color happy range’ thing as I’m sure you can see by all the earthy tones and greens I bought but you do have to give me some credit in that I tried new fibers (as you shall see when I stop floundering and drooling over my fiber loot pics and get back to describing) and that my buttons, new Spunky loot and the handspun sock I was knitting on over the weekend in my ‘Nature Walk’ colorway – do all coordinate. So, while I may be firmly rolling only in the love, love, love green colors at the moment, I am, at least, matching and all – snork. Okay, the Spunky loot , let's see - there was a bit of ‘Aspen’ in her merino/bamboo base. I love ‘Aspen’ and the idea of trying in it something different that my usual Spunky addiction which is her BFL top sort of thrilled me in a way I cannot explain. Naturally, that meant I needed 2 of them. There was a want of mine for some sock spinning and then I spotted some shiny stuff in the corner. I swear, it is hard to keep your head in Boogie’s booth – it’s so inviting and so colorful and well, you just feel totally relaxed and happy. I must have stood before the merino/tencel roving for at least ten minutes trying to decide which braid I wanted. I settled on ‘Midnight Run’ (bottom right corner of the pic) – all green and happy and shiny – can’t wait to spin that one up! There was some bending of the ‘no BFL this time, try something else, too’ rule but, ya’ll, you knew there would be. I snagged a bit of ‘Riverwalk’ BFL (top middle of loot heap) but, in my defense, it was a giftie for the huscreature – just his kind of colors and he’s been spinning more lately so I wanted to let him know it’s okay if he spins some other woman’s fibers, too – I think (casts a raised eyebrow in his direction just to keep him in line) LOL. He loved it!

The frolic was a hopping good time but today is Monday so, naturally, there is not enough coffee in the world, me thinks (yawn and repeats resolution to self to be in bed by 10 tonight to catch up on sleep). And, as the wheel rolls, so do we need to – what with the garden still naked and the seeds starting to hurl insults reminiscent of the MP/Holy Grail taunting at us as we walk by – that is where we’ll be for the rest of the day. The next few days of rain will settle in nicely today’s seed scatterings and we’ll be so sore from planting tomorrow that we’ll be practically FORCED to sit down and spin for a bit in the evening……provided the sheep are not plotting revenge for being left alone all weekend and planning to destroy our garden fences just to show us they remember how quickly that big brown square turns into a sheep’s hungry bliss also known as peas, carrots, corn and tomatoes. We were planning to plant Memorial Day weekend but the weather was just not cooperative – wet, cold and we’ve have a few frosts since then so, instead, we just busied ourselves with compost spreading and fleece stealing instead. But, we’re really excited, even with the super late start, about the garden this year. This is the first year since we’ve been growing in these two gardens (herbs/salad greens outstide the kitchen and the ‘other’ veggies farther off the road) that we are feeling really good about the soil. Good soil takes time to build and as it was formerly just brush fields, that ‘time’ was about 5 years. But, applying liberally composted sheep manure every year plus some calcium/seaweed/fish amendments has finally resulted in some seriously rich, lovely black soil…I’m off to gear up my defenses against the vampires with wings (mosquitoes) and head out to fling seed!

My Mannequin and I are 'Together Again'

2009-06-05T21:42:00.004-04:00

Well, the 'finish or die' spree that I claimed to be going on in the last post was not a success and I lacked the fortitude to really push the concept to its eventual end. In the end, I am a wimp and also the first to look to a 'plan B' when failure looms apparent. So, plan B was to try to find something I could accomplish. Back in my teaching days, we called these 'success days'. I really, really needed one, too!

I began with what I seem to be able to do in spite of any other looming chaos that spreads across the pages of our days here on the funny farm - spin, of course! This is some corrie/targhee/cotswold/silk blended 'Gold Dust Woman' roving that we made up in the mill last week. It was oober springy and practically spun itself which is good because I had no plan whatsoever. It turned out to be 265 yds of dk wgt sparkly gold bliss. checks off a smiley face on the success day chart....

In addition, I needed a quick, certain, and preferably orgasmic knitting experience. I know, I have high expectations - LOL. About 6 months ago, I promised my dear friend of some 20+ years, "h" that I'd make her a handspun hat. Well...errr, Christmas came and went and I felt like a heel when she sent us the nicest and most thoughtful gift and I sent a card and an IOU. Her birthday is this week and I still had nothing. A few things about H: 1) She loves color and music and happy stuff and 2) she is really hard to buy or make for because she has better taste in those giftie things than I. So, I did what a knitter who needs a success will do - I made something I've already made a few times that was really, really quick. Yes, I do believe I need help because I have knit yet another calorimetry. I can't help it. I love to wear them, love to knit them and what else can be so functional and give you such joy in just over 1/2 skein of handspun yarn?

Brace yourself, Lorraine, I know you've told me how Cookie (my mannequin, not the delightful person) creeps you out. I just can't help it because I haven't washed my hair in two days so there's just nooooo way I'm modeling this thing. Cookie is back. And she's wearing the Calorimetry knit out of 'cabaret' batts - another of the Happy Hooves batt colorways. They've been popping into the shop from time to time and will likely be there next weekend as well. They are, as you can see - a shameless bout of sensual colors like cobalt, green, purple, gold, brown and all with sari silk and sparkles that just make you say (insert inappropriate noises here and, oh boy, this may have to be a private moment) mmmmmmm. Ahem, looks like that covered all the desired outcomes of this knit:)

Yes, Cookie and I have been on timid terms for too long. I mean, I guess I'm small because it really started to turn bad when I caught her and huscreature in the studio in a questionable exchange. He said he was just moving her but, well, it was an odd way to go about it is all I'm saying. There was also the problem with her name. I named her long before I was completely enthralled with Cookie A's work and, for a while, I considered changing her name. We tried a few but they didn't work out and I swear she spit on me once when I tried "Lily" on her for size. It just seemed odd to take Cookie A's classes and such and feel like at any moment I might get nervous and say something dumb like, "I have a head on my desk that has the same name as you". Believe me, I am capable of such horrid goofiness. In the end, though, her name just fit her and with Cookie A. I'll have to take my chances. One doesn't want to go creeping out one's sock knitting guru, you know what I mean?

Really, though, I've missed Cookie the Mannequin. We used to talk. She used to sparkle and smile when she modeled my knits. I've forgiven her her tempting the huscreature - even though he says she still flirts with him from time to time when I'm not in the studio. I gave her back her name and we're on speaking terms...I guess that's a start. In this photo, she's really getting the the photo shoot groove and sporting a necklace of 'carmelita' roving - a blend of our chocolate merino/corriedale X fleeces, some dyed cotswold and crossbred fleeces and a hint of silk. Doesn't she have a seductive gaze? LOL.

Speaking of huscreature, I should go help him load the car for the Fiber Frolic tomorrow. He must be getting tired or something because a JuneBug flying across the living room startled him. In no time, our brave kitty, Boulder, jumped across the room and exhibited masterful hunterly skills to protect his people. What a guy! Hope to see some of you at the Fiber Frolic this weekend!

Excuse me, but, where can I find morning?

2009-05-28T15:11:00.002-04:00

You know that time of day when you do those things like, waking, dressing, starting the day - that part where the sun rises and the cool of the day begins to retreat to summer sun? Yeah, that part - it starts with an 'm'. I dare not speak its name anymore because I'm trying to sneak up on it, catch it in my light bug net, and put it into a sample jar so I can study it and try to find out how to multiply it. Because, around here, it seems to have become extinct. In fact, the days sort of feel like waking/etc. all happens in 10 mns or less and then it's just run around like a bat out of hell until you are forced to prepare an evening meal which only settles in your starving belly and makes you lethargic until you crawl into your bed, where you last glimpsed the elusive time, and begin grunting and snoring and hoping for a better chance at seeing the dwindling stock of morning the next day.

Part of the problem with the disappearing mornings isn't really a problem at all. In fact, it is like - stupendously good news. In fact, I only mention it here because it has munched away on the dwindling stock of mornings a bit. Huscreature and I are thrilled, though, because we're taking yet another step into our eventual fiber goal and are running a mill which is totally thrilling. Now, we can make some of our batts (not all, the batts are still going to be sticking around so if you're a fan of them, do not worry) into rovings - but make them just like the batts. It's all been great fun but some of the most surprising fun is the random sort of rovings we've been creating on the big ole machine we lovingly call, "Millie". The pic on the top left is a roving we just sort of threw together that we're calling 'Sandy'. It's a bamboo/wool blend and I guess the yarn next to it is kind of an indication as to how excited I was to spin it up - LOL. Ya'll - I'm only going to say this about how beautifully this machine turns the humble fleece into something from out of this spinner's world and that is this "like buttah!". Really.

There's been some colorways done, none of which I have a pic of today - we're on day two of gray, wet, dreary weather and I just can't seem to make my camera be my friend....hmmm, would it do well to mention, here, that I usually take my pics in those now missing morning hours for good light? But, here's a pic of some 'Marie Laveau' yarn I spun from said maniacal, crazed, color blending from outta this world sessions on the ole Millie. Like it's complex and wildly magical namesake, it has some of just about every color on a purple background. That glisten is due both to some sparkles AND because I 'spilled' some silk in there. Oops (looks around all innocent like before grinning ear to ear and clapping like a little kid).

The funny thing about having a large chunk of your day go missing is that it tends to instill a panic that convinces one, beyond all rational argument against the notion, that one is doing less. You don't really feel lazy because, dang - you're exhausted beyond all belief. But, you do feel like you just don't get much done. Naturally, this sends you on a 'finishing up everything I need to do if it kills me' stretch and then, well, realizing all the neat stuff you ARE doing becomes kind of tough to do. Like, for instance, this shawl that I've been working on. I mean, it's not alot of progress, but that's some knitting there that I didn't really count as 'stuff I've done that I wanted/needed to do'. And the yarn I just showed you is for a lace patterned border on the bottom of the shawl so, clearly, the ole brain is still able to coordinate, set goals, and at least give a meager attempt to achieve them. Likewise, I made some 3 ply sock yarn from the 'sari' batts and that also didn't get counted. I had a whole dyeing day that I didn't give myself credit for and there are two secret sock projects I'm working fairly steady on as well. And all of this without the help of morning. Should it return, I feel fairly optimistic that I could do even more. But, as it's nearly 4pm and I've managed to do half of my chores and work projects today but have not managed to brush my hair, yet, I am losing hope.

Morning, my love, please come home:)

Fear of Finishing?

2009-05-17T20:14:00.002-04:00

The weirdest thing happens to me when coming up on the finish of a project. I used to think it was a morphed form of the dreaded second sock syndrome but, alas, it happens with nearly everything I knit and it seems to be less of a syndrome and more of a temporary sort of lackluster interest that is usually followed up by some real zeal to finish a project.

It almost never takes as long as it took for me to finally finish off the second foot of these 'Rolling Thunder' socks by Sivia Harding. I could, I suppose, blame it on second sock syndrome but I don't think that would be fair. The truth is, I loved knitting this pattern. The beading proved too much a challenge for car knitting so I had to leave it at home alot - that could also be an excuse at the ready but, well, it really comes to this: I knit the first sock like a fevered demon needing a fix. I ripped also through the beaded portion of the second sock but, once I got to the heel flap, which, by the way, is one of my FAVORITE parts of knitting a sock, I sort of stalled out...for nearly two months. That dramatic of a finish fear strike is not unheard of in bigger projects, but rarely makes its way into my sock knitting. I am positively smitten with the socks, though - knit from my "Mardi Gras" colorway and oober comfy whilst still being all fancy with the red beads. I've already thought of two other colorways I'd love to knit in this pattern so, clearly, it's not the yarn, not the pattern, just this 'thing' that happens when I'm this close (makes a dramatically shrinking gesture with her forefinger and thumb) to finishing. I got down to business the other day and finished these puppies and then proceeded to wear them the following day with much pride - as if I'd forgotten all about the 2 months they spent in hibernation. What is wrong with me?

Fortunately, that stalling fear of finishing was nearly invisible for these wonderful socks. They are the Serpentine Socks I was working on last week. Becky asked in the comments about the yarn I'm using. It's another of my colorways (Lady of the Lake) in a sport wgt merino yarn (love X's 1000). I knit them for a size 9 foot and had plenty of yarn in the 250 yd. ball for both socks to have a long 8 inch cuff plus nearly 2 inches of ribbing. Here, you can see what a dork I am because I have my pants tucked into my socks. I just happened to be having a 'pajama day' which is when I wear comfy stretchy pants that I wouldn't be caught dead out in public in....the socks were so long that I had to pull them over the leg of the pants or you wouldn't be able to see the pattern. I only mention it because some people have expressed concern that for , say, a size 10 women's foot, one skein wouldn't be enough. I had 25 yds. left over so I'm guessing that if one was satisfied with a 6 or 7 inch cuff, that size would still be doable out of one skein. The yarn is awesome quality and I must admit it felt nearly sinful to be able to knit them on size US 4 needles.

They didn't, however, escape the paw print of my fear of finishing. I was just about done with them (just reaching the ribbing) when I put them down for three days and then, as if programmed by aliens to resume, picked them up, madly knit the ribbing and cast them off within the hour. Weird, huh? So, I pull out my trusty list of proposed reasons for why this happened, again:
1. Was it the pattern?
Answer: No Way! I love this pattern. Wendy writes patterns that I truly find a joy to knit - complex enough to be pretty but still simple enough to memorize and knit on the go. It was definitely not the pattern this time, either.
2. The yarn?
Answer: Uh-uh! This is a luxurious Louet base that is springy, lustrous, and a thrill to dye and knit. No way it was the yarn....because it is also one of my favorite colorways. You can find it in stock at the Loopy Ewe.
3. Second Sock Syndrome?
Answer: Can't be. You see, these socks were originally my first attempt at two socks at a time using magic loop. They were born at the Spring Fling but I had only had my Wendy book in my hot little hands one day before leaving for the trip. After my first night in the hotel, in which I perused the book with glee, I knew I would frog the two stockinette feet I'd knit and re-start them as the Serpentine Socks....which I did. So, knit two at a time using magic loop - can't be second sock syndrome.

I guess it just comes down to the bare bones....I've never been very good at finishing anything. Coming up with ideas? Love to! Making ideas happen? A challenge I can really sink my teeth into? Loving, adoring, nearly creepily cherishing my knits and yarn stuffs? I have an almost perverse relationship with them. Do you notice a missing step between idea + making ideas happen + (insert finishing of items here) + cherishing them? pulls ears over eyes and slaps head to desk.....

Giddy

2009-05-13T14:05:00.003-04:00

SPOILER ALERT! If you've not yet received your May Happy Hooves batts, there will be spillage of spoilers throughout this post so, if you'd still like to be surprised - claps hands over her own eyes to show you but gets too easily confused because she can't see you.....what did you expect?

I've become smitten with these batts in a way that is almost embarrassing to admit. Most of the time, when I'm working with color, I'm loving every minute of it. But, sometimes, there are those colors that just live to irritate, shake you up, and turn everything you thought you knew about yourself on its head. Since that head is your own, it is pretty shocking when it happens. That's just how these batts came to be. I was walking around, thinking up some new colors, and then a memory struck, a kid's voice was dancing around outside in the yard, and the goldfish were sitting there staring at me with hostile intent because they know I can't say 'no' to them when they're acting like they're starving to death and that I'll be spineless and go feed them 'just another pinch'. This happens pretty regularly, which is probably why we have gigantic goldfish. Anyway, that's how it started. Some thoughts, some memories, some familial and familiar sounds and actions, and a repetitive beat that caused me to reflect on the many times I've sat on the floor with a kid in my lap and one or two sitting beside me, and read Dr. Seuss' "One Fish, Two Fish" to a captivated audience. It's not just that one, though - I could tear up at the thought of the times when the Things were tots and they'd have a bad day and I'd be sure to read them "Oh the Places You'll Go" before bed - watching them feel a little lighter, a little happier, and a little more hopeful about the next day. Or the first time I read Thing 2 the Lorax and he and his sister and I sat on the living room floor with tears streaming down our faces and we all had to go have a hot chocolate WITH marshmallows. Or, years later when watching a PBS documentary on him, discovering that he, like many humans, had a dark side we'd not ever imagined and had - in addition to enlightening and filling us with hope, also done some things we found profoundly hurtful. People are so confounding and beautiful and freaky sometimes.

The next part took maybe 5 seconds. I mean, it HAD to be turquoise, red, gold and bold. It had to. I'll be the first to admit that I cringed, shook my head and said, 'no way, not doing that' at first but, then, the whole thing started to grow on me...and a few more shades crept in as well. Before I knew it, it was a done deal. Still, I pushed it away and treated it like an uninvited guest. I mean, I made it but I wasn't going to LOVE it or anything because, you know, it's 'no my colors'. Right.......

So, then I started to doubt that I'd like spinning it. Too loud, too scary, too much. I figured the yarn would be AWFUL, too. I was really looking at the glass half full, it's just that I pictured it being half full of 'yyyyuuuuck'. Again, I looked for it to rear its head but it.just.did.not.happen. I started spinning and instantly liked what I saw. I know, head upside down here! I was shocked. Ya'll - I like really, really loud but this stuff just made me want to walk like a funky duck all day and not care a bit about what anyone thought about that. I was feeling kind of....youthful.

By the time I had it plied, I was downright giddy. I mean it. A few times, the kids would walk by me and demand that I fess up right away about whatever it was that had me smiling. They were sure I was up to something, though I vehemently denied anything of the sort but they continued to think I'd lost my marbles or was planning something totally devious. It wasn't the fact that I was smiling - it was the smile that was creeping them out. The sort of smile that says, "I really don't care about anything other than smiling and being happy in this very moment." That one always trips them up until they realize that I'm still going to cook dinner and such but they just have to get used to the goofy smile.

I am totally digging the 2 ply. I love that the colors stay somewhat true but just gallop and dance over each other enough to make the yarn so happy that you just, well, you must really - you know, turn your mouth up in a U shape (gestures like a total goober at herself smiling).

I Navajo Plied the other bobbin - wanting to have some stripes of the colors to incorporate into the sock with the 2 ply. I know, I know, I've been on quite a '3 ply for socks or nothing' bend for a while but I'm starting to pull back to using some 2-ply yarns for sock knitting again. I still adore the squishiness of 3 ply for socks but I don't know if it is essential for all my socks as I'm finding that my 2 ply socks are wearing just fine. I figured the Navajo Ply would be good for a band around the leg of stripes and for the heels and toes while I'll use the 2 ply for the body and foot of the socks. I mean, can't you tell I haven't really thought about this yarn much? LOL.

I have been working on some other projects other than the "One Fish, Two Fish" batts. I'm around the heel on my Serpentine Socks and feeling like I'm on the home stretch with them. I love this pattern and do think I'll be making more than one pair of these. The stitch pattern is simple enough that I can still knit it in the car, store, place of eternal waiting whilst raising teenagers who all have special things they do or take lessons for, etc., which is totally awesome because I love the wavy way of it. Hoping to finish them today or tomorrow....

Oh, and the garden....it's just sort of sitting there looking menacingly at us. I felt just a little vindicated in not having planted yet as we just had a frost last night but, still, it looms inevitable as the mosquitoes and black flies are in full force and that only means one thing - Planting Time!

Happy Mudder's Day!

2009-05-10T13:47:00.003-04:00

When my youngest was a babe, he had the worst time with the 'th' sound. Really, though, it is a recurring torture for kinder aged kids as well, is it not - with those teeth falling out everywhere, growing back too big for them to all fit, and tangling the tongue? But, when you've got three little ones, the oldest missing four front teeth, the middle one potty training, and the youngest in diapers - it feels more like poetic justice that they all call you 'Mud' or 'Mudder' as the case may be.

Now, though, my babes are bustling teenagers and pre-teens and I have to say that even though babies are cute and cuddly and love you entirely without any question, regret since you didn't make them the kind of cake they wanted on their birthday, or retribution because you grounded them EVEN THOUGH you warned them repeatedly that you would if their behavior didn't change for the better and it only got worse, I am totally LOVING this part of our journey together. I've waited for the 'terrible teens' that I so often hear about - thinking and reasoning that this must be a natural stage of development to prepare them and me for the time when our days will not be spent entirely together but I only find that as the days go on, I love being with them even more. So, that's all I had planned for this weekend. Spent the whole day with the kids yesterday, just running errands, taking Thing 2 to a game, catching Thing 1 chatting up cute boys in the bookstore - AGAIN, and listening to Thing 3 tell me for about the fortieth time what he wants for his birthday in August because he's turning 10 and he's sure I'll forget just how special that is - LOL. Still, it was the bestest day - one that we topped off with a huge dinner and long talks at the table afterwards.

I was pretty prepared to wake up this morning, tackle the garden, and get on with 'normal' life. Here's where the older kid part REALLY changed that. It would seem that huscreature has become wise to the powerful genius that is the Loopy Ewe. Her 'wishlist' (most probably of which he was directed to by one of those sweet teen/pre-teen babes) feature of her store made it possible for them to shop for me without risking repeating the tragedy that was the year huscreature bought me the talking fish that sang, 'Don't worry, be happy'....a story I've told too many times to keep repeating but, ya'll, it ended badly. The gist of it is the fish woke my sleeping baby one day and, well, it was found later badly mangled and in the trash can...'nough said.

