Socks Matter

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!

How does your garden grow?

“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......

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

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!

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.

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

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!

Town Mouse, Country Mouse

A few weeks ago, I was chatting with a town mouse and she just casually mentioned the current state of things in our world. Hmmm, I never really know how to react to these sorts of conversations. See, there are times when someone really wants to interact with you and understand your perspective and then there are those times when someone doesn't REALLY want to know what you think, but they want to talk about it anyway. I sort of suck at 'divining' which time is which and generally fall back on just being totally honest about what I think. For those of you who don't know, this isn't necessarily in the handbook of 'How to Win Friends and Influence People' - if such a handbook exists. Even though I despise conflict - have an actual panic reaction to it, to be quite honest - this 'tell 'em what you really think' method is almost a sure-fired way to ensure some conflict is lurking around the corner somewhere.

You can judge someone about something they say - and convince yourself that they are totally open-minded, and then they can floor you by saying something totally crass or intolerant. Even worse, you can find yourself saying something totally crass or intolerant. There's no clean way to slice it - this thinking and communicating your thoughts and understanding of things is risky business.

So, Town Mouse and I are talking about tough times, economic strain (which, incidentally, has now surpassed strain and rolled right into oppressive paranoid suffering) and the challenges of the year. At one point, she began to talk about how much 'easier' it was for us here on the homestead, how much simpler our life was than her stressful town life. Of course, my first reflex was to get my hackles up a bit. I wanted to ask her how easy it is to haul your own water - to be entirely dependent on your own ability to farm, make a marketable product from your farm, and to try to be as self-sufficient as possible. When she casually proclaimed that ALL we have to do is cut wood and we're assured we won't freeze, I nearly passed out. All? My inner debater was shouting, ' how many cords of wood have you cut, split,and hauled across rocky ground to your house?' but I didn't.

I didn't because of many reasons but it really boils down to this:
1. I think it is safe to say that we are all on the precipice of losing SOMETHING due to the current economic situation and be it outrageously priced heating oil or at least 15 more days of working on wood hauling most of the day before we will be able to breathe a sigh of relief and feel something close to optimism for our own survival - there is no easier way for anyone.
2. I revert back to one of the books I read from both sides of the rural route to my kids over the years, Jan Brett's "Town Mouse, Country Mouse". You know that one, don't you? The one where the Town Mouse thinks the Country Mouse has the perfect life and the Country Mouse thinks the Town Mouse has the easy life and they switch and find that they'd failed to realize that BOTH lifestyles had their challenges - yeah, that one. This person meant no harm - she just needed to think for a while that this life, our life, would be so much easier than hers. I didn't feel it necessary to burst her bubble just to prove a point. I could have mentioned 6$ a bale hay for our herd and horse, I might have mentioned that gas prices are hard on us, too. I forgot to even think about talking about the price of food in rural communities.

So, Town Mice, Country Mice, it is with great respect for the strain that we are all under that I come before you to deliver what I feel is sort of a betrayal of the knitterly, kindredly, and kindly spirit. Please do not kill the messenger, though I know the message could produce fury within you as I found myself growling out loud when I finally decided that I could put this off no longer waiting for some 'good news' with which to herald it in behind. It comes to this, we have to talk.

I know some knitters have been able to remove themselves from the guilt and stress that is known as Holiday Knitting. It may be within your power or budget to just go and buy a gift for someone rather than sacrificing your precious knitting time (spinning also included and crochet while we're at it) making something for someone whom you cannot be sure will appropriately bestow your project with love, admiration, and gratitude. I wish I was there. But, as the rule in my house is pretty much that - if you want a present, it has to be something we can make, and as I do not find myself with such budget surpluses that I can fling my dollars out on the counter for gifts, and because my immediate family is comprised of a pack of freaky wool lovers who would take a handmade sweater any day over a 'fad' toy, I am, basically, OBLIGATED.

Psst, we're 2 months away. I know, I know, it doesn't seem that way. Okay, I am lying to you - we are 84 days away. Technically, that is 2 3/4 months but if Santa's own 'Official Elves' can get away with such 'fabrications of the truth', then so can I, non? But, consider this, it will maybe take you a couple of weeks to arrange your time, plan your projects, and, finally, get started on your holiday knitting. As proof that I am not the wormtongue of the knitting world, dealing us all to our doom for my own sick pleasure, I present the proof that I am merely a 'vehicle' that this information is being funneled through. I think the usual deliverers of such news like the dept. stores and retail outlets are avoiding saying so just yet in hopes that Santa's bells will not sound too much like the clang of the Wall Street alarms. I, perfectly displaying the propensity you might have to 'forget' this inevitable void that we will be sucked into wherein a pair of socks for 'A' and a scarf for 'B' and a bed for the family dog will worm their way into your holiday lovin' heart and you will be knitting with your eyes crossed into the wee hours of December, have totally de-railed myself from the reality train by working on two shawls at the same time - for me. It would seem that I am addicted to the November shame of 'gotta do nothin' but holiday knitting, stop sleeping, and try to eat only once a day to ensure I get it all done'. Part of curing the sickness is recognizing the hold it has on you, right?