This time, though? They had me speechless, in tears, and then jumping around the room like a little kid on Christmas morning. You see what my little loopy is sitting on in this pic? Yeah, that's the very shade, style, and possibly even the one I groped whilst at Spring Fling but put back because I'd already gone over my budget and wanted to walk out of there with some serious yarnage. It would seem that the sneaky people I adore managed to get it, hide it, and keep thing 3 from spilling the beans about it. WOOT! I'm smiling a mile wide!

The Namaste bags are sooo cool and just what I was looking for. I wanted a bag that combined a purse and a knitting bag, but one that kept the knitting secure and separate from all the 'stuff' that goes into one's purse to try to mangle knitting projects. This center zip portion is for just that, the WIP, which, on this day, happens to be a pair of sport wgt. 'Serpentine' socks from Wendy's awesome book. You can't tell, now, because Loopy's showing off the compartments for me but, when I'm done, I zip up my WIP and it is happy and safe in the bag. The right side of the bag is plenty big for make-up (the side zipper pouch), a hair brush (yes, I do use one, despite my electrified do), wallet, etc. and the zipper pouch on the outside on that side holds my keys, change purse, etc. There's even two side pockets perfectly made for the phone and ipod to hang in side by side because it seems I always have one of them attached to my face these days - LOL. Then, on the left, PLENTY of room for knitting notions (tape measure, stitch holder, stitch marker, notepad, etc) and even a few books or patterns. I mean, can you tell I ripped my old knitting bag and purse apart instantly to pack my Namaste and still nearly fall over when I realized I still have enough space for a sweater in there? Do you think this means I love it?

To top it all off, I think this is the first time in 16 years that I can prove that the huscreature must have actually listened to something I said. I swear the man can mutter, convincingly, "mmhm, yeah, that's great, honey," in his sleep. Seriously! Recently, I've been telling him how I've pretty much exclusively changed over to size '0' knitting needles for our EKF 90/10 sock yarn. He did what I used to do at the thought of '0's and cringed but then I explained to him that it really doesn't affect the gauge that much nor does it take any more time or strain on the hands to use them but that I just like the way the knitted socks FEEL better. Then, he was doubting me so I got out a sock knitted on 1.5's and a sock knitted on the 0's and he stuck his hand in (thank goodness because the man has feet that wouldn't even fit in the heel of my socks) and felt around for a moment and, then, he was hooked on the feeling, too. I might have very subtly suggested that the 'hiya hiya' needles in Sheri's shop really appealed to me - so lightweight and so strong at the same time which mystifies me because, ya'll know, I'm a wooden needle chic - or at least I thought I was until I started knitting cables and such into socks. Anyhoo, he must have taken the hint because I also got two sets of size '0' hiya hiya's and, with my coffee/knitting time this morning, cast on some Cookie A. socks with them and, ahem, if I may say so myself, the needles are smokin'! Here's 30 mns. of knitting time counting the furrowed brow time of reading over the pattern quickly.... If knitting has done anything for me, it is that it has taught me to read first, though I stubbornly defy the lesson most of the time. heh heh.

So, I'm pretty much feeling spoiled and lucky beyond anything I can imagine to have another day of kid/farm/garden time planned with some knitting/spinning this afternoon. Being a Mom is reward enough for me - I'm loving this journey all the way through. But, being a Mom and being at the stage when you start to really be able to see the kindness, friendship, and generosity you've poured into them mirrored back at you? Well, it just makes you feel so happy you could cry all day....but you shouldn't. You should enjoy it, savor it, and be ever grateful that you're on the path. Hence, the goofy grin I cannot seem to remove from my face, nor do I really want to.

I hope all you Mudders out there, be you Mothers of children, nurturers of creatures, or mother spirits to the communities around you - have a goofy wide smile on your faces today! Happy Mudder's Day!

A Little Sugar In My Bowl....

2009-05-01T13:33:00.002-04:00

The funny thing about coming back from 'vacation' is that the stuff in your 'Oh My Gosh, you better get this done TODAY' box is still there. Whuh? So, this week has been kinda all about juggling balls of fire and that, as you may have guessed, gets tiresome after one has successfully juggled the balls a few times and then gets tired and distracted and a ball lands in their lap and singes. That's when it's time to jump OUT of the hamster wheel and get your funky brain working again. At least, that is my excuse for wimping out of the design I've been manically working on since the day I left Cookie A's class at the Fling and turning to something a little more whimsical - the ever practical and never over-cooked 'knitted veggies'. Yes, I'm okay, why do you ask? I mean, I know a knitted food item is neither usable OR practical - wait a minute - unless you are doing a 'knit along' with a theme for garden things - then it kind of does become practical - I love it when things work out that way, don't you?

It all started with this 3 peas in a pod pattern. Not that I actually followed the pattern - ya'll know I can hardly ever do that. I tend to look at a pattern, think it over, and then dive in without a life raft. I'll usually put some music on to set the mood a little. Okay, just one of Nina's is never enough - this one feels pretty good, too. On a bigger or more complex project, I'll be humbled pretty quickly into the process and have to go back and find the pattern/instructions/manual again and move forth with more reverence for the 'rules' but the 3 peas in a pod was right up my alley(meaning VERY SIMPLE) and done on the car ride to town the other day. Yes, that's handspun I used for my practical and useful knitted veggies - the glistening peas are crocheted with 'fern' batts - silky, soft, and sparkly. It may have been overkill for a knitted vegetable but, you know, I'm nothing if I'm not a drama queen - LOL- sparkly peas, who'd of thought?

The carrots are lion suede - just something I had laying around and topped with some handspun, coiled mermaid wool/silk yarn. Again, a bit fancy for a knitted vegetable but, I plan on holding onto these carrots for a looooooong time so, you know (begins to look around the room in hopes of finding someone who looks crazier than herself at the moment - dang - no one!) I knew, after the carrots, that I was lost in this whimsical journey and had no intention of stopping. I planned a handspun salad - complete with knitted leaves and cherry tomatoes - a cucumber cut in half with bobble seeds, a few roses, and something NO ONE wants to see in their garden - a few sheep. Alas, I have to return to the Reality Room today and get the hooves batts ready to ship on Monday so, I had to stop with this - a handspun potato from my 'turkish delights' batts that I had in the shop a while back. I mean, you have to admit, it is a reaaaaaalllly purdy potato, non? Look at how it sparkles and shines - Woot!

So, what are you knitting?

Totally Loopy

2009-04-28T14:36:00.003-04:00

It's Tuesday (yes, I know you already know that but I think I just figured it out so walk with me a while, won't you? LOL) and even though I've been officially back from the Spring Fling for 1.5 days - I could swear it's only been 10 minutes. This is to say that I had a super great time and that life went on fairly well without me and all should be fine and good and is really but I'm still VERY exhausted and SUPER excited and have sooooo many ideas, faces, conversations, eventful moments, etc. swimming around my head that I actually resent that special need that the body has to shut itself down for hours on end (I mean, I could be knitting then if I wouldn't fall into that ~~sleep~~ shutdown and poke myself with sock needles) when I would otherwise like to be trying out every.single.thing I learned/thought/dreamed up over the weekend.

Being an oober dork is not easy but I have managed to maintain that distinction by escaping the fling with no pictures. You read that right.....I never took the camera out of the bag. It was weird, really, because I meant to. But, then it seemed everywhere I went people were snapping pics and I just sort of forgot to take some of my own. I blame it on the math that I was doing while working on my homework for the awesome design classes I took with Cookie A., whom I lurve to pieces and will just have to follow around like an unworthy puppy for all of eternity. If you haven't gotten to, and you get the chance to, do take one of her classes. It was really fun, super inspiring, and I, yes, even I, learned alot - so there - now you know she is a teacher with super powers LOL. Unfortunately for me, I didn't receive her book until two days after I left so I couldn't read it before the fling or get her to sign it for me - a favor for which I am considering rewarding amazon.com with a knitted piece mirroring some vile bodily fluids or something. Even seething with a boiling passion to horrify for having to wait two weeks for the book I was DESPERATELY NEEDING did not spoil my excitement for jumping into it upon my arrival at home and, ya'll, it is a must have.

I nearly squealed with excitement and fell out of my chair hyperventilating when I got to meet Cookie A., Wendy AND Anne in the same day. Seriously, I had to go up to my room that night and just stare at the wall for a minute in awe of it all. I only hope the bug-eyed gaze of panic on my face didn't scare them or creep them out too badly. I don't think so, though, because I do remember being able to actually carry on conversations with them. At least, I think I remember it (giggles).

But, truly, I have to say a great big 'thank you' to Sheri & Family and Janice and the Loopy Elves. I've had a long time crush on Sheri. I think I'd like to be like her when I stop being a total freak and grow up. You can tell alot about a person when you meet their family and Sheri's family only backs up my long held notion that Sheri is a phenomenal human being. It was an honor to meet them all and cute beyond words to see them working together in the shop. So, there's that part of her that I just think is deeply beautiful. Also, though, is the professional yet ever kind and joyful person that she is. In case you were wondering, it is contagious. When you stand next to her, and breathe the kind and joyful fumes, you feel better. Without even knowing it, you'll find yourself being more kind and joyful because of it. I just love people like that, don't you? People who inspire you, who challenge you to meet and exceed your own boundaries, and who share their knowledge, enthusiasm, and compassion with you while you're taking that bold step - that's the sum of the privilege it has been to work with Sheri. I hope it goes on forever.

So, I like to think I have some things in common with Sheri. One thing I know we both have in common is the love of being 'givers'. I can hardly go anywhere these days without taking a few presents along. I think I've been that way all my life. I totally dig the feeling of giving someone a present but Sheri really showed me how to do it very well. When we checked in, we received a gift bag that BLEW MY MIND. Over the weekend and with many sessions at the hotel of petting my stash enhancements, I got the gifties all mixed up in the stuffs I bought on the shopping trip to TLE but the coffee cup included in our Knittubes got constant use in the hotel room (and in my studio this morning). It's seen, here, being hugged by some alpaca/silk roving I bought on my shopping trip from Gale's Art. Beautiful jewel tones - just like I like it. I've been petting it much so it's looking a little rougher around the edges than it did when I first brought it to my hotel room to, uhm, 'get to know it'. heh heh

I couldn't wait to go to The Loopy Ewe to score some loot - which I did. Starting from the left of this photo, I tried out a few ball of the elasticized Panda Cotton - I'm hoping to get those made up into some fiery socks for Thing 3's August birthday. He's a pretty active kid so I'm thinking the elasticized yarn might make good, rough wearing and stay up all day socks for him. Yeah, you see that mermaid-ish skein next to them on the left? You're right - that is the Wollmeise. I won it for identifying Sheri in a photo - actually, I won a red skein but since the red skein on the far right (schaffer yarns 'nicole' - there's no colorway indicated on the label) was in my giftie tube and the person next to me had a skein of 'tiefer see' Wollmeise - we traded on the spot. Such is the fever one gets when holding the Wollmeise - you instantly know you have a fine gem in your hands and that everyone else in the room knows it, too. Fangs might be shown neath raised lips if a wandering hand comes too close to it. The gorgeous, earthy skein next to it is the Sanguine Gryphon's 'kypria' line - a sw merino/bamboo/nylon base that is soooo, lustrous and soft. The colorway is 'given' and I had to have it. I couldn't seem to capture the subtle turquoise in the skein but I'm betting it will show up more distinctly in the knitting. And, lastly, that twinkling skein there, c'mon, I know you saw it and thought, 'more sparkles?' but, I just HAD.TO.HAVE.IT. It's Dream in Color's 'starry' yarn - a superwash merino with real silver in it. Ahhhhhh.....you want it too, don't you? fangs flare, again, because she already has a pet name for it even though it's real name is 'dusky aurora' Sorry, you can't have it. I am watching my loopy loot with a strong eagle eye....and casting on projects in a fevered flush of ideas.

All that, though, barely scratches the surface of what a great weekend it was. I got to meet so many awesome people and managed to talk about spinning and knitting ALL WEEKEND long without anyone complaining. It was beyond words and I would like to rip some months off the calender so Sock Summit will get here faster and then do the same again for the Fling in 2010. I think I could handling doing it over and over again - with naps in between, of course. Snorks.

Sadly, I didn't have these cool dpn tube protectors before my shopping trip. I say sadly because when I boarded the plane to fly down to the fling, I accidentally dropped two dpns out of my sock and they disappeared into the space between the seat in front of me and the wall. Urgh. Couldn't knit all the way there. I was so exasperated by that knitting withdrawal that I bought a few pairs of circs there and a few sweet souls tried to teach me magic loop and knitting on two circs. I get the concept but my hands just couldn't do it. So, the tubes are my practical solution - they hold your sock so nicely, non? This sock is one I'm knitting in my 'Tia Dalma' colorway - the patter is 'Constrictor' by Jeannie Cartmel. I love her designs and this pattern is a super easy but very visually exciting stitch combo. I was glad to come home to it but it's been sadly neglected whilst I play with my new design that I started in Cookie A's class.

Love Your Mother....

2009-04-22T18:48:00.003-04:00

This is going to be a ridiculously brief post but as I'm supposed to board a plane in less than 12 hours and haven't even STARTED packing, yet nor is there dinner on my table - well, you know why, then, it is both ridiculous and brief - LOL.

I'm heading out for a weekend of luxury beyond what I'm at all used to and some really great company of fellow yarnoholics at the Spring Fling - Woot! If I can get over my airline stress - all will be well.

But, I couldn't leave town or the blog without acknowledging this very important day. Happy Earth Day, ya'll - and if you haven't already - find some way to honor and love your Mother this evening. We all took Thing 3 to see Disney's "Earth" today - not exactly an act of earth appreciation such as would have been some gardening, some nature walking, etc. BUT as we live off the grid and pretty much fine tune our daily life to walking softly - I decided to indulge the boy in a movie that really was pretty awesome. We're PBS geeks so we're pretty spoiled on Nature and other fabulous shows but I have to say - Disney did a good job of not over glossing the delicate balance needed for all creatures (even the two-legged) to prosper and live healthy lives. They're continuing the Earth Day celebrations over the weekend while I'm gone. Thing 3 has long outgrown the swingset I bought for his birthday the first summer we were out here on the farm and it has surely seen too much wear to safely hand it down to another kid. Our dear ewe we call '2' loves the slide as a back scratcher so they're going to set it up in the pasture for her and take the frame (note: I will be away and there will be much cutting of metal posts and cement work, too so I will be a little worried and probably call home 80 times) and set it in cinder blocks and turn it into a greenhouse. What a perfect way to recycle a relic of his kinder years - now that he's growing into his quirky pre-teen years and has taken an avid interest in bonsai. He got to take a seminar last week with a bonsai expert in our area and he's totally jazzed about turning his kiddy swingset into a house for him to grow mini-trees in. I think the kid is wayyyyy cool.

So, I'm off - wheel and fiber and yarn and at least one change of clothes because, a woman has to have her standards - ya know? I can handle being smelly and wearing the same shirt for two days but I simply am not safe in the wide world if I can't spin for a whole weekend - LOL. Have a good weekend!

Crazy People

2009-04-20T13:36:00.002-04:00

You know, April may begin by celebrating foolery but I think it would more aptly be called the month of crazy insanity. Yes, I know that is redundant but so many other things these days are that I feel it is sort of a theme or something. Besides, crazy alone just isn't as dramatic or forceful as I think it needs to be to properly term what happens to people during the spring shift. I mean, come on! Look at the news - there are anniversaries of every horror you can imagine in April. After you're done being horrified, you can find some downright silly crazy insanity as well. Sadly, that sort of fear bearing and perpetuation of inequality for some and presumed righteousness for others isn't contained to one special month - isn't anybody else embarrassed at how slowly we are trending toward embracing diversity and striving for equality for all? Still, April does seem to pump up the volume on those who are standing tall on their soap boxes. They need to move to Maine - where spring is not empowering, but a season of trial. Where gray days are occasionally dotted with sadistically inspiring rainbows and sunny afternoons that can whip you and bring you down with a fuuurrrreeeeezzzing cold night that unabashedly kills off any growth - even those tiny tender spring buds that you were embracing just the day before - holding to hope that winter is soon a memory. They need someone to polish their soap boxes with lard because, you know, nothing humbles you like walking along with a smile on your face and then slipping and falling on your butt in the mud. They need to see that beauty goes way deeper than the outer shell, that what's fair for some should be fair for all, and that even the Queen needs a hug from time to time. Yeah, I like to think of spring in Maine as a meditative practice in humility. And, I stay home alot - as I only have 2 good pairs of jeans and you can only fall so many times before the mud stays through even the meanest washings.

So it takes something pretty special to drag me away from seedling starting (oh, how I long for the garden this summer), from crazy spring happenings on the farm, and from the sanctuary that is my wheel and some happy love surging fiber to spin. Thing 1 and I ventured out this weekend to attend this amazing woman's concert. Woot! Talk about a strong woman who knows how to bend like the willow, change on the wind, and keep energy, hope, and the mother bear spirit alive! Red Letter Year is a phenomenal album but made even better by seeing her live and bubbling with power. It was soo worth the venturing out into crazy land. Even the guy who parks down the street from any seemingly liberal or non-religious venue with his ugly signs and hateful propaganda couldn't phase us that night - we were riding on the wings of some strong girl rocking fumes. If you don't believe me, ask the huscreature - who happened to say something about feminism without thinking first and had the vivid (and apparently scarring) experience of both his wife and his 16 year old daughter cat clawing him slowly to death with their venomous gazes until a full apology was extorted and a reasonable explanation of his remark was accepted.

I wish I was going to this but, alas, I am not. But, if you're able or in the area - it's a show I think one would be crazy to miss. And, just because I know I'll be just returning from the Spring Fling and may forget the day - Happy Birthday Pete!

In case you thought this post was going to be some long testament of my leftly slanting hippie tree huggin feminist ways, well it is. But, there was another power carrying my feet along the 6 blocks we had to scale in 5 minutes to get in the door in time and, wouldn't you know it - it had a bit of girl rocking power in it as well - it was these handspun 'Pandora' batts that I knit into Cat Bordhi's (another totally rocking woman)book - the spiraling corialis socks. Oober squishy, dazzling, comfy, and slightly empowering - they fit right in with my muddy jeans and leather jacket - LOL. It is good that being a fashion statement has just never appealed to me.

Cabin Fever Rescue

2009-04-09T14:54:00.004-04:00

So, that was an interesting week, eh? We've been talking about gemstones alot in our house. Partly because on our little birthday excursion and whilst walking around downtown, Thing 1 and I slipped into a little shop and found some gorgeous raw gemstones. Something very affordable to see your kiddo pick up and dazzle at and so I forked over a few buck so we could each get one or two. It's partly that and partly that Maine is full of fascinating stones and our property is home to some really interesting ones. So, we've been talking about how wild it is that a seemingly boring stone on the outside can be chipped away a little bit and become something fascinating or, when thrown in a rock tumbler and polished - become a gleaming jewel. Fascinating, really - isn't it? Only, if you were to take that process as a theme - it would seem that last week was the tumbling about and not yet feeling pretty part - LOL.

The birthday, however, was awesome. I mean, after all, doncha think there would be one or two stones in the tumbler that you wouldn't mind tumbling into so much? Either because you could have fun talking to that rock or because that rock has a cool tune on it's Ipod or because, well, you know - it's one of those rocks. Sadly, there are very few rocks that you could bump into that would potentially be one of 'those rocks'. Proof, I guess, that life isn't always fair. But, let me get my mind out of the gutter and back on the birthday - it was awesome and, if you are at all curious - she's tiger's eye, carnelian, and citrine and I'm moonstone, rose quartz and bloodstone because, you know, everybody's got a dark side - mwah ha ha ha!

The weekend was crazy. But that's pretty normal and since I live on a funny farm - it seems by now that would be an understood given. Just slather mud all over that and walk around falling on your butt alot in more mud and you basically have a picture of those days...you could insert ghost popping out of closets, too, if you needed the extra adrenaline push but I'm quite okay without it and kinda easy to scare so, please, hold the ghosts on mine.

So, the snow is now all gone and mud is here and the list of things you must do before you cry and fall exhausted into bed hoping nothing wakes you up but also knowing it just probably will happen at least once has just gone from one page, though chocked full, to a spiral notebook of endless lines of things you didn't finish last year, things you must do this year, and things that you've been adding to the back of the list for 5-8 years....and on dwindling sleep because the days are longer and the nights are shorter and you can only derive so much sleep from those fewer hours if you're still being woken up all the time. A cat behaving badly, another cat de-mystifying the butter dish on the table and knocking it off even though it's handmade beautiful pottery that you scored and you treasure it. A kid - which is okay because that's part of the job but still, ya'll, it means being awake! Or any other number of things that could set the dogs off and have you tumble out of bed half awake thinking something grand must be going on and find out it was a noise off in the distance that just annoyed them.

By yesterday, I was feeling the fever in a pretty powerful way. Like, it took all the strength and compassion I had, plus biting my cheek on the side over and over, to keep from bursting into a full blown case of terrible twos in a 38 year old woman's body. Which, unless you've devoted much time to being ultimately attractive in that body by doing things like regular exercise, taking care of yourself, buying nice clothes that fit, accepting that to make them fit you have to know your size, and sleeping....I think sleeping is definitely in there somewhere, is really NOT CUTE. I wasn't sure I'd make it. After all, I'm in sock hell. I finished one pandora handspun sock but could.NOT.FIND the other ball of pandora and have been going out of my mind looking for it. I have one mardi gras sock done and need to finish the second, but have lost the red beads for it. Urgh and urgh and...stomped just two times like a terrible two before she quickly composed herself, again, and tried to pretend it didn't happen....

Then, like magic, I got a package it the mail. I knew it was magic the minute I read the note on the back, "Josette's Emergency SpringThaw/CabinFever Rescue Package". Theresa (tarrilynn) sent me a super package of happy love. A handspun, hand-knit headband/neckwarmer which I love so much! And, the chickie knows me too well - chocolate, coffee, and a whole bunch of new teas to try once I stop sniffing them all because they smell so good. Tea is a full experience, ya know? You have to let all the senses have their fun. Girl, if you're out there, thank you so very much. Within one day of opening your package, the sun returned (which is the reason for the not so good picture that doesn't do justice to your lovely knitting and spinning AT ALL but I couldn't bear to close the curtain as we've had day after day of gray skies and rain), I found the pandora yarn - and have thought of at least 4 places I haven't searched for the red beads and shall once I've gotten a few things done, today. I know, it's this late in the day and I still have hope:)

Not an April Fool,..,...

2009-04-02T13:50:00.003-04:00

Birthdays around our house are not so much a cause for elaborate celebration as an opening to some of the pranksters in the house to release the inner trickster upon the unfortunate birthday-ee. Poor Thing 1, so closely aligned with the day of April Fool's, generally gets an extra dose of mayhem. She very nearly was an April Fool's baby and my DR. laughed out loud when I explained that there was just no way I was going to do that to a daughter of mine. I literally stayed in bed an extra day just to make sure I didn't progress in my labor to prevent her living with such a stigma, on account of the fact that I had an uncle who was an April Fool and, boy oh boy did I watch him get relentlessly harassed about it. Well, sometimes I watched and I sometimes joined in - LOL.

So, when thing 2 came to me while I was wrapping presents this morning with an empty potato strings can and asked that I wrap that up and make it special from him - I completely burst his bubble when I thanked him profusely for offering me the most perfect vessel for her gift. I'd meant to make her a box to store her delicate present but, in a pinch and with some nice stuffing padded in the sides and covered in fabric, this little canister makes a perfect spindle box. All I needed now, I said, was to find that blasted roll of wrapping paper......

We live in a craft house and because of that, there are always tools, papers, yarns that are deemed safe to use for ANYTHING. As that is the case, wrapping paper is a valued commodity in our house - and it is used to just about anything other than wrapping presents. I was then reminded by Thing 3 that I used the last of the wrapping paper for making the pattern pieces for our veils last week...Doh! So, I went stash diving in my fabric ~~hoarding~~ storage and found some red kimono fabric with dragons on it - just up her alley. I wrapped that around the canister with some handspun yarn and packed this little spindle of love for my sweet 16 into it and some Gold Dust Woman silk roving - which I know she lurves. She also got a set of Roses in the Snow batts (her requested birthday batt) some handspun socks which, while taking pics of them on her, I realized that I forgot to tuck in my cast on ends so, guess what I'll be doing while humming along to 'happy birthday' tonight, and tickets to see Ani Defranco later this month....we'll have so much fun. Oh, and I wouldn't be a knitter if I didn't give her an IOU - which I did because I am starting to lose hope that I will finish her Rogue before she's a legal adult :O

Unfortunately, that's not all she got for her birthday. The goofy police surrounded my gifts with other gifts like: a half eaten/stale bag of tortilla chips, some dog vitamins, a bottle of goldfish medicine, a blender, an empty bottle of rum (whut? where did that come from?), an empty salve jar, and some old holey socks. Fortunately, we will leave their silly selves behind this evening and go to dance class and then hit the book store where she'll pick out a book (this is kind of a ritual birthday thing for her because she is a book geek just like her mom) and have a bite to eat sans the parade of empty chip bags, bottles, and pet medications. We'll probably have forgiven them for invading presents hour with their goofiness and invite them to come along, with a raised eyebrow warning NOT to embarrass us in public because, you know, when your'e 16 - pretty much anything your younger brothers do equates to embarrassment in public.

All that done, it still seems to pale in the ways I wanted to make this a very special day. A day to mark how truly blessed I believe I am to be the mother of such a smart, beautiful, and kind-hearted woman as you are, Emma Jane! Happy 16th Birthday, kiddo - I love you!

Purgatory of Spring

2009-03-27T18:39:00.002-04:00

Everyone else is probably well into spring weather by now but not those of us patiently waiting in spring purgatory (aka Maine in March) - LOL. I mean, we kind of deserve it, you know, for having so many beautiful seasons that turn and give us the splendor that makes Maine what it is called, "Vacationland". We get that gorgeous summer of thick with leaves oak and maple trees and the smell of warm pine and spruce wafting through the air. Then, in the fall we get those blazing leaves turning every fiery color imaginable and making scarecrows and pumpkins sexy. The snowy white blanket neath a spruce who's branches are heavy with freshly fallen sparkling snow. Yeah, it just wouldn't be right and just if we could skip from that to tulips blooming without the pause to consider our good fortune in what we call 'mud season'. There's still a bit of snow clinging to the yard in the areas we don't walk often but, for the most part, everything is muddy, squishy, and brown. It's enough to crush your spirit if you don't play. So, play I did. Thing 1 and I were in need of some silk veils for dance class so I made each of us a set of double half-circle veils and dyed them in some eye popping colors. Thing 1's are fire - with a gold rim so that when she whirls them they look like flames....very cool. I asked her to don her mud boots and come outside and whirl them for me but I'm assuming from the glare I got that this meant, 'no, mom,' and also, 'go away scary woman.' Mine, big surprise are the mermaid colors - with a teal stem down the middle to look like butterfly wings. We got to try them out in the studio at class last week and felt very rich, indeed, with our own set of wings.

There's been some spinning going on in addition to the time spent ~~cussing at the sewing machine~~ sewing. Ur, uhm, actually, there's been a whole heck of alotta spinning going on - one last 'in the snow' shot of yarn for the season - me hopes...another snow storm at this point would just be cruel. A little close up of this purple beauty is definitely in order. These batts were made by ironjohn and sent to me as a gift. I am, as ever, in awe of how I've come to know so many totally cool people through ravelry, through yarn, through the collective experience of NEEDING wool fumes on a regular basis. John made these batts for me and they are a bunch of purple corriedale with sari and angelina sprinkles love - I had to spin them right away - here's 210 yards of yummy singles in the colorway he named, "Farm-Witch". Awwww.....isn't he sweet?

I scored some 'Estuary' bfl roving from Boogie over at Spunky Eclectic a while back. I'm working up some of it in a 2 ply for a yoke accent on a sweater but will work up 2 braids in these singles as an accent in a vest for Thing 2's birthday next Dec. Yes, I think I'm that far out in the stages of planning my fiber journeys. Can't.Stop.Thinking.of.New.Projects. Here's a family photo of a braid (have 2 more) the 2 ply for me in the back, and the squishy soft singles sitting proudly at the front.

I've had these hoggett black cotswold singles sitting around waiting to be plied and I've run out of bobbins (see reference to project rampant startitis above) and I NEEDED to spin up a bit of some BFL I dyed in 'Carmelita' (that will be in the next shop update) so I plied the two together. For a little added fun and texture, I spun the bfl in the 'S' direction and the hoggett in the 'Z' direction. Plying them back on each other makes the bfl really bloom and it's colors peek out from under the dark hoggett creating a mysterious mood. I think I know what I'll be doing with the rest of the hoggett and 'Carmelita' BFL! Yum!

There's other spinning to talk about but I just have to come right out with my really serious lust for this skein. It's 50/50 angora merino top and it is, uhm, not something you want to pet in public for the first time, just sayin'. I really tried NOT to love this stuff. Firstly, it is really, really expensive. Thing 1 touched it and said, 'oh, mom, you're going to fall in love with this stuff,' but I assured her that would not be likely. It's expensive, it's fussy to dye with - have to be very concise with your temps and it doesn't take the colors as well as some rovings so you have to be pretty concise with your color as well. Because I mix most of my own colors - that just amps up the pressure to 'oh my god, please don't let me mess this stuff up' proportions. But, then, after it was dyed, dried, and in my hands, I tried to spin in thicker than it wanted (it really wanted to be lace) just to prove I was totally above getting hooked on it. Wrong. I love it. I mean, I rub in on my neck and chest and make gestures that make the huscreature frown and say, 'man, I wish I was 50/50 angora/merino'. That's how much I've fallen for it. I need more. Lots more!

Then, I thought I was all out of handspun love and I got this cheery little skein of silk/merino handspun from Loribird. She's having a destash sale on ravelry so check her out and somebody please buy that twisted sister's sweater book before I give in and go back for that, too. But, keep your paws off this skein - it's mine and I lurve it to pieces.

In other news, the kids continue to be like a daily lesson in how to pull your hair out, scream like a banshee, drool on yourself because you're so exhausted but still have to be the parent in charge, and laugh so hard you have to RUN to the bathroom hoping you don't sneeze or anything. The latter would be my morning. Thing 3 has been cultivating a pretty strong interest in bonsai growing since the fair last year where he bought his first tree and met a local bonsai master. He's so into it that he's taking a class (where he'll be the only child in the classes) through said master this spring. He is most proud and excited to be let into an adult class. Part of bonsai is the atmosphere so he's been spending his allowance on the basics, bonsai scissors, etc. and on 'atmosphere'. He's looked at every pebble or bag of stones you can imagine - picking out just the right ones for each of his trees. And, he's purchased some accent decorations like statues,etc. to go on his shelf around his bonsai trees. This billionty headed dragon statue is for the centerpiece - between his best two trees. Only, he was doubling it as a scary monster when he was playing with his figures on his bed this morning and, uh, forgot - stood up to get more figures off his shelf, and sat down on this beastie. Ouch. I mean, look at it - ouch! It is possible I am the worst mother alive because when he exited his room crying, 'Owww oww owww' and holding his backside, I was slightly horrified and really worried. When he told me what had happened and I went into his room to discover an army of figures spread all over the place with one very frightened and startled looking billionty headed dragon on his bead, I fell over laughing and could not stop. I mean, I did check and make sure he was okay first but laugh I did and I'm just sure it's cost me the mother of the year award. Dangitall!

Happy Spring!

2009-03-20T19:09:00.002-04:00

Happy Spring is a bit of an oxymoron on the funny farm. The onset of spring is usually not what I would term 'happy' and this seasonal shift is not really too much of a departure from the 'norm' of mud season. A messy, mucky, and time eating time of year, mud season sort of makes you have to work the facial muscles a little harder to smile. Well, that's if you don't have a fiber addict in your house. Enter, this bit of roving - LOL. On the top is a sparkly batt of 'goblin market' batts. Below that is a bit of 'shiny happy people' roving that I separated into greens/yellows and orange/yellows. As you can see, I had a plan in sight.

I had a plan in sight because my previously carefully laid plan was rocked beyond imagining. Initially, I had planned to make dear Thing 1 a pair of handspun socks from the Roses in the Snow yarn, on account of the fact that she squealed loudly when I put it before her and said she 'loved it'. Only, late one afternoon when discussing psychology courses and other tidbits about school, we did a random experiment that was my doom. Turns out, she didn't really 'love' roses in the snow. She'd have preferred goblin market only it was roving and not batts and, therefore, tragically lacking in sparkle. I tried to restrain myself and managed to deep breathe and not scream, "What? Do you know that I spun that 3 ply yarn just for you?" and, instead, appreciate the budding fiber woman that she is becoming - developing her own tastes and all. My evil mind began plotting right away when she grabbed my coveted Spider Weaver Woman yarn and declared that she really, really loved that one. I mean, don't get me wrong - she's my only daughter and I lurve her like bees love honey but, my Spider Weaver Woman yarn? Oh, the pain! So, I quickly created 'goblin market' batts and started my new, more evil plan. It involved making a striping yarn by spinning the green/yellow part of 'shiny happy people' and then the orange/yellow part of 'shiny happy people' and plying them with a thinner strand of goblin market. There was a bit of goblin market left over so I navajo plied it for the cuff. I was later irked with myself because I know that the GB batts would look much better 2 or 3 plied instead of the stripey look of them n-plied but, what's done is done and it does sparkle - I checked:)

Because it was a last minute change and because I am , ahem, lazy, I went for a sport wgt yarn and remembered how much I love knitting socks at 6 sts per inch! Woot - goes so fast! The result? Well, you tell me - is this a shiny happy sock or what? I know she'll be thrilled because she caught me working on them and later I spied her picking up the finished sock and petting it. Whew! Now I don't have to part with my Spider Weaver Woman....yet!

Happy Spring, everyone!

Give Me Back My Hour.....

2009-03-08T14:23:00.003-04:00

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.

So, 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.

Or, 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. 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.

Or, 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. 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. On 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...

Ducks in Puddles......

2009-03-04T18:02:00.002-05:00

Does it ever strike you as odd that the images chosen to represent spring are always so - cheery? I mean, who doesn't think a pack of ducklings playing in a puddle is totally cute, cute, cute. Still, the day before, when the rain was pouring down to make those puddles happen, they were shivering in the corner neath their mother trying to keep warm and dry. March has certainly come in like a lion and brought with it some storms that started brewing in late February so please forgive me that I've been gone a while.

There have been lots of things happening - some bright and cheery like rainbows, ducklings splashing in puddles, and tulips poking through the ground without the 4 feet of snow that currently smother their bed (shhh, let's just pretend). There's been some no so bright and cheery things as well but nothing that won't right itself in due time. Truly, it is not fair to see or expect to see only pretty pictures and ignore the whole cycle. So, you dig in and take it for what is is, and sit resolutely through the storms, the gray days, the sometimes exhilarating and sometimes exhausting shifts that occur when she's waking from the winter cold. Even the trees seem tired and confused so they crack and pop and shake their limbs in exasperation as if to say, 'enough already, I want some sap in my veins, some leaves, some shady respite!'

Naturally, I've been straight out and spending most of my free time knitting or spinning. So, for about a week now I've been sitting on these finished 'vardo' socks and just haven't landed long enough to show them to you. You like? The cuff is beaded with blue czech glass seed beads and spun from a 'vardo' batt. The body is from my 'silk road' colorway (superwash roving) and they are squishy and soft and fit like a glove...but, for the feet....which is to say they fit like a sock - LOL.

Reading Cat Bordhi's works really got me to thinking about a sock that would fit my 'ample' calves, skinny ankles, narrow, high instep, and smallish feet. I've seen a heel like this on Ravelry and there's one that looks like it in Cat's book as well but, they are both toe up and I was knitting cuff down. A person of average intelligence could probably have looked over the toe up pattern, amended it for cuff down heels, and moved on. When you find that person, tell them I have another heel idea I could use help with - snorks. Being of less than average intelligence and lacking entirely the ability to spatially conceptualize ANYTHING, I just had to jump in and see what I could do. I love this heel. Basically, after turning the heel, I added the gusset stitches onto the heel needles, placing a marker where the heel flap stitches ended on either side. Then, instead of decreasing at the gusset end, I decreased at the heel flap end until all of the heel flap stitches were gone. It draws in so nicely to hug said high arch and the socks stay up so well! Color me happy, and tooting around in handspun socks fresh off the needles. We'll put this under the exhilarating column.

In other news, we got more snow. Yeah, like, more snow. I have started to beat my 'dammit doll' soundly every time I hear the weather man say, "second straight year of record snowfall for Maine," with that sadistic glee in his voice - it isn't a sophisticated coping method but it is keeping me out of jail. We're expecting even more snow soon and I didn't get to go to SPA last weekend because I had to stay home and be a grown up. As the other grown up was suffering from a cold and acting like he'd just home-birthed triplets or something, being grown up turned out to be a full time job, on account of my strong desire to lose my dammit doll, pummel him instead, and claim ignorance and confusion at my bail hearing. The animals are sick of winter and the cats are starting to act like fools. Thing 1's parakeets start the day out screeching like some one's pour hot molasses on them and even the goldfish are getting crotchety. We'll swipe all of this off the table and put it in the 'exhausting' category. But do it quick because I have some gloating to do.....swipes the table and revels in the sound of all that stuff crashing to the floor.

And....there haz been prezintses......which reminds me, I didn't let you all know that Ruth won the last great giveaway and I'm putting her package together this week. But, I was stunned, surprised, and humbled to sloppy tears when I received a package from my good friend, Lorraine this week. This woman must be a guardian angel - she always knows when to swoop in and make you feel like a million bucks, which she did. There were some knit mitts (feel like angora) that I keep putting on and looking at my hands and squealing. Some STR yummy sock yarn (that Lorraine, she knows I dig socks something fierce) and some chocolate and soap and body butter and awesome earrings and note cards and your basic box of squealing kid acting like it's Christmas morning. Lorraine, I love you. Thanks, kiddo. You just took that frown and turned it right side up in a jiffy.

Turns out, I can keep the smile a while. I just found out I'll be vending at Sock Summit. I know (stops to pick up jaw and wipe the drool from her gaping mouth), Sock Summit. Woot Woot! The teacher list is awesome and then there's the travel and then there's sock summit and yarn all around and - swoons - I don't know if I can stand it. Definitely, the exhilarating column, don't ya think?

Okay, so, now what? giggles and goes off to skein up handspun to show you in a day or two.

If At First You Don't Succeed....

2009-02-15T13:46:00.003-05:00

The secret to life as we know it finishes that title as farming, homesteading, gardening, self-sufficiency, art, fartism - they all require one mantra to keep you sane when you feel like sanity is just NOT.AN.OPTION. anymore- try and try again. Last week, the huscreature and I were discussing those projects that didn't get done last summer, those that need to get done this summer, and how better to manage our time and resources to try to achieve those projects on a budget that is significantly tighter than last year's which is pretty much a theme of every one's life, these days. Still, I was feeling kind of down about the house - a never ending project is building your own home while you live in it. Add to that that we are paying for the house as we go and using lots of recycled materials and you have a constant barrage of many things and none quite yet finished. I've been waiting to paint the living room for a year - need to remove the stairs to the loft first then finish the trim around the window which we were waiting to do until we decided if said beautiful but slightly damaged triple paned picture window would be too much a detriment to energy efficiency and have to be replaced or taken out entirely. Then there's the whole process of finishing the wall baseboards and we've delayed that because we're hoping to add another layer of insulation and flooring....yes, I could go on walking you through this maze but I think you get my point - NEVERENDING. It's easy to be hard on yourself, though, and I was definitely there - until the huscreature came up from the barn with a wee one in his hands. Our 'Cloud' has had her first lamb - another ewe. The chickens broke into the barn at feeding time when I went down to take a pic of Cloud's baby and we discovered that Mab had also had this little ewe. I quickly snapped a pic because I want to tell them, one day, when they are trying to jump the fence and gobble my garden - or when they are having lambs of their own - that I knew them when they were just as tall as a chicken. They chased the chickens around and had great fun while their moms were gobbling hay and munching on grain.

Cloud's baby is a little shy - you can see her hiding behind the pallet. A pallet is an indispensable aid to any sheep farmer. We have often celebrated the find of new pallets. They make great lambing pens. The way we construct our lambing pens is very temporary. The new mom and baby only need a day or two together before they are all set and ready to be back with the herd. Sometimes, a new baby can be found touching noses with a baby on the other side - that means they're already friends. On the day we take the pallets down and let mom and baby back in with their herd - the babies take off to play with the lambs while the moms all huddle together and talk over barn politics and neighborhood news over a bale of hay. We always keep a few pallets around inside the barn and outside it because, when leaned securely against the wall, they make a great playground and napping spot for lambs. Lambs love to cuddle up with their moms but, often, during the day we will find them cuddled up with each other behind the pallets. They really enjoy chasing each other so a pallet to duck and hide from the lamb hot on your trail is a favorite trick, too. The little ewe in the front of the top pic is a jewel - and an exciting experiment to boot. But, first, let me say that the camera takes a while to function in the cold. The first few shots are often spooky or just plain funny. Like this psychedelic shot of the lambs. "Whoaaa, what are they putting in our milk, Brigit?" This one made the kids giggle for a ridiculously long time.