By now, you know where this is going. It being the first of the month, and time for us to announce another Great Giveaway, and it being obvious that there are approximately 2.75 months or 80something days until we must slap our wares on the table, wrapped or not, and hold our breath to see how it will be received. If you're not making any handmade holiday gifts - I just want to know more about you. If you are, tell us about it( though you don't have to mention names) and, if you're really interested in playing to my voyeuristic tendencies, what's the favoritest (grammar, schmammar!)handmade gift you've ever received? Post it here in the comments and I'll draw a winner around the middle of the month. Winner will receive a skein of organic cotton and a bar of handmade soap - either for yourself or you can re-gift it and have just one holiday thought taken care of.

I have a green ole Grinch deep down in my soul and there may be some times between now and the holidays that I will say not so nice things about the whole shebang. But, for now, I'm trying to look optimistically at the space between here and there. I get all caught up in the season, for sure. I love the idea of giving, and I guess you probably already know about my affection for good food, and a good time. So, the holiday bashing and threats to Santa will have to wait. Here, I'll start:
What I'm going to make - this list includes a plethora of ridiculous notions I have that I can knit 3 sweaters, 4 pairs of socks, 3 pet beds, 6 hats, 3 shawls and a multitude of other things that I have yet to dream up in 2.75 months. Laugh, it makes it feel better when everyone else is laughing at you.
My favorite handmade gift of all time: My favorite things to have made for me generally come from my kids - be it a card, funny picture, or something made of play-dough that looks like an abstract rendition of the solar system.

You might want to join our group on Ravelry - we'll be throwing around ideas for handmade, high quality gifties, there - and I'll be blabbing about it on the blog from time to time and posting more free patterns. For now, though, I'm going to start with this Jane Austen Cowl from Interweave Crochet Magazine. I should say a great thank you, right here, to Michelle Wiener for writing so beautifully about our little humble homestead here in Maine. We were thrilled with her article, "Where Yarn Comes From - and where it might lead" in the Fall 2008 issue. Thanks, Michelle!

The Austen Lace Muffler I will make may seem much more 'morose' than the pink, soft and feminine one in the magazine. What can I say? In my life, I've been and English major, a journalist, a crisis counselor, and an elementary school teacher. I am now a farmer and fartist. Have I not already substantiated my inclination toward the depressive AND the absurd? I'll be using this hand-dyed ('raven' colorway) 50/50 merino silk dk wgt yarn for the 'on your neck' part and I'll work the ruffle with this handspun skein of a combo of our cotswold/silk batt combos. Whose to say Ms. Austen didn't have a perverse dark side? LOL....

In praise of coffee and sunshine.....

Wow! Is about all I can say in regards to the sunshine bit. This weekend was a perfect blend of chilly fall breezes and bright sunny days - perfect fair going weather as it gave everyone an excuse to sport their knitted wares and generally think loving thoughts about yarn, root crops, wool, warmth, and that comfort in knowing and learning more about how to live sustainably and more independently. So, the fair was much fun and inspiration - as it always is for our family. It's the place we go to to remind ourselves that we aren't soooo freakish that there aren't thousands of people like us, or in a way different but with a mingling sort of life spirit that makes us still feel very much in common with one another. It's the realm that we can talk about things like compost, solar panels, battery banks and the cats who love to disconnect wires from them just to mess with our heads. A place where a sheep chase is a story you share while laughing with other small farmers about the insanity of what it is we have chosen to mold our lives around. We walk away from it brimming with ideas and enthusiasm and, for at least a few days to a few weeks, we begin to think that we're not so wacky after all. Fortunately, there's no chance in us getting swollen heads or rampant ego action about it because winter's right around the corner and when she smacks us with her paws of reality - we pretty much remember that we're mildly insane to design our lives in such a complex and guaranteed to be challenging way (wink). Things 1,2, and 3 and I wanted to do one exhibit together in the exhibition hall this year - as last year was a total mom meltdown challenge with each Thing picking a different medium to work in and all needing some help. This year, we got out our Jan Messant book and made a little sheep in the meadow display - complete with a pond that thing 1 crocheted and some goldfish to swim in it. Everyone worked together on it and, if you've read the previous post, you know that hubster sacrificed a fingertip for it as well so that made it a truly family project. We won 2nd place and all are thrilled to have our sheep back at home, safe and sound - because even knitted sheep need protecting.