The second pic while the old camera was slowly starting to draw battery power and realizing that, yes, even in the cold we expected it to perform, was of the 'proud mamas' (the rams are off in their own pens because I like to be able to get in with my Mamas and babies alot and don't want to have to worry about rams. Rufus, our head ram, is very good with the lambs - it's more of an issue that he and I have. As he gets older, his previously sweet sort of fanatical following of me has turned into something that feels much more creepy. I'm just not bending over to pick up a lamb with 350 pounds of ram lurking about any time soon, that's all I'm saying about it. The proud mama pic turned out to be the coffee through my nose pic because, as you can see, the flash and red-eye reduction are kind of last to come on board as the camera warms up. We called this pic the 'ghost sheep' pic, though I thought they look much more like aliens than ghosts. Still, terribly funny - unless you're one of the proud mamas and you did your hair and curls special just to look pretty for the camera - I guess that it might not be so funny in that circumstance. Still, our winter hearts are shrunken and small enough to have laughed about it too much.

Hard to believe that those pics of the barn were really once my house. When we first moved here, Rob Roy book in hand, with two wheelbarrows, some bags of concrete, a chainsaw and a few trowels, we spent the summer camping with the kiddos and building this cordwood building with dead fallen trees on the property. It is an experience that I don't want to relive but not because it was a bad one - I just don't know if I could survive it, again. Still, there was something invigorating and insanely satisfying about getting up with the sun, sharing a cuppa with the huscreature, and then going about the competition we had going on to inspire our progress on the house. Toward the heat of August, as the walls began to form, we had contests like, whoever does 4 wheelbarrows before lunch gets double dips on the ice cream and such. It didn't really matter what the prize was - just having something to work that hard for made it less cumbersome to tackle. Of course, with only three months to build it and using, again, as much in the way of recycled materials as we could, and added to the 'cons' of cordwood building like the challenges of insulating properly and the difficulty in lighting such a dark structure, etc. - we eventually came to see that this structure would make a better barn than a home. And, years later, we're pretty darn happy with the barn it makes. You know, try and try again. These two little Cotswold lambs are playing another favorite game on the concrete base (now covered with years of farm dirts and straw) that we, together, only two people, mixed and hand-poured to support the center beam of the structure - the chimney flue that huscreature built. It worked beautifully then and is a great jungle gym for 'king of the mountain' and 'hide and seek' for the lambs, now. On thing I mention, often, when boasting about Cotswolds, is their facial expressions. You can tell which lamb belongs to which ewe by simply looking at their face. 10's lamb, on the top of the mountain, has a dirty face. 10 always has a dirty face. I chalk it up to her tenacious curiosity. If the herd needs something critically investigated - they call 10. Our oldest and wisest ewe. 2's lamb, Brigit, is on the bottom of the mountain - flashy bright eyes and a facial expression that says, "I'm beautiful, smart, and faster than you'll ever be so just choose the obvious route - adore me."

Don't you just love the expressive faces of Cotswolds? Here's Brigit, again, ready for you to adore her....and you will. No one has resisted the temptation so far so there's really no hope for you, either. She's like her mom - likes her pet behind the ears and, while you're there, you might at well scratch her forehead for her...and you will. I mean, I love the Merinos and Corriedale X's, too - and I'm slowly coming to some sort of relationship with the few remaining Shetlands that we have, though I won't be getting any more - LOL. But my heart remains firmly devoted to the Cotswolds. So, last week when I found myself having to wait for a few minutes in a book store, I perused the farming books and garden books because, well, the knitting books were too much a temptation and I'd already splurged on a cup of coffee so I was hoping to be good. I found a few books on sheep and one, in particular, that seemed to showcase the beauty of heritage breeds. So, you can imagine the heated boil I nearly came to when a terse and all too common description for Cotswold simply stated that the wool was not so great and the animal better used for cross breeding than anything else. Huh! I got so mad I put it back on the shelf backwards - a childish rebellion that I couldn't live with further than three paces away when I turned around, righted it on the shelf, and pointed at it and said, 'Shame on you'. The gentleman who was sitting over in the 'psychiatry' section happened to be walking out with his three books on the workings of the female mind at the time (yes, I'm a voyeur so I looked at his titles while he was reading them) and my talking to the book with such an admonishing tone seemed to verify whatever research he was conducting and he winked at me, nodded his head in that polite way that says, "It's okay that you're a crazy woman because, hey, look at my book selection, I love crazy women," and walked on. Urgh!

It happens more than I'd like to even think about. Wool book after wool book with just plain dog the longwool breeds. I mean, I'm not here to say they are anywhere as soft as merino, and they certainly aren't perfect for every kind of yarn - but they are all beautiful and wonderful to work with and I just don't think they get a fair presentation in most discussions on wool production. Which is soooo odd as, a peek at Cotswold history will clearly describe that they were considered, in their time, a 'golden fleece'. There's also quality production to be considered. If you've ever tried to process a really badly grown merino fleece, you know what I'm talking about. Any wool grown to be worthless, can certainly end up that way. The shepherd who selects Cotswolds doesn't do so for efficiency. They grow slowly - reaching full maturity after two years. They are large and good eaters but they are also a greater expenditure for the shepherd. For instance, we shear twice a year. The shorter staple and 6 month old fleece is infinitely softer and more beautiful than the 12 month fleece. That isn't a problem for us because we do our own shearing. But, if we were having to pay a shearer - it would double the cost of shearing each year...which, added to the extra hay to feed such a large animal, and the MANY FREAKING BOOKS THAT SAY SILLY THINGS ABOUT LONGWOOL and it almost seems like public perception and politics are more to blame for this breed coming so close to extinction than the actual quality of the wool and beauty of the breed.

Having said that, I'm not a staunch purebred person, either. I appreciate the breed and have adopted, as part of my own personal mission with being a shepherd, continuing to breed a portion of my flock for purebred Cotswolds. My rams and ewes are papered, though I've not papered the babes and don't know if I will. But, the try and try again beast rears it's ugly head when I think of sticking my feet in the sinking mud of being a purist at anything. It just doesn't appeal to me. And, cross-breeding has resulted in the production of some pretty fabulous wool breeds. Pat Coleby, in "Natural Sheep Care" goes into some pretty fascinating discussion of breeding and cross-breeding. Polwarth is produced by crossing Merino ewes over a Lincoln ram and then using a Merino ram to breed the resulting ewes in the following season. Longwool breeds tend to improve, IMHO, the luster, strength, and character of Merino fleece. Corriedale is another breed that resulted from such a cross - Leicesters/Lincolns/Merinos crossed over one another. So, our experimenting began last year and sort of by accident when one of the shetlands bullied her way through the wrong fence and found our young Cotswold ram, "Rammerkins" on the other side of it. We're eagerly awaiting the spring fleeces from the resulting 'Shotwold' lambs and, depending on how that goes, we may experiment with that mix further. The more intentional experiment is the little ewe you see here. Her mom is a Corriedale/Merino cross bred to our Rufus. We're calling her a Corrinowold - snork. Her aunt was the first round of crossing last year and she won't be ready to be bred back to the Merino ram until next season - so we're in the midst of the experiment but, so far, the corrie/merino/cotswold fleece is Gawwwwjeous! Our round of lambs with this cross last year were all a deep chocolate brown but this little ewe, as you can see, is very much like her Cotswold father. I can't get over the facial expression - and how it tends to follow this breed wherever they go. We distracted her mom with feeding so we could pick her up and look her over to make sure she's doing okay, check the cord, etc. You can see how strong and robust she is in the pic at the top of the paragraph, crying out, "Mama, don't fall for the grain bait - they're going to touch me and I'll smell like yucky human after that - puuuulease!". But, mom fell right for the bait and switch and huscreature brought her over to me, both of us laughing at the little bit of Cotswold that resulted in a whole lotta facial expression.

You can see, here, that she is rather unimpressed with myself and the camera. You can also see the handy fix of the rip in the finger of huscreature's favorite leather gloves - blessed be duct tape! LOL. I could tell, immediately, that she is her mother's daughter. Mab is a strong ewe and I absolutely adore her. She's very private, though, and doesn't like to be fussed over. If you want to show her you love her, pick her some fresh grass and feed it to her out of your hand. She's not into the petting - she's a practical chic. Her little lamb is very much the same. The 'big friggin' deal, you have a shiny lighty box' look on her face is priceless. But, even cuter still was the answer I got when I cooed at her and said, "C'mon, give me a pretty face for your baby book." I think it says, 'go stick your head in a toilet' but it could be something more like,' get away from me you freak'. What do you think?

Roses in the Snow

2009-02-11T21:37:00.009-05:00

I once thought I hated pink. Actually, I thought it for many years. It stemmed from so many things - the Barbie dominant era of my childhood where pink came to mean a tiny waist, boobs bigger than Texas, and feet that were permanently fitted to dazzle all in 4 inch heels. And, as a brunette, pink poses challenges that, taken beyond a pale shade of shell or rose can quickly flood right on into trampish look. But, I suspect it has less to do with childhood icons, color palettes and how they flatter us, and a basic dislike for a color. I mean, I'm not crazy about yellow but, when found liking a shade of yellow, I rarely have moments of inner conflict and slight twinges of violent streaks. Part of the reason I have come to this conclusion is that I find so many other people who react to pink in the strangest ways ranging from utter hatred of anything pink to a tolerance of certain shades of pink to a rabid sort of attraction to all things pink. I have this on my mind, of course, because it's February and the month of love and so I figured it was the safest month of the year to do pink-ish (ducks in case pink haters everywhere are lobbing rotted fruit at her) for the Happy Hooves Batt Club. Meet the 'Roses in the Snow' batts - and a wild card month to boot. Woot!

Wild Cards are great fun, I think, and a concept that can quickly turn your stash into a goldmine. In these sets, a wild card means 3 batts - one of each colorway (shown here left to right: rose, roses in the snow, gold dust woman). The idea behind this was for a three ply yarn - perfect for socks that squish and bounce and live long and happy lives under the pressure of feet and shoes. But, that's only one way you can spin them. I toyed for a while with the idea of to plying each batt or 1/2 of each batt and then mix and matching the 2 ply from the other halves for a gradient lace wgt yarn for a shawl but, after frothing at the mouth with fevered confusion at ALL THE OPTIONS before me, I sat right down and made myself carry through with my original intention, and I'm very please with it. You can greatly extend your stash by spinning some 'plain' roving and plying it with a hand-dyed roving or a happy sparkly batt to get more yardage and plenty of color. Generally, my wild cards are about taking wild variations of color and blending them together in a yarn. You know, your basic eye popping contrasting colors sort of party. This time, though, we're playing with irony a little - making a wild card from lighter tones that, when blended, pretty much undulate and shift so subtly that the color becomes one. Only, that one color is chock full of magic because it shifts and changes ever so slightly throughout it's plying that is makes the eyes stand up tall and dance like they don't need the money. That's mostly due to the 'Roses in the Snow' batt - which has gobs of sari silk and glitz in it that sort of makes it come to life...really.
This little 3 ply - a light fingering yarn - is aglow with sparkle and dazzling color. She's a 400 yard skein at 4.2 ozs./120 grms - 16 wpi. I lurve her. Shhhh, don't tell...

It seems odd that a color that in color/gemstone therapy is used extensively to promote inner and social peace, healing, reverence and love can make people feel so, so, well, it's hard to explain how certain pinks make me feel. I'm definitely in the 'tolerate certain shades of pink' category and that just freaks me right out when I come to the conclusion that probably a big part of the reason that pink can instill such apathy, frustration, and even aggression in people is exactly because of the way it makes us FEEL - as in feel things that we're not entirely comfortable with feeling. And, you know, there's that prevailing notion that peace is weak. No one likes to be weak and I think the fear of that, alone, has fostered pink hatred for too long. So, a little experiment: look at this pink. I mean it, c'mon....really look at it for a minute. Take a few deep breaths, (exhale too!). Doesn't it make you feel a little, uhmmmm, happy? Then, do you look around to make sure no one's watching? Yep, fear of being caught loving soft rosy pinks is powerful.

Women certainly have reason to be troubled with pink (see above reference to Barbie) and to even have an aversion to the stereotypes that go along with something that is perceived as feminine. You know, it raises these very real fears of just how feminine it is good to be. And, what is the definition of feminine? A wisdom that is compassionate and/or a pretty, soft, and breathtaking beauty? It's hard to make the two mix - easier to steer away from something that can associate you with weakness or frailty. If we choose that path, sadly, we can lose sight of the beauty of unconditional love, of healing energy that makes you feel new all over again, of the joy of looking upon, smelling, touching and enjoying something so peaceful as a newly opened rose. I tend to go for overkill in banishing old views that you've outgrown and are ready to put behind you so, I recommend a full on embrace of pink....and go ahead and let yourself sparkle and shine shamelessly if you can. This 140 yds of 5 plied, beaded, petal adorned rosy loveliness sort of says, 'Hey, watch me - I'm not afraid to like pink' in a way that just makes me giggle. A little hint with spinning beads, I like to leave mine sort of dangling as I find that this bit of give is very helpful when knitting - so you can be sure to maneuver your beads to the front of the piece so they can be properly drooled over.

Yes, we have our wounds but, in terms of pink, you have to admit that guys are totally screwed. Remember in the late 80's/early 90's when pale pink polo shirts were being thrust on guys by their girlfriends? Poor guys. If they hate pink, they're accused of being totally out of touch with their own feminine aspects. If they like it, they're often accused of being too in touch with them. They really can't win and they certainly can't afford to be found liking pink which is a tragedy not only because I think it is so long since time that we stopped thinking women had to prove they are tough as nails to gain equality and men have to walk a tightrope of ridiculousness to avoid raised eyebrows and silly judgements but also because I don't know many men who don't look drop dead gorgeous in pinks or reds. Truly. A guy in a pale pink shirt? ... fans herself cuz she's either having a hot flash or a very inappropriate moment on the blog..... All together now, "All we are saying...is give pink a chance"...

And it was when I came to that that the inner rebel just screamed loudly for a while. I will not be programmed to despise something simply because it raises so many flags of vulnerability, of tenderness, of nurturing. To do that would mean that the world would continue to grow less forgiving, less playful, less open to the pains that loving brings. So, being a reformed pink hater and a proud flyer of my freak flag just whenever I can find the excuse, I went all the way with these rose petals and made a little trim that pretty much says, "so what, I like rose pink...shut up!" I'm working on the accepting vulnerability concept....it's a longer path than I'd thought. Perhaps I'll be reminded by these little curtain tie backs I made for my studio. A little daily vow to think crazy enough to believe peace can prevail and grow my roses in the snow.

Still, let the fact that the hooves have been out for only 11 days and, in that 11 days, I've spun some 200 yards of novelty yarns and some 400 yds of sock yarn and already sampled, swatched, and picked a pattern for the sock yarn and committed the novelty yarns to myself and Thing 1 for room decorations IN ANY WAY try to convince you that I like pink. Seriously.

How does your garden grow?

2009-02-03T18:03:00.005-05:00

“To see things in the seed, that is genius.” Lao Tzu

There is so much happening so fast that it can only mean one thing, spring is just around the corner. This could be entirely wishful thinking but, trust me, if it is it is just better to let me simmer in that delusion for a while. Let's see, well, there have been lambs. I know - look how cute they are! This little ewe is sidling up to the side of the lambing pen she and her mom occupy to converse with the other little lamb next door about what the heck just happened to them (they are both less than a day old) and what the next few days have in store for them. The lambs always seem kind of shell shocked right after they're born. I mean, aren't we all? But it seems a more drastic conflict that with, say, human babies, because in less than 8 hours - they can be found running in circles around the barn over and over again, occasionally jumping on the back of a ewe who's just trying to take a little nap.

On the other side of the fence, and a whole 8 hours her senior, is another little ewe. Our dear 10 who always fakes us out acting like she's going to lamb first every year and then ending up either being last or a few births into the season but this year she really had us hopping when she did go first. 10 is one of the ewes that has been with us for years. She has, hands down, the most wonderful fleece of any of our sheep. It is high luster, very soft, and has a really mohair, silky quality to it. Every year, she's had a ram. This year, twin ewes. One lamb was large and healthy and jumping around moments after being born but the other was very weak. We did what we could for her but she didn't make it through the evening. She left us with her head cupped in my hands and a pat and scratch behind her little ear. Nature works it's own cycles - we have no choice but to try to embrace that reality.

Other beginnings have been, well, beginning. I've got my hands on my garden already which just thrills me to no end. Usually, I get the catalog from my beloved Fedco seeds just after Christmas. As luck would have it, I generally have sore hands from finishing up all that holiday knitting so sitting down with a seed catalog and cup of coffee sounds just great about then. I'll go through every tasty morsel of description (Fedco does the best bedroom seed talking I've ever read - it's like garden porn for the insanely garden obsessed), make my list carefully, add up the cost of the seeds, cry when I look at my budget in comparison to the seed cost on my list, review and scrimp and make what is essential fit - and, this is the part where I should send it in , no? Well, I don't. Not until this year, anyway. What generally happens, instead, is I get really busy around that time, put the catalog and carefully made out order on a bookshelf somewhere, and forget to mail it until March. The first year I did this I wanted to slap myself. By the second year, I was thinking I might have been given a 'forget I didn't take the trash out and everything else' pill by SOMEONE who might not want to hear everything I have to say (cough- huscreature). Without being able to sanely blame it on anyone but myself, I resolved to do better the following year and, you guessed it, did it AGAIN. This is a problem because Fedco is a coop. You get what's there and it's best to just forget how much you like everyone else that buys there seed and rudely push yourself to the front of the line. I've never had the spine to do that so I often end up not getting a few things - that special paprika pepper that I've been pining for for years, some tomato that is so hot I think people might have to electric wire their gardens just to ensure jealous gardeners don't come steal their plants away under the cover of night.

So, this year, I got my seed order in by the end of January (cheers and claps for herself because, you know, sometimes you've just got to do that or no one will LOL) and I'm soooo looking forward to the garden. Not as much as I'm looking forward to finishing these socks. I know, they don't look very far along in this pic but bear in mind that this is a 2nd sock - I'm working both socks, a few inches at a time, on two sets of dpn's. Besides, this was the picture from yesterday. It grew quite a bit last night and I am just smitten - purely puppy loving addicted to this yarn. I had planned to make the socks with this 'Vardo' yarn from my batts on the cuff and then knit the rest of the sock with the silk road roving I'd spun. Now, though, I'm thinking stripes of vardo raining down and a touch of knee high bliss. We shall see.

I kind of surprise myself with how much I think in color. You can kind of tell from the variety of vegetables that I strive for that the dyer's mind and eye is always sort of working. This year, in addition to scaring myself by actually being organized and executing the purchase of seeds before the last minute - I felt a bold sense of adventure that I don't generally answer to. I mean, I love to try something new in the garden. Or a few things. The truth is, though, I'm a traditionalist. I prefer open pollinated varieties, old vintage varieties, tried and true garden champs. But, there is always color. The green bean that's purple, purple asparagus, yellow and purple carrots, black tomatoes, black squash, grey pumpkins, rainbow corn. I can't help it - I'm a sucker for color. On the list of 'gotta try that this year' were some multicolor pole beans. I mean, color me a geek if you will but I was positively entranced by the idea of picking four different colored bean pods, lightly sauteing them in some olive oil and garlic, and crumbling some Parmesan cheese on top of. The yellow carrots are something I've tried before and haven't grown in a year or two but have missed their cheery sweetness so much that I had to have them back. And a dark, smokey black and green tomato gives your salad just that perfect 'goth' touch, especially when offset by some deep purple endive and a red tipped lettuce. See what I mean? Color is my addiction. So, now that you've seen the inside of the sock, here's a peek at what the cuff will look like when it's folded over to the 'beaded' edge. stands back a moment to savor it herself. Look, beads, shiny glass beads. I told you, puppy cute hearts and flowers smitten love! Of course, the color's not too shabby, either! LOL.

So, ignore the groundhogs, put some soap in your holes, and bring on the sun. To register for this month's chance at winning the Great Giveaway, tell me what you'd grow in the comments. I'll draw a name on the 15th......

Hoeing Your Own Row....

2009-01-30T15:24:00.005-05:00

It's often been 'suggested' by people near and dear to me that, though I can be entirely practical and almost always empathetic and reliable (yeah, right), I often give the impression that I'm sort of living on my own cloud. I would generally dispute all of this and point to the more community oriented aspects of my personality but the truth is, I am a serious Hermit. Worse than just a physical Hermit, I'm a mental Hermit, too. It's the way I hoe the rows of life, ya know? Just a short 'mental vacation' here and there can do wonders.

While I do see the advantages of a firm grip on reality in life, I just don't see the necessity to choke it to death and engrave it's every etched nuance into my eternal ether. Consequently, it means I mess up.....alot.... Kind of like when, the other day, I posted a blog on the blog's birthday but still mentioned NOT ONCE that it was the blog's birthday. Sorry, blog. And, happy birthday.

For the blog's birthday I am giving it 3 things:
1. More time and attention over the next year
2. More farm/wool critter content - this hard winter's got my garden fingers itching so there will be more of that as soon as someone comes and magically takes away all the feet upon feet of snow in my garden plots.
3. More handspun - because that generally appeases anyone no matter how badly I screw up for them - LOL.

I've already begun with the skein above - 'Goblin Market' which was in the shop last week as this pretty little roving. That's what I absolutely love about spinning hand-dyed roving. No other way could you combine such an array of contrasting color and still have such a calm tone to the yarn. It is like color magic. The magic of spinning hand-dyed roving is that the colors are cooled and soothed quite a bit in the spinning. As a single, this yarn would have been a much more bright and shifty but happily drenched with color yarn. It would have been fun to do for a hat or something but I wanted sport wgt sock yarn so I went for a 2 ply(340ish yds) - also, I wanted easy peasy spinning and that pretty much either means sock yarn or singles to me these days. I keep meaning to spin something thicker for a quicker sweater but I tend to love a sweater that sort of hugs and smooths across the skin so, as it turns out, I not only like to spin this weight more but I like wearing the knits from it more. My hands just wish, from time to time, that I could knit fast and wild and worsted. Such.internal.conflict. Those of us who like to venture onto their own personal cloud from time to time tend to like the 'surprise' and 'adventure' of turning out a yarn that is an amazing mutation of the colors found the the roving. Give me a row, give me a hoe....and let me get to it.

In between those and my next spinning adventure, I whipped up a few 'light' batts (meaning I didn't have enough to make a full one left when I'd made batts so I generally opt to use up the remainder in a little batt for myself) of 'Big Sky' and 'Turkish Delight'. No thrills, no frills, here. Just blissfully smooth, singles spinning that enables me to visit my cloud for a special long stint because singles spinning is less about the head doing the work and more about the pedal, the wheel, and the hands working like a fine instrument with just a calm soul to guide them along. This is where you pop the recliner out on your own cloud and rest in the nether space a while.

Gripping reality should be brief and concise. This practice should in no way impede one's desire, fire, and fury of ideas to start vast amounts of projects and dream big dreams. It's all good, really, as long as you know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em (ewwwww - just made myself's spine tingle on that one!). This vest is obviously not going to be done by my proposed deadline (which is tomorrow) but that is quite alright with me. I'm finding I like working the modular sweater/vest but like it more as a side project, just picking it up from time to time and catching up with it. It will take a while, but it's all good. I've folded doing the Goddess Knits Mystery Shawl Knit-Along because I have remembered my Spider Web Shawl WIP from Victorian Lace Today and I feel compelled to get back to it with some conviction because I want to wear it this spring. With that, my socks in progess (let alone the many pairs worth that sit balled up with their sketch/pattern on top of them waiting patiently for their day in the sun), a few patterns I'm working on, and the ever groaning WIP basket, I'll just have to do it late. The other good thing about having a mental cloud is that when you feel pulled in 4000 directions, a brief stint there can really help you sort things out.

The best place, for me (as if it's not already obvious) to take my little vacations is in front of the wheel. It's good to have a place. Only, I may have tapped too deeply into that place this time and it's gotten me in a real pickle. I.must.resist.knitting.this.yarn.right.away! I'm still in love with the Vardo handspun I've been waiting to knit and am narrowing in on a chance to do with a spin along but, this yarn was another result of my 'vacations' this week and, as you can probably tell or deduce by the yardage versus wgt (500 yds, fingering wgt, 3 ozs), I was really in spinning bliss. It was just one of those times, you know? When the wheel, the feet, the hands, the head, the mind and the Spider Weaver Woman Batts were working together and practically humming in unison. It came out so lofty and springy that I had to clutch it to my chest and sing it a song. She wants to be socks. Ask me how I know. We've talked quite alot, actually, and the urge to ball her up and ditch everything else is definitely difficult to resist. That's how fiber fetishes are, though, always tempting and luring you until you feel like you could just about do anything.....she's trying not to listen to the Spider Weaver Woman yarn and get back to work and maybe cursing the temptation that is a fiber mental vacation..........

Fighting Fire with Fire

2009-01-25T21:49:00.003-05:00

Okay, let's see - uhmmmm, when we last left off it was ridiculously cold (as in the double digits with a minus sign in front of them and mayhem in the supermarkets cold). There were a few blissful days of 'normal' Maine cold and then we went right back on to ridiculous again. This dangerous cold is making us all a little like caged animals but it is most disturbing to Thing 3. This, folks, is a picture of a bored little creature who was un-phased by his mother's attempts to make him overwork his brain or involve him in long afternoon activities to distract him from utter boredom. There's only one thing to do - fight fire with fire. On with the ridiculous parade!

Now, before you go thinking it's been all insanity around Chez Fartist Asylum, it surely hasn't been. I've managed to turn those singles into these mittens which tickles me to no end. I got to test their warmth this weekend and felt absolutely vindicated in my fibery dorkness when the steering wheel - cold as an ice sculpture - didn't even begin to penetrate the double thickness of this stranded mitten. And the knit couldn't be simpler. A cuff of 1x1 rib switching colors The body of the mitten was just a background color and a main color. Each worked in a k2 BC, k2 MC pattern and changing background colors every 6 rows. Fun, relatively easy, good ole knitting, it was.

You may notice a bit of turquoise that wasn't in the post linked above for the singles. That little bit of gorgeousness is a divine BFL roving dyed by Ms. Boogie of Spunky Eclectic in her 'tie dye' colorway. It was a splendid spin and knit so I used the remainder to knit up a little headband. Of course, right now you're probably noticing that freaky thing on the left. Ridiculous cold calls for ridiculous behavior. So, after lunch, Thing 3 entertained us all by taking a twisty ties and making himself some freakish fangs and putting on a very convincing monster act that left him rolling under the table (note to self: the fuzz on the child's hat afterward is definitely a sign you should think about sweeping under the table with a little more, ahem, fortitude!) After we all returned to our chairs and stopped laughing so hard our ribs hurt, I got back to knitting the gorgeous headband of BFL love. It's so soft, so yummy, so lustrous and beautiful and - MINE!

One more attack from a scary Cluney the Scurge (we're Redwall geeks, doncha know) who came growling around the corner and stood lurking about until I busied him peeling and munching on and, subsequently wearing a big ole orange - juice running down his chin really enhanced the monster/troll effect! After that it was his drawing kit and some more growling around the corners of his siblings doors. We all did our best to look intimidated and afraid and he got to giggle for a good hour or more and that left him in this state - a happy child. Formerly a growling child with fangs, now a sweet little cuddle bear.....all in a day's work!

Just when you'd thought you'd seen it all.....

2009-01-19T19:34:00.003-05:00

Warning: This post is about knitting. It's about knitting but also has some adult, I guess, ideas. Although, I contend the adult part is a very flexible concept. LOL.

Being sick sucks, as I'm sure ya'll know. So, in addition to the fuurrrrreeezing last few days (28 below one night followed by 20 below the next darn near froze the hearts right out of us), our lives were appropriately spiced with drudgery and woe by said cold weather coming precisely when the whole house had come down with another horrid cold/flu/thingummie. It sort of seemed like the reverse of a dream come true - which is to say, it was sort of nightmarish. No problem, I've got coping skills. So, what's a sick and weakened girl to do? Peruse ravelry, perhaps? All I have to say to you if you're considering that course for yourself is this - Humping Elephants. Yes, I mean it. You shouldn't mix cough and cold flu formulas with humping elephants and then go lay down for a nap. Just.trust.me. The dreams you might experience with that combo are beyond what you can actually describe to other people.

There are other things you can do whilst sick and feeble and freezing to liven your flailing spirits - you guessed it - spinning! The green lovely up on the corner, there, is the result of January 09's Happy Hooves Batt Club. "Good Fortune" seemed appropriate to wish for in this New Year - I hope it comes to all of you because I am clearly already fortunate to have this oober green and luscious yarn. A navajo ply skein of 3 ozs. with 330 yds. - not too shabby. Wanna see the batts? Of course you did.....To spin these with uniform but still spontaneous color shifts, I tore the batt into much thinner strips than I normally would (about 10) and dizzed them fine, spun superfine and navajo plied - 14 wpi fingering wgt.

Sometime around the day of the 'you must have an ax in your brain your head hurts so bad' portion of this sickness, I decided to get serious and tap into some deep spinning healing so I went lace weight on the wheel and spun this 18 wpi, 390 yd, 3.8 ozs roving into this pretty, soft, delicate skein I'm calling 'Tiny Dancer'. She's going in the shop on Wednesday, along with the sock yarn I'm plying from this 'Cat Woman' roving. Well, I confess, not all of it. I'm spinning one skein for the shop and one for the Farm-Witch. I can't help it - yarn is my drug of choice, ya know? But, if pretty yarn and splooshy roving aren't yours, perhaps you'd like a pair of these fornicating deer mittens? Oh come on, I'm dying to find someone who wants them so I can have an excuse to knit them. There are precious few people I can think of that would appreciate a pair of fornicating deer mittens....maybe I need to get out more?

Just for the record, I'm not really so prudish. I can appreciate the occasion for pasties, thongs (though a muppet fur thong also gave me nightmares), knitted private parts and other naughty knits. Perhaps, in a treehugger's sense, which I count myself one, I can even celebrate the reality that deer, well, fornicate. But, the penguins getting it on? I just can't go there!

Yeah, but, does she bobble?

2009-01-11T19:15:00.003-05:00

I've come to the stage of freezing fingers in January in Maine that I'm back to contemplating the best options for finger warming. Thus, I've come to understand that my previous ignorance to the difference between 'knuck' and 'fingerless mitt'. I mean, practically speaking, I understand the difference. But, when choosing which to make, I've been quite nonchalant in the past sort of reasoning, "meh, why go to the trouble to knit fingers only half-way and quit?". Heh.

It turns out that the 'knuck' part of the knucks is really essential for me. Often, I need my fingers free and, sometimes (especially as we near lambing season) I have to touch things that I don't necessarily want to seep into the fingers of the gloves. For me, the perfect marriage is knucks in a fingering wgt yarn with some handspun, woolly mittens over them. That way, if I need my fingers free, I can take the mittens off, then put them back on to warm my cold fingers after the fact. The actual 'fingerless' mitts are my preferred hand ornament to sleep in. Yep, you heard me right. When you heat with wood and live in the wilds of Maine - it's a darn good idea to wear something on your head and hands when you sleep. It took almost a whole winter of tendinitis on my hand to figure out that it came from me trying to tuck my chilly hands under the pillow in some wonky way. For this, I like a ribbed fingerless mitt that is a bit long on the fingers.

So, I've got the knuck part done and now it's time to turn to the mittens, non? Only, I am continually struck with rash and violent mood swings that leave me drunk with the dream that I can knit all of my life and spin in my sleep. So, of course, I decided to knit these for the January Sockdown in the Sock Knitter's Anonymous on Ravelry. How could I pass it up, I ask you. I mean, there's this skein of 'Mardi Gras' that I saved for myself to knit and it just keeps calling to me. It sidled up to the red beads and they, together, warped my mind into NEEDING the beaded socks. Then, there's my modular vest which I'm gaining steam on every day. Of course, I'm starting to seriously spin the yarn for my own cable sweater design that I'm knitting for the Spinner Central Quarterly sweater spin along. And. in a spasmodic fit of web surfing in the wee hours of the night, I chanced upon this knit along and, of course, in my exhausted state of heroic delusion (loading the fires on a blustery cold night is so falsley invigorating that it really pumps the ego badly)decided, ah, what the heck? Clearly, I am afflicted with an incurable case of knitting fever.....

I created this little pattern (posted in its own listing so it can be printed without all my musings and blabbery) largely due to the fact that I lack the ability and/or attention span to follow one. The same thing happens to me in the kitchen but the happy result is that you end up with something that really suits your tastes - or something so hideous that you feed it to the pig and hate yourself for being such a flighty soul. In this case, I was very pleased. Loved the fit, loved the colors (that's my 'Hot Mama' colorway of purples, pale rose, and dark brown)and loved the little rib invention that I know has probably been done a billionty times but is new to me because I sort of made it as I went along.

What was fairly surprising to me, though, was finding out I bobble. Generally speaking, I'm not a bobble loving sort of chic. I love designs, textures, and even the random cable or colorwork but - ahem - bobbles? So, in the spirit I was caught up in at the moment (which is to say, adolescent sort of rebellion) I decided to try plugging in a bobble on the cuff. Awh, heck, I went wild and made it a double bobble - surely mocking myself for bobbling in the first place. Then, when I put them on to wear them, I was shocked at how pleasing it was to have a little ring of bobbles around the cuff - just a little bit of playful. Who knew? I bobble!

A Knuck Recipe

2009-01-11T19:06:00.000-05:00

Hot Mama Knucks
Disclaimer: I in no way claim to be a pattern writer. This is a ‘recipe’ which means it is a listing of the process I followed while knitting mine. You’re encouraged to use your own imagination, technique of choice, and general knitting prowess to make a better knuck.

Ingredients:

50 grams of Hot Mama Sock Yarn ( Enchanted Knoll Farm Colorway)
5 US 2 dpn’s
2 stitch holders
2 stitch markers
Chocolate

Seed stitch rib :
K3, k4 in seed stitch, k3 to end, ending with a k4 in seed stitch
Repeat this row.

Optional ‘Bobble’ spice:
K1, k5 times into same stitch, pass to right needle, ktbl of all 5 sts. Pass that 1 stitch back onto left needle and k 5 times into that stitch, then ktbl of those five sts, k1, k4 in seed stitch.

Painless Fingers:

One of the most challenging parts of glove or knuckle glove knitting is the fingers. Hears groans of those who despise knitting fingers….. The webbing is the trickiest part. I’ve found that, when joining to the previous web to knit a finger, those pesky loose stitches on the corner can be avoided by picking up the outside stitch of the palm stitch (marked as P'S) just past the 3 web stitches and knitting the first of the 3 web stitches with it in a k2tog.

oooxxxoooo= web stitches
oopxxxpooo = palm stitches

1. CO 63 sts
2. Work Seed Stitch Rib for 10 rows
3. Work Seed Stitch Rib with bobble for one row.
4. Work Seed Stitch Rib for 10 rows.
5. Work knuck in stockinette stitch for 16 rows.
Wrist shaping: dec 1 stitch at beg and end of the row every other round 4 times. Knit stockinette until cuff measures 4 inches.
1. Thumb Gusset: At beg. Of round, k1, pm, knit to last stitch, pm, k1.
2. K1, m1, pass marker, k to last marker, pass marker, m1, k1
3. Knit all sts.
4. Repeat rows 2 and 3 five more times.
5. Then, knit row 2 and knit row 3 twice (increasing every third round) three times (9 rounds).
6. Knit 4 rounds stockinette
7. Put all thumb sts on a holder and knit 4 more rounds.

The fingers are worked in this order: pinky finger, then ring finger, then middle finger, then pointer finger.
Pinky finger: Needle 1 being the beginning of the round at the thumb gusset . Knit all stts on needle 1, on needle 2, keep knitting sts onto needle 1, until you have 22 sts on needle 1.
Needle 2: knit 4 sts onto needle 2.
Needle 3: knit 5 sts onto needle 3. Place remainder of sts on the fourth needle on a holder. Cast on 3 sts to the end of needle 3. Transfer those 3 sts onto the empty fourth needle. Needles 2, 3, and 4 will be the finger sts. Knit 5 rounds. Purl 1 round. Knit 1 round, P 1 round. K 1 round. Bo sts loosely.

Ring finger: Pick up three sts from the web cast ons for the pinky finger. Knit 1 round of all finger sts. On the end of that round, k 8 sts onto their own needle (this will be needle #1 for working the ring finger), the three web sts, 8 sts from other side of palm, and cast on 4 sts for webbing on the side that will join with the middle finger. Knit 5 rounds, p 1 round, k 1 round, p 1 round, k1 round, BO loosely.

Middle Finger: Same as for ring finger but pick up 4 sts for webbing.
Pointer Finger: p up 4 webbing sts and remaining sts on the hand. K 5 rounds, p 1 round, k1 round, p 1 round, k 1 round, BO loosely.

Thumb: P up 3 web sts and the thumb sts on the holder. K 3 rounds. Dec 3 sts the next round. K 1 more round. P 1 round, k 1 round, p 1 round, k 1 round, BO sts loosely.

On the reputation of singles.......

2009-01-05T17:51:00.003-05:00

Singles always get a bad reputation, haven't you noticed? In yarn, I mean. I like to think the world has evolved enough that we, as human beings, are less quick to judge and measure based on things like whether or not we are 'attached' or, in the case of yarn, 'plied' to another. If such judgment is still rampant, I likely would be the last to know as I've not been single in some 16 years plus a dating period. So, if the world is still infantile, hateful, and selective based on the most primal need of human existence - to find only things that are like us and be terrified of anything or anyone who chooses a different path, please don't tell me today. I mean, I kind of know there's potential for it but, ahem, I am practicing ignorance (quite good at it, aren't I - LOL) for an attempt at inner peace at the moment. Or not.

It could be that I've just fallen so deeply into the pit of yarn lust that I am actually living and experiencing the world through the concerns of my yarn. Ahhhh, but that is so not surprising. I've long since been aware of the deepest levels of dorkdom that I can aspire to and, perhaps, even attain in this life. So, tell me, why do singles get treated with such disdain. At best, singles are passed off as an option for thick n thin yarn play for a squishy hat or scarf or, worse, labelled 'art yarn' and, thus, consecrated in the 'you only want a little of this because you can't really use it for anything' category. I mean, I took these batts and made them all into this pool of yarn love and, I've got to tell you, I'm itching to use them up in a project!

I've been loving singles for a long time so I've asked quite a few people why they don't love/trust/accept singles. Here's some of what I've heard in reply: Well, not here just yet because I need to type this sentence to tell you that I'll randomly be putting in some singles who need to be cuddled and loved and appreciated for their contribution to the fiber world and will note the yardage, fact stuffs, etc. after the reply they appear by in italics. So, again, here's some of what I hear and my response to the 'evidence against singles':

Singles always pill.
This is true and false. I've only been on this planet some 37 years so I'm no expert but one thing I think I can say with certainty is nothing does something EVERY TIME. Life as we know it is just too random and chaotic to allow religious repetition. There's always room for a heretic to bounce in and radically shift the scales of the word 'always'. Some singles do pill. Some plied yarns pill. The propensity to pill, in my experience, is more due to the quality/structure/blend of the fibers. If you've spun a yarn with a wildly varying mix of staple lengths, you know what I mean. When I blend my angora bunny into a batt, I have to be very careful. Angora, being a staple of less than 3 inches, generally speaking, likes to pill when carded with a 5 inch staple of wool. Still, when done carefully, it can be avoided. An addition of a stronger, yet, more slippery and less spongey fiber like silk or bamboo can significantly improve results. Likewise, breed differentiations, health of the animal, processing, etc. can greatly change the fibers that go into your spinning stuffs or commercially spun yarns. Singles don't determine pilling. Wool pills, sometimes....this one is credited to chaos - not singles. Life varies. Wool is alive. (This little skein is an 88 yard single spun from 1/3 of a jester batt that I had left over from another project. She is a silk/wool combo with some blingy stuffs in their and is included in the project pic above. Proof that singles make a great project as you can add little leftover bits from your stash together and make something fabulous)

Singles Bias
Again, the notion that something always does anything just baffles me. Yes, some singles will bias. This is mostly due to a common error that spinners make (especially when beginning) of over twisting the yarn. I've come to particularly despise this notion, though, because it really isn't fair. Some singles will bias. Some, though, like some of the popular lopi or noro style singles will fluff up and knit beautifully into a project. If you have a yarn that is mostly even but has a very few 'too tightly spun' spots, try going down a needle size or two and that can help correct a bias. Also, spin more. I don't like to waste anything so I don't advocate being a perfectionist or anything. I like plying when plying is appropriate but I also think that even to make a good plied yarn, knowing the first step - an awesome single, is the best start. As you improve your singles, you'll find that spinning them just a bit bulkier results in a gorgeously pillow soft yarn. It's the notion that the plying corrects the error of the over spun yarn in the first place that irks me, I think. Oh, who am I kidding? It's mostly just the lack of fairness in declaring all singles as 'biasers' that gets my goat. I knit with singles often. For the first few years that I was both a spinner and knitter in the wild and desolate area of Northern Maine - I was pretty much on my own. A group of other 'wannabe spinners' and I got together every few months to exchange ideas and have an excuse to pot luck but, beyond that, I was learning on my own, which is to say my errors were my teachers. I learned singles spinning and I never looked back. bows head in thanks to Paula Simmons..... I had no idea that the bias against singles was so strong until, at a fair one day, a woman picked up a hat of mine and remarked that she loved the yarn and how the heck did I knit those singles without a bias because singles always bias. I was astounded. I thought I must be knitting wrong (self taught knitters doubts, heh heh) or something because ALL singles bias and none of mine would do that. Really, I just look like I'm still bugged about it. I'm over it, promise! snork. The sparkling beauty on the left top of this ,~~rant~~ paragraph('Jadis' batts - spun in a 265 yd./2oz. skein of cool bliss) is part of a duo that began this whole project. The skein to the right and her knew they were destined to appear in a project together on account of their story. That lovely periwinkle skein on the right ('Ice Queen' 350 yds./3/6 ozs.) is the yarn I spun from my sweet David's batts (ComeInSpinner on Etsy). They arrived at the same time as I was developing a new colorway for the coming week I was calling "Jadis" in tribute to my fave character in the Lion,Witch & the Wardrobe series. It was so weird because David called these beauties 'Ice Queen' and, together, they whispered and enchanted me, too, just like their namesake. See how they're sitting, together, here, closely chaperoned by that dark purple and bossy ball of jester batt yarn in the back?