The coffee bit is a tribute to my serious caffeine deficiency suffered over the weekend. See, this is where the barbed tail of my utter love and support of the Common Ground Fair is really tested. While I cherish their goal to have the agricultural products shown and sold at the fair come from ACTUAL local farmers and be true Maine products, as well as supporting them in trying to attract good, organic, local food for their food alley - coffee is a sticking point - as we cannot grow it in Maine so....urrr, we can not haz it at the fair (meows loudly and sucks on paw while crying)! So, after I realized that I did not have a brick on my head this morning, I began gulping jugs full of the heavenly brown elixir - organic, still, of course and I am finally starting to feel as though I could possibly form a complete sentence. Please, oh please, oh please, may someone soon develop a coffee plant that can survive Maine winters.....

A real highlight to the fair was hooking up with Loribird of From The Wool Room. We meandered over to the fleece tent whereupon I discovered my inner snob. Honestly, I am not a 'fussy' sort of person. If you could see my kitchen and living room right now, you'd know just how true this is. But, geez, take me into a tent of fleeces and I will pick through them finding something wrong with half of them. It was an enlightening experience for sure. I'm so glad it happened with Lori, though, because if anyone is gracious enough to overlook my obvious tendency to be a total grease fleece snob, it would be her. I take the evidence of the yummy maple sugar heart that she left at the booth for me later in the day when she came by and I wasn't there to be proof that this is so. I lurved her for it.....because it really completed the sort of inappropriately sensual experience I had with my cup of strong, black, steaming coffee with morning.

I also got to visit with so many blog readers, wool lovers and generally fascinating people I am fortunate to call friends that I cannot even begin to list them all - still, I can't not say - hey, it was great to see ya'll and laugh, spin, chat string/life/the way of things! I loved seeing Karen and Sharon of Autumn Hollow Farm as I do every year. What a couple of talented people they are. The first time I held a pair of their knitting needles I knew I would have to have a set all of them. They make them by hand on a lathe and finish with a flair that is indescribable - a combination of gemstone, beautiful beads, silver, ahhh! - they are the penultimate experience of beautiful needles! I've been fortunate enough to make a pair mine this year and I can honestly say that NO ONE else has been allowed to touch them. Hear me say this because I know ya'll are used to me sharing my things and generally encouraging people to touch things but you don't want to be caught touching these - they are guarded by beasts that would make the Eye of Sauron seem like a carousel pony! Malachite in silver on a Cocobolo wood. Size 7's and, did I mention, MINE!

Oh, it was such fun! And just what we needed to boost our spirits and give us that extra energy to get the winter preparations on the farm under way. Then, surprise of surprises, I came home to this lovely card and cowl. My dear friend, Anne, who is such an inspiration to me as a knitter and a dyer - had asked me a while back (did I mention one of her virtues beyond being inspiring is that she is also one of the most kind and patient people I've ever known?) to make a larger skein of some lace yarn I'd sent her in a 'new' colorway I was working on. Well, I finally got it in the shop and it is on it's way or in the warm knitting palms of Anne at this very moment. So, because kindness weighs heavily in the virtues of my super knitter friend - she sent the cowl she'd made of the first yarn to me - yeah, to me? I mean, how lucky can you be as a person to have friends who inspire you, encourage you, support your farm and lifestyle, and then make you cool stuff like this cowl that Kitty is wearing at the moment but will be warming my neck when I run errands in town later today? That is a fortune I hope to never lose - the richness of knowing so many awesome people. Thank you, Anne. You made me smile, and cry, and smile again - you are truly awesome!

Carol won the Great Giveaway so I'll be passing on these vibes of fiber loving strength and caring to her in the form of a skein of yarn spun just for her! Congrats, Carol!

Fertile Myrtle

For the last few years, we've been honored to have a very special hen. Well, that's not entirely true. Around August/September we feel honored to have her. The rest of the year? We all try to avoid her! The rest of the year, she pecks and hisses when you try to collect eggs.