Singles break.
This is a totally understandable fear and,also, often true. It is tricky to find the balance between over-twist and spun so loosely that the yarn breaks with the slightest bit of tension. And, let's face it, no one wants to knit something that will unravel too quickly after the 'falling in love with your knits' process has occurred. But, finding that balance has grand rewards. I've found, most of the time, that singles are stronger than we give them credit for. A break or two in a skein doesn't necessarily mean that knitting that yarn is hopeless. Again, a slightly smaller needle than the project or yarn gauge would usually call for can do wonders to repair a weak yarn. I know it defeats the purpose to do so, but you could also knit two single strands held side by side if you're wanting to knit your singles, but worried that they won't wear or knit with the strength you need. And, of course, if you find your singles are continually 'breaky' - that means you probably want to add a little more twist. I am particularly smitten with this project - my conch shell vest from 'Dazzling Knits' spun with Cotswold singles and a thrill to knit. Who knew that the girl who lost her enrollment in the honor's program (and, thus, the scholarship) on account of the fact that, though she made straight A's in everything else and had a tutor, seriously failed Geometry, would be knitting modular? Proof that life laughs at you if you don't give in and giggle soon enough!

Singles aren't 'real' yarn.
I confess, I've only ever heard this once but it made smoke fly from my ears and took all the kindness and strength I had to smile and nod and button the opinion machine (aka - mouth) and say nothing. I just listened while a fellow spinner told me that thick n thin yarns were for people who couldn't care to bother with proper spinning and that no one in their right mind would spin a single for something like, gasp, a sweater. I had a sweater wip in my bag at the time and I swear I broke a sweat worrying about whether or not she'd seen me knitting on it earlier that day. I said nothing, but I haven't seen her in years. Singles are certainly REAL yarn. They are great yarns to use in a soft sweater that massages your skin while keeping you warm. I have, literally, worn my single spun sweater out. And, for the record, it outlasted two commercially spun/handknit sweaters that were 4 ply yarns. Seriously, though, if you think I'm still upset about this, trust me ~~she's totally lying~~, I'm way over it. (Rolls eyes) Another shot of my vest in progress because I'm so darned in awe of how a pile of little shells - such as those mangled little shells on the top left - get tamed by the circular needle and begin to feed on each other to become something like this (pic on the right). Smitten may not be the word. Picture a 5 year old getting JUST WHAT HE WANTS on Christmas morning under the tree. That's more like what I'm feeling for this project at the moment.

All that said, I am taking the evening to spin up a skein of sock yarn that I've been dyeing to knit. She will be a two ply. Then, I'm launching into spinning a 3 ply sweater's worth of yarn so, clearly, I am not entirely devoted to singles. All I'm really saying is - give peace (and singles) a chance. Oh, that and that I have had this nagging 'you haven't done something you should have done by now' feeling for a few days and realized (smacks forehead in disbelief that the time flies so quickly) I hadn't drawn the winner of the December Great Giveaway. So, I did, and Lorraine has a surprise of yarn lovin' coming her way. Woot Woot! The next Giveaway will be announced Feb. 1st. Okay, who do I think I am? It will be announced sometime AROUND Feb. 1st. There. That's better. This whole 'be more realistic in 2009' gig is a challenge!

Sayonara 2008

2008-12-27T14:09:00.002-05:00

“I know quite certainly that I myself have no special talent; curiosity, obsession and dogged endurance, combined with self-criticism, have brought me to my ideas.” Albert Einstein

The Holidays at our house went off without a hitch - mainly because it was just the five of us and there was an abundance of chocolate, good coffee, and some new games to play. Woot Woot! My special thanks to Lisa (knitmom-wi) for a lovely package containing said chocolate and coffee, which we enjoyed with cheers to you and yours, L! I hope that all of you had some time to spend with friends and family, some warmth restored to your hearts, and some cheer to get you through the lean times because I've yet to find a permanent antidote for them. Though, it remains what it has always been, a matter of perspective. Glass half empty, or half full and the other half is all happy inside your belly....it really can change depending on how you choose to look at it. I know, I hate it when people say that, too. So, I guess I hate myself! Laughs loudly at silly self and indulges self in a rendition of the Dead Milkmen singing, "I. hate myself. I hate myself. And you, I hate you! (Really, you know I don't but that's how the song goes)....etc.etc. with more silliness and the final dork stamp applied when my kids walk in the room and see me, roll their eyes, and re-affirm their notion that I am so NOT cool.

There were socks finished (that's Sedona up top and Big Kitty knit for a kiddo so the gauge is a bit different, resulting in more stripes and less 'space' of tiger colors between them but he loves them all the same) and other stuffs like a cowl or two and some hats that were thrown together in those wee hours of stove loading with that fuuurrreeezing cold snap just before and during the holiday week (see previous post about why we just make it easy on ourselves and party all week long for fear that if not, we'll grow tired of it, and, gasp, forget some one's birthday, Solstice, or Christmas - insert panic and sweaty palms, here because it's easier to do than you'd think) and wrapped before I found the camera. The Esmeralda socks I made thing 2 are not here, either, as they are on his feet...where they have been....since they were opened, slung on the old dogs, and are now days into the wearing and have been ordered to washie land before they can be pretty for the camera or stop serving as the family smelling salts should someone be knocked out. And, you know, that's just all too possible around here. We're not often starved for what I kindly refer to as 'Gilligan moments' here at the funny farm. Just this morning, when loading the stove, with my back turned on the kids, I heard Thing 2 say to his brother, "Hey, toss me that tape measure, would you?" The hairs on my neck raised. My mommy alerts went off and the sirens were LOUD. Tossing tape measure - not good. Sounds like, 'fool, don't do that' started to come out of me but, too late. The 'thonk' of the tape measure hitting Thing 2 squarely on the nose was spine tingling. He grabbed his nose and started moaning and I could see blood between his fingers so I grabbed the paper towels and, while I was headed over to the couch to tend to him, his little brother was about to start crying he was so worried, saying over and over as he approached the brother on the couch bleeding, "Thing2, I'm so sorry, are you okay?" He leaned in just as Thing 2 leaned over to bleed on the floor, not the couch (such a kind, thoughtful child - and, yes, he's prone to nose bleeds so we knew he was probably okay) and his leg, having to come out from underneath him so he kicked it ever so gently behind hin which shouldn't have been a problem but....that was where thing 3 was standing doting on his wounded brother who was moving his leg and.....you guessed it, moved it right to the little one's nether portions....causing him to also double over in pain and big sis and I to apply nurse care and then run in the kitchen to laugh wildly, again. I recruited the huscreature for some of that gift knitting. He made an awesome hat for thing 3 out of some of my bulky spun but got through it too quickly for my tastes as I was going cross-eyed knitting socks into the wee hours to try to finish them all before present day. Life is just not fair, ya know?

There were some things that didn't make it to the finish line - like these handspun socks from the October Hooves batts called, "Harvest". Clearly, I am not even close to being done with my journey with this yarn. And, as weird as it may sound when you read on - I don't really mind. I don't want to rush it, which is odd for me because, when I'm excited about something, I generally like to jump in full bore and consume myself with it. This journey is different.....and it begs for patience and time.

A large part of this lingering is ego. I'm a little afraid of how they'll look. Usually, I would spin an array of color, such as the Harvest batts with their earthy browns, golds and wine contrasted with teals, yellow and red bits, sari silk, and angelina sparkles of excitement in a semi-calculated manner. I don't go ripping the batt apart color by color or anything. More, I'd tear each batt in strips, try to mediate the color distribution in each pile, spin them each onto their own bobbin (remember, these were wild cards so each single batt will look pretty different or, combined, they will look....well, pretty wild) then ply them into a 3 ply of wild, bold color that is still somewhat disciplined. That would be the sensible way to spin them. Only, as luck would have it, October was so not about sensibility. I did spin them into a 3 ply but, instead of stripping the batts and trying to control them, I just sat down at the wheel (it was a spinning 'therapy' month, not a spinning 'yarn' month) and unrolled the batt and let the wheel turn. I have no idea what to expect or how the colors will unfold. The nervous fluttering I get from that is both nauseating and titillating at the same time. It's part of how I dance with enduring.

A smaller part is sort of nervous about the journey because of the tender spots that still remain from our tumultuous Fall on the farm. It didn't really start in the Fall. In fact, I pretty sure it didn't even start when I started to notice it because, ya'll know, it just never does. We sort of slid into 2008 with all sorts of expectations, hopes and some fear and trepidation. It was a 'marker' year in our dream - which meant there would be the painful reconciling with successes that weren't (this means there were MANY arguments about parts of the house that are not complete, or worse, are a pile of lumber under tarps along the driveway and me still trying to keep a kitchen in a box the size of most people's closets and dreaming of a warm bathroom). It meant celebrating the growth we have accomplished and trying to make new goals that would breath some hope into the tenseness that we call living in Maine - the state of a real 4 seasons - off the grid (ahem - why didn't we know this was nuts?) This is to say there were beautiful moments of us all working together and feeling like the luckiest people/pets/sheep in the world. Appreciating those 'light bulb' moments where we might have given up and felt defeated but, instead, figured out an inventive solution that, get this, worked! Woohoo! It meant we had to struggle to put both of these highly charged aspects into a NEW plan that reconciles more with reality, walks the path we're headed down with more clarity, and vows to see it through, to love it dearly, even if it is kicking you in the netherbits. The reality that shepherd after shepherd was culling part or all of their flock and shaking their heads when we said, "no way, we're staying in," like we were lost children or something. The reality that shocked us - it's really not at all cheaper to live off the grid. In fact, you work lots harder for even simple pleasures like lights, power, baths, watering stock, even driving down the road that you are charged with maintaining all four seasons of the year. You grow most of your own food (though, not this year or we'd have starved - the garden was a mass heap of bug deception, slugs that don't pass out no matter how much beer you give them, and root crops that just laughed at us.....urgh)work so hard, and still, your bills are bills just like everyone else. We didn't decide to homestead because of frugality. We did it because we love our Mother. We did it because we love the land, the animals, and the peace and quiet. We did it because we believe it is right for all of us, however we see that we can, to try to make change in as many different ways as we can - so as to dismantle the old system of ignorance and consumption that keeps getting us in trouble on so many levels. Still, the knowledge that we've signed on to do some things the hard way and we're still working our rears off to pay the bills was a sobriety I wasn't at all prepared for....eeek!

It's no wonder that, for a few months there, we were hard pressed to find a sensible reason to answer the 'why's' that we hear so often. We'd surely lost hope. Looking at it, now, I think we had to come to that to 'marry' the homestead for real. To accept its flaws, invite it's lessons, and vow to stay with it - even if, sometimes, it really wasn't fun at all.
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totally off topic but need to throw some yarn in here for cheap thrills, which we all need. This is my next pair of handspun socks. I know, I showed it to you a week or more ago as a hat for my friend, H. But, after spinning it, I thought about her colors and realized she'd like more purple and less red so I'm working up a skein for her with some brown sparkly batts and a strand of the same silk road roving. The sparkly skein is a vardo batt. I tore it in half, spun each half onto a bobbin, and plied them - 2 ply, 290 yds. from one 2.2 ozs. batt - Woot!. The other yarn is my 'Silk Road' roving - spun fine and 2plied as well - I just split the four ozs. braid in half lengthwise, spun each half onto a bobbin same as for the vardo batts. 370 yds., 15 wpi. Y---yuuum!

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And, you know, for growth like that to happen, things had to drastically change - which means some people had to freak out, some cried, some tried, and some hunkered down at their (her) wheel and started spinning to save herself.

Times are better, now, and the new changes that we're making are seeming to make alot of difference in the day to day of the life, ya know? Simple things, really. Like, enduring, and searching for perspective when it's lost to us, and trying to find a way to view the glass half full even if we know ourselves to be thirsty and having not drank the half a glass. The whole endurance theme is kind of a private joke around here. Back when those tense discussions were happening and nice things to say to each other were few, maybe none for a while, we (meaning the huscreature and I) resorted to occasionally pretending we were children and spewing little criticisms at one another while pounding our brave chests like each of us was winning. One day, he thought to tell me I'm all about endurance and also a stubborn old goat and that I will continue to survive in the midst of pure misery just out of stubbornness long after a sensible person would head for the hills and start again. I countered with something equally silly and pathetic like that the whole house could burn down around him and he'd sit there smoking and flinching insisting that we all just WORK THROUGH IT. The silliest part is that we were both right, and both terribly wrong in assuming that either person should change those qualities. They are what makes our team work. What needed to change was the lack of love that we'd been putting into our own unique methods of making things work. Later, we'd laugh about it but he would admit that he often uses the blocking of reality through muscle and sweat theory and I had to admit that I'm the most stubborn goat I know.....horns clanking in the background...lol.

So, we had a holiday, a few birthdays, and some goodies. Huscreature turned forty and, though he had a black eye (and, I swear it, I had nothing to do with it - you know I'd take credit if I could!lol) and felt so tired he had to nap on the couch that evening, I did not turn him into a toad and he took to the half-full glass with vigor and enjoyed his favorite, red velvet cake. I swear, he does that just to freak me out because he knows I worry about the links to excessive food coloring consumption and increased asthma attacks in children....but, I'm learning to loose the reigns of control and let the man eat four pounds of red food coloring if need be. We learned that there is humor in every day. In the particular day of the black eye, it came in the form of mister 'work and hurry through everything' down in the barn, stepping on a rake that was left propped against the barn wall, and popping himself so hard in he eye that he sported a black eye for days! The funniest part is that he apparently came in and explained the whole thing to everyone but, we were so busy getting the tree up, the presents wrapped, the food on, that we all just brushed him off and didn't even realize what he was saying. A day or so later, I looked at him and asked, "Are you wearing makeup on your eyes?" Which, if you had to wear your sister's hand-me-down bell bottoms as a kid, is almost always a troubling question. "No," he says, "I told you, yesterday, that I hit myself in the eye." I, clearly, haven't finished growing up because I spit out my coffee laughing as he relayed the whole story, in slow motion of the feeling of the rake beneath his foot, and the knowing that it has a handle....sooo......pop! Ouch! picture farm-witch rolling on the floor screeching with laughter....

That pretty much sums up the perspective principle, non? Half empty? Nah! If you can laugh about it, it's all good... and it's not like it was my eye or anything....snork

dizzing a batt...draped over a many layers casserole of stuffs

2008-12-20T19:42:00.002-05:00

This will be one of those posts that hugs a central 'theme' but wanders comfortably around some chatting material all the while. Oh, and picture heavy to boot. If you haven't run away, screaming, just yet - hey! Welcome!

I'm up feeding the wood stove on what is only the middle of a very cold snap. You know it's cold when the single digits seem like an optimistic goal. I just went over to the online weather source and they clocked us at an impressive 1.8 degrees F. I mean, not zero, but just escaping it by the skin of our teeth. So, I'm glad to have these spicy skeins of yarn sitting by my side. These are the 'Red Silk Kimono' batts from this month's Happy Hooves club - all spun up and ready to be knit into a shrug for me....should I ever crawl out from under the pile of ~~guilt~~ holiday knitting. But, rest assured, this late in the game - we're not going to speak of holiday knitting, anymore. Nope, we're going to look away and pretend we don't see those two socks still sitting in the knitting basket - their little dpn's hopelessly strewn about them and making them look like mangled yarn violence. uh, uh, We simply REFUSE TO SEE IT and it, surely, cannot get the better of us. And, may our decorative card-stock (handmade - heh!) IOU's be a reigning in and sort of beacon of wisdom to help us see our lofty and errant goals for gift knitting in the future. Or, if not, just don't let the guilt and feeling of general desperation and hopelessness return until the same time next year - LOL! One of my favorite ways to spin a 2 ply from such bold colors is to mix and match the gauge of yarn. For this one, I made two of the three batts into a fingering wgt. yarn and then spun the other batt very fine. This helps to elongate the colors so that you get an even spread of boldilicious yarn. .So, from left to right we have: one little skein of 2 ply - dk wgt and 55 yds and to the right of it, a bigger skein of 2 ply (200 yds). Two little skeins of ends were Navajo plied and total 80 yds (they're hanging out all casual-like on the bottom right) and the 'mmmmmmmmm' skein on the far upper right is one strand of the 'red silk kimono' batts and one strand of a 'so sari' batt from the shop. Richy filled with sari strands and unashamedly BOLD. They are pairing up with that 50/50 wool/silk yarn I dyed red - waiting with my malachite wood knitting needles from Autumn Hollow Farm to be mine, all mine - should that thing we're not going to be talking about (~~gift knitting~~) ever be done with.....taps fingers restlessly on counter....

So, I get this question more and more and it generally goes like, "How do you spin from a batt?" Now, there are a million answers to that one question but no one really asks it because they want to be TOLD what to do. They ask for the same reason I ask - because they are formulating their own 'way' of doing it. You know, you find your jumping off spot and try to be well informed and then - $#@#splash$$#% - you swim your own way. Most of the time, I just pull the batt open and start spinning. But, in a certain situation, such as was the case with the bold color contrasts of these batts, I think dizzing the batt is the way to go. Note: the pics I will show you of dizzing a batt are MISREPRESENTATIONS. Seriously! They aren't really the red silk kimono batts AT ALL. I've long since missed the opportunity (read here, forethought) to include a pic of those batts being prepped. It was a primal thing that overtook me and they were on the wheel before I knew it. I did diz them, though, I just have no proof that I actually did so, you'll have to take my word for it. snork I began by laying the batt out flat and beginning to tear off a long strip of fiber down the length of the batt, stopping just short of severing it entirely so I can start tearing a noodle back down the other direction. It shouldn't provide me with some perverse pleasure to tear the strips and leave the entire mass connected so I can have one long, continuous ball of roving but, it does, so there you have it. I strive for it which makes me a genuine dork but, here is the whole shebang with not one really severed end.

Gently pull the roving through the diz, after loosening the mass behind the diz - it's a hand to hand rhythm that you'll polish with your own technique once you've done it a time or two. Just don't tug too hard or you break the magic noodle and, well, actually nothing really happens other than the roving is broken into smaller noodles but, I'm all for drama so I like to pretend it's really important! Then, you wrap your noodle (or noodles)into a big ole ball and you feel rightly proud of yourself. Let this linger a while if you can because you just never know how quickly that satisfaction can transform into growling should the wheel and fiber be out to play tricksey and make you spin all wonky in spite of yourself.

Now, the topic shifts wildly to a little Solstice Spin-In that we're partaking in in the Ravelry group. Do join us - the only rule being you must make something for you. You heard me right and I know it is truly scandalous to think of doing such a thing when those things that we're NOT MENTIONING here are still not finished. The gift socks are talking to me - oh nooooooos! These batts will become a vest. Really, they will.

I've been talking to many of my friends, lately, having realized a while back that I had become far too focused on only the family and not necessarily giving the friendships the time they deserved - because they are the well from which I drink and they are so very important. It would seem that many of us have had a rocky road to walk in 2008 and the holidays, for some of us, just don't have their usual magic and warmth to them this year. So, I just wanted to be sure to send out some loving cyber/fiber hugs and say thanks to the many people who've been kind, open, and every steady friends from the ole blog-thingummie. Ya'll rock.

In the rocking department, I always place Susan. Susan is one of those beautiful people who always says something that makes you feel great - even if you thought yourself too sad or glum to believe you could. So, I got this card from Susan the other day (mwah! thanks, Susan) and it was just so beautiful. I've read it every day and only after the first few did I finally stop choking up and getting all teary-eyed. Once, I bashed myself for being such a goober that I didn't even send out Christmas cards this year....but I stopped that right away because that was just silly and also not a credit to the beautiful sentiment of the card. So,without further ado, I leave you with this and a glass of fire whiskey to keep you warm on the inside!

a card from Kathy Davis Studios:

The Greatest Gifts:
May we break boundaries, tear down walls, and build on the foundation of goodness inside each of us. May we look past differences, gain understanding, and embrace acceptance. May we reach out to each other, rather than resist. May we be better stewards of the earth, protecting, nurturing, and replenishing the beauties of nature. May we practice gratitude for all we have, rather than complain about our needs. May we seek cures for the sick, help for the hungry, and love for the lonely. May we share our talents, give our time, and teach our children. May we hold hope for the future very tenderly in our hearts and do all we can to build for a brighter tomorrow. And may we love with our whole hears, for that's the only way to love.......

Bulky is not a bad word!

2008-12-15T16:46:00.003-05:00

I have to admit that I tend to think of merino in terms of lace and fingering spinning. Okay, sometimes I go really wild and spin a dk wgt for the softness. But, it hasn't always been that way. I used to love spinning a softie, bulky single with my merino. Truly, there is nothing like it for that squishy soft knit project. The urchin I made last week was well received but also, Thing 1 really loved it. So, that got my brain to thinking. I don't have the approximately 26 knitting hours left to finish her rogue but, I did have 6 hours this week to do the following.

Firstly, I spun up three skeins of bulky merino - none of which I have a picture of....just in case you thought I'd gone and become reliable on you! It took about an hour to spin each skein a 2 ply bulky except for one skein that I left a single. You'll see them, soon, though, because they are last minute 'quickie' gifts. For this project, I took one jester batt (approximately 2 ozs) and spun it in a medium wgt single. Then, I spun the 2 ozs. of 'sari' roving that I had into a bulky strand. I plied the two together, all except for 40 yds. of singles in the merino roving that I plied together, leaving me with a 20 yd. skein of super soft 2 ply. Note that, to this moment, we're talking about a mere hour's worth of spinning, here.

I used the 2 ply to make another urchin, which is a quick knit but took me a little over 4 hours due to the hacking, sneezing, and periodic bouts of flinging my arms in the air and begging for mercy or merely to be put out of my misery for good. Gawd, I love the flu, don't you? By the time I finished the urchin, my hands were shaky, the fever was boiling, and I was doomed to bed for a few hours. But, when I woke up, I started right in on that whopping 20 yds. of bulky wgt. yarn. I know, you were probably skeptical when I said only 20 yards. Truth be told, I was a little skeptical, too. But, I just dug in and improvised this little 'I'm not a scarf' collar to match Thing 1's hat. It has to pretend not to be a scarf, you see, because I have recently been informed by said recipient that she loathes scarves and doesn't like things wrapped around her neck. Like or not, we live in central Maine so the neck does require some warmth and attention. So, I decided to go for something REALLY, REALLY SOFT and also kind of 'cool'.

The best part? Just a little yarn, just a little time (about 40 minutes), and just two buttons and all finished. I took about 3 yards of the yarn I'd used for the urchin and made two i-cord loops for buttons. Then, I cast onto the edge of one with 3 sts. I added three stitches or so every other row until I had 10 sts. On the 4th row, I cast off two sts. in the middle of the row, which I replaced by casting them on the next row, again - resulting in a loose button hole for the other i-cord button loop to slide into. So, at 10 sts, I just started knitting garter stitch until I was at a right length for the next width. Decrease in the same pace you did the increases with (3 sts every other row until you have only one stitch left) and attach the other i-cord button loop. Viola! Pick out some cool buttons to accent your yarn and sew them on and you have a 'I'm not a scarf' present.

All totaled, we're talking about 6ish hours, here of spinning and knitting time. Of course, if you're a fast knitter or not afflicted with the flu, you might go even faster. See, I told you, there's still time. Of course, I couldn't pass up passing on a too cute and quick gift idea that Lisa pointed out on the ravelry thread. These would be cute little gifties, too.

Don't make me do it!

2008-12-13T13:22:00.003-05:00

I hate shopping. Really, I do! Okay, I don't mind grocery shopping because I love to cook so, the shopping part, to me, is all part of that process. I hate 'other' shopping, though - to the sad and pathetic point that I will actually wear a garment or underthingie long past its viability JUST SO that I don't have to wander through department stores. For the holiday season, double the dose for how much I hate shopping.

Yet, every year, as I crawl from beneath the pile of things I have knit and things I haven't, I pout a little. Why do I have to knit all my gifts? The answer is easy. Firstly, I don't have to, I choose to. I seem to just forget a large part of why I choose to. I choose it because it is something I do fairly well and people seem to love receiving hand-knits. Also, I do it because I hate shopping. Really, I do.

So, the other night we found ourselves (meaning, the whole family including both of the parents and three tired kiddos) 45 miles away from home in a terrible storm with ice, freezing rain, and snow. Now, I realize that such an occurrence might send normal people home on the double but, we chose to stick it out a while. For these reasons.

1. The salt trucks and plows would not be out until the storm had calmed a little so, ironically, the beginning of the storm is the most dangerous to drive in.

2. Every whacko in the region will be hitting the highway at the beginning of the storm which, curiously enough, did not include us but also makes it a more dangerous time to be driving with very limited visibility and ice and such. The ones who are just leaving happy hour are a nightmare, as are the people (like myself, which is why I wasn't driving) who are scared of careening off the highway at high speed upon hitting black ice so they go 30 mph, causing the guy freshly plucked from happy hour to make dangerous passes and you see just where this is going, don't you?

So, we did what sensible people would do, we shopped. I haven't been shopping in such a long time that I almost forgot how much I hated it. We dropped the cool teen off at her favorite haunt - the book store, and the guys were headed to the home building supply depot thingie. I went next door to a few department stores hunting down some 'special' and inexpensive things to put under the tree. Which brings me to the reasons that I despise shopping.

1. When every other sane person is at or headed home in a storm, the lone woman who is unskilled at shopping pressure walking along the isles is open season for the sales clerks who, no matter how nicely they say, 'can I help you?' it always creeps me right out. I finally had to draw the line as one woman tried to sell me something while I was in a sneezing fit. She asked what colors I thought the recipient of my gift would like while I was completing sneeze #4 and I answered with one word, "tissues?". It was then that I learned that the key to getting away from clerks who creep you out is to be more creepy - they cleared the floor and I was so alone after that that I had to ring for a cashier to check me out.

2. Gullible people like myself should not believe the signs of 30-50-70% off that are pasted all over the stores this time of year. I bought 6 items on my little trip. At the first store, wherein it became clear to me that the perfume was not the cause of my sneezing but more that I had finally started to succumb to the cold thingie that has circulated throughout the house this last week, once I cleared the floor by asking for a snot wiping device, all was well. Only, I bought 3 things that were SUPPOSED to be 50% off. Guess what dopey was sneezing all through the checkout and only noticed, upon putting away the loot after returning home, that none of them were discounted at the register. Urgh. Just urgh. I don't like to have to hen peck the clerk and say, 'no that's insert sale price, here' and heckle them to go check and adjust it. And, I was sick and shaky and fuzzy headed with sneezing. Urgh. Why can't they have the right prices without the heckling?

3. See #2 for the second shop. I bought the kiddos a sweatshirt and a package of underwear. The underwear (which, if they are reading the blog when they know they aren't permitted to - holiday rules - then it will serve them right that I am pulling a 'mom' and humiliating them by mentioning their underwear to EVERYONE) were supposed to be 30% off but this time I was on my game and questioned the clerk about the lack of the discount on the receipt. She just smiled and explained that the underwear NEXT to the ones I bought must have been on sale. By then, I just wanted to grab a coffee and go home so I just let it go. Still, it irks me. How many goofies like me go in to shop through the holiday dread and walk out unaware that they've just been duped?

I hate shopping. Really, I do.

If you're wondering if I just came here to whine, then you're right, sort of. My brewing hatred of shopping did spark a deeper appreciation for gift knitting and I came up with a few quick solutions for neato gifts that we still have time to prepare. I've got mine blocking and will be back to show them to you on Monday. In the midst of having a cold that makes me feel like someone is squeezing my head, we also have a packed weekend of event attending. Ugh. What's a homebody like me to do?

Things I did while on mental vacation from Holiday Knitting....

2008-12-08T17:09:00.002-05:00

If you've never dipped your foot into the river of denial, be forewarned - it is a truly orgasmic experience. If you could suspend yourself there, at that moment, you would be at peace. Unfortunately, like any escape, bathing in this river is addictive in a primal sort of way. I always attribute this to the withdrawal of the soporific effects of the waters. There you are, all relieved of your burdens of silly ole reality, free flowing and out of reach of the grip of potential disastrous consequences, and, then, you plummet into this cold, dark, wet hole that is the 'WTF, I thought I was going along fine but then someone stole a couple of weeks off the calender' place.

I've dipped a foot, as I'm sure you know. But, at the time, the foot just wasn't able to provide the hefty dose of 'good vibes' I was needing so I stripped on the bank, jumped in, and have been dodging the calendar frogs all week. I am astounded at how slippery I've become - and how quickly I learned to trick the calendar bearing frogs ribbiting their mocking songs from the banks whist hoisting calendars in the air and ripping the pages off flamboyantly and tossing them into the water. I just kept ducking under and letting the days float past me - walking the fine line between still getting my work done and keeping appointments but detaching myself entirely from conceptualizing that the 5th of December on an invoice or package meant that the 'knitting projects' penciled on the calendar BEFORE that day should have been done. I'm not doing what I've done in years past and staying up all night to knit feverishly, I am going to be a grown-up and do the right thing - I'm finishing the socks and giving away I.O.U's for the sweaters. What? Why are you looking at me like that?

Finishing the socks is not a small feat and I promise that this compromise has nothing, I repeat - NOTHING to do with the fact that I am currently caught in a rabid state of desiring a handspun sweater or 20 for myself RIGHT NOW. I will admit that, instead of working on Thing 1's rogue this morning, I fondled two sweater's worth of handspun all caked up and we talked about how soon they could be made into something warm for me. I've pretty much worn out 2 of my sweaters and I feel like I'm in a crisis shortage of warm stuffs. I can't imagine what fuels this madness - apart from the two days of howling winds and our triumphant group cheer at noon today when we finally topped the single digits (got to a whopping 12 degrees F today). I may not be staying up all night to knit holiday gifts - but it will be a night of tandem stove loading as we're not expected to get out of the single digits until tomorrow afternoon - when it is reported we will go from single digits to a balmy 40ish degrees. Am I the only one who's wanting to pull a Dorothy and stomp over to the curtain, pull it back thereby exposing the man behind it, and give him a good talking to? I mean, two days after this - we'll be back in the single digits. So.Not.Funny.

The sock problem is also not funny. See, I don't know if you remember that I had this brilliant plan last summer. Instead of waiting until December-summit-or-other to realize that the holiday knitting was in big trouble, I decided I'd start on some socks for gifts right away. Uh, okay - I got three socks made for three kids (yes, one each because I am no brain sturgeon, doncha know?). To further substantiate my claims of conspiracy - every single child has had a change of dramatic proportions in shoe size. So, those first three socks? I had to rip the toes back, re-knit a longer foot, and contemplate my boring idiocy at choosing to knit the same stockinette ribbed sock for EVERYONE - dooming myself to tedium as if that would ensure I wouldn't wait until December-summit-or-other to finish them. I am dutifully working on them everyday....promise!

Still, though, I must rebel sometimes. I've found myself huddling next to a warm-making device dizzing batts with unnatural cheer for it. Partly because I have come to understand and appreciate how much easier it is to spin a fine thread from a batt if you diz them first and also because I can do it whilst sipping coffee under a warm blanket. I tear the batt in a sort of zig zag - about 10-12 sections for a super fine lace. If you don't tear off the ends but leave them slightly connected, you can pull the roving strands through your diz and have a great big fluffy ball of roving when you're done. I know it's silly but, I couldn't help myself, I had to see if I could tear the whole batt without breaking it and then pull it through the diz. I got the whole 'fern' batt done in one noodle. It gave me immense pleasure which only proves I'm still mentally 12 to achieve this - sort of like that phase when I derived such pleasure from peeling the label off a bottle of beer all in one piece, before I was apprised of the fact that that meant something I didn't know it meant. You can always count on me to be a total dork.

Aside from the aforementioned 'compromises' of the holiday knitting, I am pretty home free. Not really, I know you know that but, please, I've been out of the water too long and my fins are cracking. I really should make something for the other half but I can't seem to come up with anything beyond that joke set including poison sea urchins disguised as a pillow with fluffy knitted borders so I'm still on the fence on that. I'm supposed to make my dear friend of 20 or more years a hat with one strand of the 'silk road' roving and one strand of the vardo batts and, as you can see, I no only haven't knit the hat but, uh, haven't even spun the yarn. No worries, she know me well enough to know that the knitted gift comes in late January. In all fairness, I did offer her a gift card to the bookstore but she picked the hat, so.......

Then, there's the roving and batts that are whipmering in the basket going, 'you never, never pet us anymore' and I heard them squeal REALLY loud when I put this package on the 'top' of them this afternoon. MMMMMMM, comeinspinner is really my sweet David and these batts are truly divine. Polwarth....yum. Alpaca....double yum. Silk.....Swoon! sparkle? I'm so in trouble! I want to spin them right.this.minute. When you cross David with batts with luxuriously smooth fibers, I may have made some inappropriate noises and moaned a little as I put them back in their wrapping and opened the Pandora's box (also known as my 'to be spun immediately' basket) of howling voices.

I did actually spin and make something for gifting. Remember that winterberry roving that my dear friend JudyMac sent for my birthday? And that gorgeous roving of alpaca merino, and silk from Loribird? Well, upon receiving them I decreed they would be for a fine, lacey yarn. Not true. When the time came to spin them, I was not in a 'lace' place and I have learned that when a fiber breaks rank and tells you to change YOUR mind about what it will be when it grows up, you should listen. I wanted to use the yarns made from these rovings with some of my own batts and make a sort of 'infused' yarn - strong with the power of the feminine. So, I spun the winterberry merino into a single, coiled some silky 'lady of the lake' batts around it, and plied with the the singles from the alpaca yarn. I had a great, big skein with which I made this urchin (and probably have enough to make another one and then some) for my dance instructor. I've been thinking much, as we approach the space of time before the holidays wherein we take a month long break from classes, about how grateful I am that I've started dancing with her, again. I also made her this little 'zill pouch' belt from some black magic woman batts that I'm hoarding for a sweater. I love the urchin pattern - such a quick and easy knit that fits really well. Here's a 'zoom' shot of the coils, which are surprisingly soft because they are mostly silk. I love the shimmery, silvery rainbow of color in this yarn - so cool and subtle but chock full of magical shimmer. So, I'm getting something done, at least, in between feeding the wood stove dragons and wondering just what funny twist of possibilities could be around the corner.

2008-12-03T16:28:00.004-05:00

No one can dub you with dignity. That's yours to claim.- Odetta

Man, oh man, when it rains, it pours. We've finally had a respite from the rain of the natural kind, though I shed a few tears to learn of this sad loss. What can you say about such a woman? There really aren't words to describe the admiration I feel for Ms. Odetta - so strong a woman, with such a beautiful soul. I think this video of her still belting out the soul at 77 just a few months back kinda says it all. Wherever you go, the light is better....

I've been rediscovering how important music is in my own life. Somehow, I forgot along the way that rhythm and beat are such an essential part of keeping tapped into the 'good' places that keep you afloat in the craziness of the 'real' world. In the last few months, I've begun to see how much I'd forgotten music, how little time I spent actually listening to music at all, let alone having it in the background of my work day. Part of this is due to the election. The husbeast is very much into talk radio. I used to be but have grown weary of it over time. I'm more of a news junkie. So, for months on end - it was either total silence, kid chaos, awkward silence, talk radio, or news non-stop. Ick! No wonder I started to wear my frown dress more than my smile gown! The other part is on account of my 'forgetting' that fun is an essential part of living. All work and no play made this farm-witch want to scream fire nails! No worries, I'm back on the 'remember to have a little fun, you' horse again and, wow, I've missed this! And, you know, that 'awkward' silence has gone away, too. It seems that I'm not the only one (really, I knew I wasn't but you know you have to act all surprised and not let on that you see these things or certain peoples can get creeped out by the depth of how well you know them and, naturally, see an opportunity to rebel) who was feeling the weight of not having fun on the funny farm. So, I just dove in and started and all the little ducks quickly followed. The drake sat off to the side for a while refusing to join in but, alas, he could resist no longer and has actually smiled and conversed and generally indicated a return to the person he was prior to the surprise and unkindly personality transplant that occurred a few months back and lingered far too long. Just sayin! At first, when he tried to catch up to the duck and her clutch, they tried to outrun him but, after pecking him sorely and squawking very loudly, they went back to waddling in their previously arranged order.

And, you know where this is going already, don't you? It is time for us to bring back the Great Giveaway. Only, for 2009, I'm going to change it up a little. The new giveaway is thus: Every other month, I'll post some sort of challenge or answer thingummie much like what we've always done. Then, I will package a special 'surprise' of fiber or yarn stuffs based on the person who wins and their tastes. I sure hope Carol is still talking to me because I just realized the other day that I never sent her her Great Giveaway pressies so, Carol, I humbly ask you to forgive me and love me anyway and I threw some handspun yarn in the mail to you today. Mwah! I need to change it to every other month because, obviously, I am a toad and I cannot keep up with too many things on a regular basis so every other month works for me and I'm making it a surprise because, duh, what was I thinking? That's half the fun! For this month, tell me what you're listening to. I know, we've done songs before. Funny songs. But, this time, tell me what you're listening to. Here's my top 5 songs I've played for the last week (with the obvious exception of the song noted of Odetta's above)

Nina Simone - Want a little sugar in my bowl
The Sundays - I kicked a boy (I've loved this song forever - and, yes, I've kicked a boy or two in my time so maybe that's why)
jimmie dale gilmore - just a wave, not the water
blitzen trapper - fur
and Francine Reed - Wild Women
I've put in youtube links where I could but they sound much better as mp3 downloads or, if you're still a generation behind as am I - a good, old fashioned cd. What tunes have you been singing this week?

It hasn't been all fun around the farm this last week, though. Actually, it has been quite sad. This summer, we added 5 ewes to our herd. Three were cotswolds - 1 with a gorgeously lusterous and true black fleece. They are called 'Storm' (guess what, she's the one with a black fleece), 'Cloud' (who has quickly become 2's new 'buddy' and they are getting hard to tell apart. These Cotswolds originated on the same farm that our herd did so we wonder if maybe they're not distant cousins or something with the way they look alike and have become attached to each other) and 'Zora' who was named thus after the crazy, independent ewe in 'Three Bags Full'.
'Zora' let us know right away that her soul belongs to no one and that this means it is perfectly reasonable and beyond need of forgiveness for her to decimate a whole row of green beans in the garden. Needless to say, it took a while for us to 'bond' proper like but she's starting to understand that the madwoman screaming only does so when, guess what, you're in her garden? Not jumping the fence, she has surmised, is a good place to remedy that issue. The other two ewes were targhees. I love targhees and they are some of the sweetest sheep I've ever known. These two girls were a little thin when they came here and one ewe, the one we call 'heather' (can you tell we love the book 'three bags full'?) has done quite well. She's gained weight well, appears to be very healthy, and is fitting in nicely with the herd. The other ewe, whom I named 'Esmaralda' because I'm so smitten with that colorway and wanted to save that name for a very sweet ewe, became very ill and we decided over the weekend to stop her suffering. Yeah, it was hard. But, we've never had a case of toxemia in our 10 plus years of farming sheep and the rate or hope of survival for her was long passed. We just couldn't see letting her continue to suffer a long, painful descent into the land of eternal sweet pastures. In it's own way, that, too, is an act of courageous love. I try to remember that.

So, it would seem the salts of life and the sweet spice continue to struggle for balance and, really, we'd have it no other way. Sometimes, you pull yourself up and muster the courage to go on and, whammo!, a test of your resolve is right at the ready. No matter, you just have to keep on keeping on. Humor, though, and music, and even a good dose of fun can be lifesavers of the sweetest kind.

Kind of like this afternoon, when Thing 1 just seemed to crack for no noticeable reason and yell at her brother. I could tell by her tone that this was serious but, upon entering the room, I was hearing the weirdest bunch of words in sentence together - it just didn't make sense. Something about graham crackers in her new flannel sheets and a bunch of silly notes and being poisoned or something. I recognized it right away because once, over the weekend, I heard a very similar rant but, when they brought it to me, I was in the crux of making the decision about our ewe in trouble and I gave them that scarily calm mom voice and said, "guys, is this really life threatening or can we maybe talk about this problem in a bit?" They agreed and went away muttering promises of revenge and, since it didn't come up again, I assumed they'd settled it. Then, this afternoon, I was instantly reminded of the same. It would appear that we all have interesting ways to deal with the stress that this weekend provided. Thing 1 likes to sit in her room listening to music and reading or sewing or knitting, or writing to friends. A typical, even normal desired stream of activities for a 15 year old girl. Thing 2, however, proving, once again, that the middle child is always the one to watch (I know, I was one!) has delighted himself and relieved his own stress and sorrow about the whole thing by doing gross things to graham crackers and then leaving them on his sister's bed with a note saying, "eat" on them. There may have been some with ketchup smeared on the bottom, or, in his grand moment of suppressed anxiety, Tabasco sauce. There was mention of salt and some 'special secret paste'. Clearly, he thought the entreating, "eat" card would compel her to abandon common sense and dive right in....proving he is also entirely a normal 12 year old younger brother. I proved I am a normal mother by first sympathizing with Thing 1 at the frustration of younger brothers, and empathizing with her for the fact that he'd placed the last cracker temptation on her unmade bed and she'd not seen it, sat on it, and crushed it into her freshly washed, new set of flannel sheets. I then punctuated my normality as a mother by suggesting that, were the bed made, the cracker dust on new sheets would, sadly, not have been a consequence. Eyes rolled at me and we all took in the moment of savoring our normality in spite of ourselves.

Things I've learned....

2008-11-30T19:38:00.004-05:00

Usually, when I find that life is unusually rough and tumbly, I step back to take a longer look from a different angle. Not really. Let me start that over and be more honest. Usually, when I find that life is unusually sucky - I freak right out and try to run and hide. Then, when that doesn't work, I generally take a step back and look at the bigger picture from as many different angles as I can to try to find a bright spot, or just to learn what the Universe is trying to teach me and move forward. The last few months have been real eye openers, to be sure.

Firstly, I have learned what I already knew. I've learned that spinning can change your life. It can make you a better person, it can help you find refuge in a long storm, it can be done while grieving, crying, laughing, eating chocolate, or even after a few hard apple ciders on a cold night. You can wear hats. Different hats. You can change your name. You can be completely somber or silly as a bouncing clown. And still, you can spin. I've been doing a bit of that. Only, the fiber on the left, from my dear loving friend the Spindling Scot hasn't been spun yet. And, the lovely pumpkin juice at the top is a gift from David, who, if you don't already know - I adore. So, I have named the skein 'pumpkin' and continue to creep out my people by carrying pumpkin around and talking to him. The dark skein at the bottom is from our merino/corrie X sheep - a natural dark chocolate with excellent crimp and luscious spin love. The middle three skeins are a mix and match spin of the lovely and talented Amy of Spunky Eclectic. The colorway is 'estuary' and, trust me, the colors and the bfl combined are definitely on the euphoric side of spinning bliss. I plied it with the 'galaxy' series of dark bfl and will use the three of them, the other yarns, and the roving yet to be spun, in this lovely sweater for me (should the holiday knitting ever cease, that is).

While spinning these lovelies (with noted exceptions of someone else's lovely spinning and the obviously unspun roving), I've been learning. I've learned that I'm much stronger than I knew I was. I figured that out when I had to cut about 1/2 ounce off the bobbin because I was spinning with my mind on too many far away things and knotted up the bobbin in a manner that I cannot explain but was horrific and called to me to muster the most of my courage to not cry and hide under the covers. I learned about strength of other sorts, as well. And that strength, as it would be, came in handy. Isn't it tidy how life works out that way?

I learned that denial is a river and I vacation and picnic on it as frequently as possible (that's why I can fantasize about spinning sweaters and actually knitting them for myself when I am currently over my eyeballs trying to make a pair of Christmas/Yule socks and a sweater for each of the Things). It didn't help that November seemed to evaporate in an afternoon and December looms like a troll over me. What? You don't think I can do it? Shakes head at your obvious lack of belief in the power of the river of denial.

I learned that hope springs eternal until it suddenly doesn't - and, then, you have to learn how to go on without hope. Only after I trudged through the ugly muck of trying that for a while did I learn an easier and much better way. You can actually share your yearning for hope with others and, get this, they will GIVE you some of theirs. Ya'll are a veritable bank of hope and good feeling stuffs and the road has been much easier since I learned the hope sharing thing. Thanks with big hugs and nearly creepy slathering kisses....and please, do let me return the favor!

I learned that I am, and I know this is quite shocking to ya'll - a fartist (sadly, dictionary.com refuses to honor my creation and so the ACTUAL meaning of the term 'fartist' is a farmer-artist thingummie). Seriously, I had started to wonder for a while. I'd even started to think beyond the day when I'd be a fartist and tried to forget I was, even. And, I'm not the only one. There was a sufficient lack of hope for fartism abound here. Fortunately, I learned that, if you get lost, and you cannot find the way - sometimes you can just wander aimlessly around, learning and taking it all in and, all of the sudden, you'll find you're at home, again. Of course, that sort of journey generally changes you. As does spinning a shawl's worth of laceweight of this lovely 'fern' color -or, in this case, part of a shawl's worth - there are two additional skeins but, as they all look just like this one and have yet to be photographed, I beg you to trust me on the matter. 450 yds. for 3 ozs. of batts with greeny stuff and sparkles to boot......not such a bad journey after all, eh? The three will total over 1500 yds. I found, after wandering aimlessly for a bit and pretty near giving up hope, packing a little hobo bag on my back, and disappearing into the mists of a fartist-less life, that that part of me is forever, now - permanent, and something that, no matter how trying it gets, I cannot bear to change. I learned that about a few things, actually.

So, we picked ourselves up (which, by the way, ourselves has been expanded to include that cute kitty and a few others who had wandered away for a spell), dusted ourselves off, and proceeded to fart to our heart's content. Thanks for bearing with me during what I jokingly refer to as the 'recluse' months. Me thinks I'm back, now......though still subject to bouts of long swims in that denial river until the impending reality of my knitting limitations is impossible to escape. What did you expect? I changed a little- but only a little! LOL....

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Oh, on the salve. The 'parts' are by weight. So, 5 parts infused oil to 1 part beeswax would go like this: 5 ozs. oil to 1 oz. beeswax. You could most certainly use a pure beeswax candle in a pinch - ask me how I know! The beeswax makes the salve solid so, if you want a sturdier, less 'oozy' salve, add a little more beeswax. For a more spreadable, softy oozy batch, less beeswax. Play, have fun. You can't mess it up. IF you add too little beeswax, melt a bit more in a couple of tbsps. of oil Don't re-heat your whole batch too much or you'll destroy the properties of the essential oils. If you need to reheat it to add more beeswax, or, if it is too stiff and you want to add more oil to make is smoother, just add more essential oils because, you know, heat destroys their healing properties.

Spoonfuls of greasy, healing love!

2008-11-23T21:19:00.005-05:00

Heh - I thought I'd be here a couple of days ago. BRRR! It's been, uh, TOO cold here for the last few days - even for Maine! So, things (including me) move a little slower. I blame it on the lack of mobility caused by excessive layering. If you don't have a 9 year old in your house, then you may not be privileged with the goofy but hysterical things that 8-10 yr. olds say. Thing 3 is in all his glory of being the CUTEST LITTLE KID EVER! Lately, he's been saying the funniest things.

Thing 3 hates to be forced to stay indoors, no matter how bitter and nasty the weather. He finds excuse upon excuse to head down to the barn and feed the horse a carrot, take the chickens a piece of bread, or just sneak off to play for a while and claim he's doing a chore (smiles cuz we moms always really know what they're up to but play along with the foolery anyway because it's so fun for them). So, the other day, when the wind was howling and the cold was biting and I had convinced him that outside play for any length of time was simply out of the question, we had a talk about sensible dress for cold weather. I reminded him to layer and layer some more and he promised to only stay out for wee bits at a time and come in to warm up by the stove and have a cuppa hot chocolate. He kind of took the layering thing to an extreme and, later, whilst in for a 'warm up', was sporting a grand sweat and red face. I mentioned that the layering may have been a bit much and he replied, "yeah, must have been because I think I'm having a hot flash or something!" After I got up off the floor and stopped laughing hysterically I asked him if he knew what a hot flash was. Of course, he did not but realized after I explained it that he indeed was not experiencing a symptom of menopause and was, in fact, over dressed. I love this kid!

So, I was supposed to come here and talk about salves, and I will. First, I must introduce to you the object of my affections. You know, things have been a little rough so I did what any sensible woman would do. I baked alot, knit and spun alot, and catered to my desire for something to sit in my lap and purr (my big kitty thinks he's too old for that, now) and got myself a kitten. Well, I'm sharing her with everyone but Thing 3 and I are pinky wrestling over her nearly every day. Meet Tatiana - our little Maine Coon Cat. She's a terror, I tell ya - but you gotta love something this small that can have the entire house bent over laughing with her antics while confusing the dog and exhausting our older cat, Boulder, who has taken to mothering her and seems completely worn out by that awesome responsibility! He's all like, 'dang, I need a nap on my favorite stair and you bring me this crazy kid to train?' It's so funny. When she gets too out of hand he tackles her, gives her a thorough bath, and tricks her into falling asleep.

Now, onto the salve!

I've been making this salve for about as long as I've been using herbal remedies - around 13 years, now. Comfrey is a magical plant, if you didn't know. Culpepper raved about the bone healing virtues of this plant and, indeed, it's been called 'bone knit' in folk remedies because of it's ability to mend bones so quickly, it is as if they are knitted back together (you like it already, don't you?). I love it because it is so easy to grow. In fact, it is hard NOT to grow so, if you plant some, put it where you don't mind it stretching out it's legs a while. It does make an excellent soil conditioner but, should you get the bright idea to plant it right in your herb garden because you've read this, and two years later you are spending your whole summer pulling up baby comfrey plants 10 feet away until, exasperated, you give up and fence the pig into the garden to root out all the seedlings that are taking over, you will think twice before doing it, again. Just sayin'.

In my opinion, the knitting of bones is pretty spectacular. But, even more impressive is how this spiky leaf can knit skin. Seriously! My salve comes with a warning to NEVER, EVER put it on a deep cut. The reason is that comfrey proliferates the skin cells, which is a good thing mostly. Only, it is so devoted to making new skin cells and knitting them together that, for a really deep cut, the outer layer of skin can heal so quickly that the deeper wound is still underneath - causing infection and ouchy sorts of pain. We love the magic salve, here. I can't tell you how many times I've slathered it on a scraped knee that was the result of a bike mishap or a fall from the swing set, covered it with a cool band-aid and, by the next morning, just a faint piece of pink skin is where the boo boo was just the day before. For burns and chapped skin, ditto. Cold sores? Gone! If you're going to grow one herb and try to get the most practical used out of it - comfrey is a serious contender. I use the crushed, dried leaves for the ewes, too, if they are slow to heal from lambing.

The salve is super easy and, over time, I've added some 'special' ingredients of my own but you can just experiment and find what works for you. If you don't have comfrey, or can't grow your own herbs or, for those supplies that help you make your herbal goodness, I can't recommend Mountain Rose Herbs enough. I've been buying organic herbal care ingredients and other nedessities for years and I've always been impressed with the quality of their herbs, oils, and specialties. Here's my recipe

5 parts olive oil infused with fresh comfrey*
1 part beeswax
20 drops tea tree essential oil (it's a great antibacterial for cold sore, scrapes, etc. and cools burns like a peppermint would)
1 tbsp goldenseal root powder (again, an antibacterial/antifungal)

* to infuse the oil - place 2 cups dried or 4 cups fresh chopped comfrey in a pot with 5 cups of olive oil, warm, slowly, at low temp. for about an hour. Set overnight, strain the next day and - voila! You've got some magic comfrey oil!

Then, melt the beeswax in the comfrey oil on LOW HEAT. Remove from heat when the beeswax is completely dissolved. Add the tea tree oil and goldenseal powder and stir thoroughly. Then, pour into your favorite jar (baby food jars are excellent as are small jam or honey jars) and label - it's amazing how easily you'll forget what's in the jar so labeling really is a good idea.

This also works great on chapped lips and, without the goldenseal and tea tree oil and with a few drops of rose oil added instead, you'd have a great under eye and wrinkle cream.....this stuff makes your skin look great. If you don't want to make it, but would love to use it, I'll have a few jars listed in the shop for the Black Friday weekend sale next weekend.

Have fun....play hard - that's our motto here at Chez Kneebumps Don't Scare Us! How about some spinning and soap making next time, hmmmm???

Oh, hi, uhm.....awkward silence....

2008-11-20T14:10:00.004-05:00

You know how, sometimes, you run into someone that you've not talked to in a looooong time and you instantly realize that it was you who dropped the ball on the communicating and being a friend part and you suddenly break a sweat and feel like screaming out, "Oh, gawd, I hate myself!" but you don't and you just fumble for a minute before you come right out with it and apologize for being such a numb person and forgetting to remember the important people in your life?

I'm sorry I've been gone a while. Stuff has happened. It kinda keeps happening and I've been waiting for the 'right' time to figure out how to talk about it or decide if I can or want to. That was dumb and maybe selfish and, for those of you who expressed worry or concern, really wrong. I'm sorry.

So, here's the nutshell. Life is changing rapidly on the farm, and the whole concept of the farm is changing as well. Change can be slow and is sometimes an elusive and spiteful thing - showing you one face one time and then radically deviating from where your thought you were headed. So, as of now, I know little of how and when big changes will come. It would suffice to say that I'm alone rowing the boat save for the physical chores that I am helped with....and I don't mind it so much. It would also suffice to say that things have been sometimes rough, often sad, and a few times quite scary. I just keep picking myself up, hugging the Things and trying to get on with the day as best I can. And, when that doesn't work, I sit and knit and drink coffee and eat chocolate and cry after they've gone to bed.

SWWWWEEEEEEP!

Now that we've gotten that mess outta here, life will go on. So, to change things up again and (hopefully) indicate to the Universe that I am willing and sometimes capable of riding the waves of tumult, Look for a Friday post of a non-knitterly or spinnerly origin. Remember near a year ago when I said I'd show you how I make my super skin healing salve? Let's do that, and some soap (mmmmm...can you smell that from here?) and then commence to petting fiber and knitting away the hours until holiday knitting is over and lambing season begins!

On the long ride, I'd like to say, ya'll have been awesome to me. The emails and pm on ravelry have been lifesavers and huge pick me ups. I felt strong knowing that so many of you were humming along behind me - even if I was too pig headed and stubborn to come here and shed tears before you. I'm a sentimental fool and a bit ashamed when I can't hide my feelings which is just about never. Forgive me?

Behind the FO Parade rides the Karma Queen......

2008-11-02T16:49:00.003-05:00

Before I say a word, a flash of gratuitous handspun yarn pron is in order. Hmmmm...., we'll start with this little Austen Lace Muffler from the last issue of Crochet. It is soooo soft. I made the body out of one skein of the 50/50 merino/silk dk that I sell in the shop - hand-dyed in 'ravens'. It took about 1/2 skein for the body of the muffler and about 110 yards of handspun purple for the ruffles. So, with a skein of your handspun and a skein for the body - you could make two of these. I wish I had because this one is not for me and when I tried to reason with the cosmos on why it should be, my dear little mannequin got rough with me about it and refused to let me have it back! Note to self: next time, don't fill the gift knitting season with only gifts for others - it just isn't healthy to pine away for something soft on your neck while making oodles of scarves that will never be yours.

Then, there's this little scrap hat - made from some singles that I spun from bits of leftover roving here and there. Squishy, colorful, and a little funky. Of course it isn't mine. And, for the record, this little head mannequin had a wicked squinty-eyed stare that keeps me a little scared. It's creepy, I tell you. She was no less than brutal when modeling this little tam - an orgasmic mix of merino/cashmere/bamboo, silk and cotswold - a colorway I called, "gimme roses" because guess who is a sucker for a rose scent or a pretty rose to touch her nose? Soft, elegantly rose pink and nearly an inappropriate experience trying it on, also NOT FOR ME. Damn!

You might feel a little sorry for me, now, or hate me in five minutes - funny how life twists and turns that way, eh? The gimme roses hat was happy sitting alone but felt even prettier up next to this little scarf - a simple knit with crochet border from the Cotswold/silk yarn we had in the shop a while back. This batch was a double natural dye - one time in cochineal and then a dip in indigo to overwash. It was the first time I've ever experimented with teaching James how to dye and the irony is that it will likely be the last. That said, I still have a confession to make - I traitored on the hand knitters of the world.

A few months ago - wait, don't throw those oranges and rotten tomatoes at me - please!, I got drunk with the desire for sweaters. Sweaters for my chest, for my legs, for my feet. I wanted to be able to dress my entire family in woolly love and warmth (it may have something to do with the fact that last year we were pretty cold most of the winter). I started to calculate how much knitting I would need to do to just have one pair of long underwear, a sweater or two, and a few days of wool socks for everyone and I got really, uhm, depressed. Maybe in 10 years I could achieve that knitterly pace but, not today. Furthermore, I wanted to be able to save my hand-knitting for those unique and special things that cannot be done by machine. Yes, you heard it from me. I got onto the e-commerce sight of doom and bought myself a knitting machine. Oh, I dreamed. I dreamed of many sweaters by January. Of leg sweaters for all of us so we could play in the snow for even longer. I dreamed of knitting time where I could sit quietly, guiltless and contentedly working away on that special knitting, in full confidence that I'd done my job and outfitted everyone I loved against hypothermia with my magic knitting machine.

In my lust for easy knitting and warmth, I overlooked the obvious. A knitting machine is no different than any other facet of my fiber addiction. It must be met with total humility and an understanding that time, energy, and a heart full of woolly love will cultivate success. It pains me to admit that, in a couple of months, all I have managed to do was knit the body of this scarf, which I adorned with hand crochet work. I could have knit it by hand in less than a week. Go ahead, give me what I deserve (humbly hangs head in shame). Who knows, though, some day we may all be sporting long underwear and sweaters a plenty - or, you know, I could just have some major cabinets full of machine knit washcloths. What WAS I thinking?

It's like riding a bike.....

2008-10-27T12:58:00.004-04:00

My horoscope for October said many things and most of them I am still scratching my head about. Like, the part about being magnetically attractive all month. Hmmm.....I turned around in my cape to see if the inner Wonder Woman was just going to burst out, boobs and all with a 28 inch waist but, alas, it didn't come to be. And, there were other things like the mention that I'd finally be able to take some time to collect my energy. Was the fact that I'd have to stop sleeping and find a way to not need bathroom breaks in the fine print? LOl! Phewy! It's just still kind of not so happy times on the farm. It happens more than most farmers would mention but, you know me, all gloomy and such so I would!

One gem of advice did lay in the ole stars and predictions - the advice to get out more and have some fun. Gloomy people, surprisingly, only become more gloomy and crusty the less they have fun. I seem to remember knowing that but, as you know, knowing something and acting on that knowledge can sometimes be worlds apart. Sometimes, you just know it and carry it around like a hump on your back. So, fun was advised and, very shortly after, I heard tell of a spin-in at Spunky Eclectic. It was a rough morning and I thought I might not even go because I was looking everywhere for my smile and it was just hiding somewhere, I'm sure of it. Still, crazed as I felt from it all, I packed up the wheel and headed down. I'm so glad I did. Firstly, because I lurve Boogie. Every time I get a chance to visit with her, I just wish I had the chance more often. I think I want to be like her when I grow up. I scored some 'Galaxy' bfl and some 'estuary' bfl from her. They spoke to me a little on the way home and they really want to stay together forever in a project. And, you know, I'm a sucker for true love so I agreed.

My favorite part of the day was also the second reason why I'm so glad I did go. I would have cried big ole crocodile tears if I'd missed a rare chance to sit and spin and laugh with David. There are some people in this world that, when they smile at you or hug you, or, in this case, bring you some of their treasured handspun Pumpkin Juice yarn and chocolate - they just make you feel like the happiest person alive. David is like that. I miss him already. And, no, it's not just because of the chocolate and yarn love! I just hope I didn't creep him out by coming back for hugs over and over again. I do have that natural talent, you know, for creeping people out. I'm choosing, with age and exhaustion, to look at it as a sort of 'yet to ripen to its true purpose' gift. Perhaps, someday, all the world will need is one harmlessly creepy woman and, with her help, all will be set right and whole. It's not the Wonder Woman gig, but, I guess it will have to do.

True to form, I just plopped down to spin and started talking to everyone in the room like I know them so, of course, I had a great time and met some fascinating people but don't know their names. It is the only antidote I know to the nervous reaction that I'd otherwise have of thinking far too much about what to say, what not to say, hoping the nervous ticks didn't show up, and trying not to tell a story that was totally inappropriate. Let's edit that, shall we - to try not to tell too many stories that were inappropriate. I think a few slipped out anyway. This learning how to have fun, again, thing can be tricky at times, non? I mean, riding a bike is just, well, balance, pedaling and, for the less inclined to adventure, the ability to look ahead of you.

In other news, uh....let's not talk about the news. I do have to acknowledge, though, that I've fallen behind on the Great Giveaway. Hmmm. I don't want to stop it but I think I've just lost my ability to feel really creative in it. So, I think we'll change it. Let's do it every other month - make it a more expansive 'give away', and allow me to just come up with a surprise package. Silly, I know, but I think the task of assigning the prize is kind of depleting the fun of being a 'giver' and a 'receiver' - I think adding a little surprise back into it will be just the trick. This month's give away goes to Becky - hope you love it! The next Great Giveaway will be Dec. 1st.

So, I'm off to spin and, hopefully, become human, again. After about thirty to forty five minutes of that, I will be transformed into a Halloween costume making goddess that has 9 arms (4 sets to get everything done and one to carry the cup of coffee) and, even when the machine jams, she smashes her fingers in the foot, or the yarn just disappears into the abyss - she doesn't flinch, groan, or otherwise foam at the mouth. If I pull that off, I'm having a pumpkin beer and sitting around in my flashy cape whilst knitting until I fall asleep!