Broody is so named because she has defied modern intervention and husbandry by establishing herself as the brood hen every year. Brood hens are rare, most breeds having been so bred apart from those instincts that is is totally something to celebrate when a hen takes back her mother role and refuses to let a hatchery take credit for the monumental task of bringing up smart chicks. And, her chicks ARE smarter. Unlike when we've bought day old chicks from the hatcheries at our local feed store, these chicks need no special care. No heat lamps, no medicated chick feed, just Broody and her sharp, pointy beak to keep all right and proper in the world. Her chicks learn to scratch for food hours after they are hatched. Here she is, showing them that there are excellent opportunities for bugs and grass and seed under the wood pile. In no time, they learn to scratch the small bits of bark back and delve into the ants and beetles beneath.

After that, (one thing I've noticed is a natural hatched chick gets LOTS of exercise, their moms taking them all over the farm before, like a wise mother, having worn them out and takes them back to the safe barn for a night of roosting) there is a need for shade. And, for bugs, shade, and general fun - the squash leaves are a real thrill. Don't they look like they're having fun?

Last year, Broody hatched a clutch of chicks. We were excited to see that her hatchling, Hedwig (who, we might add, has her mother's temperament and was formerly called 'barfy' by the Things until I forced them to find a more appreciative name. One cannot allow a woman with her own mind - and really sharp beak - to be dissed in such a way) set a clutch of eggs this year as well. It would seem that Hedwig's first attempt didn't turn out a smashing success as the eggs have not hatched. Still, it took Broody a year or so to get it right so I think there's hope for Hedwig after all. And, because I am so partial to the overall health and intellect of the hen hatched clutches - I am all about trying to help these mamas be the beaky, opinionated women that their natural instincts are compelling them to be.

In other news, we are all recovering from the nasty little cold that seemed to descend upon our domain with a vengeance last week! In that time, there has been a bit of spinning done - this one being my personal pet. 'She sells sea shells' batts that were out last week and the week before. I got 420 yards of fingering wgt from the four ounce set, plenty to make socks but, then the mind starts playing trickses with me and saying, 'yeah, but one more skein like that and you'd have a great shoulder shawl'. Clearly, I am out to deceive AND torture myself.

Tomorrow be the first of the month and I will be celebrating it by doing some special dyeing of some Cotswold/mix yarn I had spun up at Stonehedge Fiber Mill. I can't say enough about this mill....the yarn was spun spectacularly and I will send my wool to them again and again! But, being the first of the month, that calls for a new Great Giveaway. This time around, I'll be giving away a skein of single spun handspun yarn. To be entered into the pool of randomly drawn people, you just need to leave a comment in the comments of this post. Winner is announced in the middle of the month. Oh, and the comment? I'm all sweater lust these days....but I have to wait until the Common Ground Fair is over to start on a project of that stature (three weeks to go!). So, what about you? What sweater pattern has you organizing the stash, searching for needles, and generally living for an afternoon of uninterrupted knitting?

And now for the funny part - there is a funny part, right?

That would pretty much sum up the last two weeks. At first, when so many things started to go wrong at once, I entertained myself by imagining a candid camera scene in which some guy in a plaid wool suit would jump jubilantly out of a closet and tell me to smile because it was all a funny joke. I must have been so busy giggling that I failed to realize we live in a house that we are building as we go and, duh! - we have no closets. Closets are something you build when you're done shuffling rooms around for each 'phase' of completion to begin. I don't know where the plaid wool suit comes in but I suspect that it is my repressed sinister nature wanting all men to suffer.

Clearly, I was so staunchly in denial that when I pinched my sciatic nerve, I truly believed that if I just kept on going, it would eventually heal. Because, you know, the way to calm a spasming nerve is surely to abuse it into submission. Actually, I can't take credit for this one. I know my self and knew better. I was just being proud. As is the tradition in this house, the formula we work from is Mom has way too many things to get done +getting a kid ready for a week away from home+she's in pain and wincing with every move= the other adult in the house decides to approach everything with cold calculation and inspire his overburdened partner to her greatness by reminding her to do her duty, or work through it, or some other such nonsense that, if said partner even had a scratch in his throat, would be received - should the same thing ever be said to him - with utter insult. Apparently, that wasn't thought of. Nor was the act of actually HELPING but we just won't go there.

So, I kept on keeping on and - guess who's still in pain? It is getting better, though. The good news is that sometimes I get so distracted that I simply forget to 'check' myself and make sure I'm living for health. So, there has been much in the way of reforming the nutrition (or lack of), thinking in the herbal ways again (which I sort of lost track of this last year), and generally working toward a healthier self. You know me - dump a truckload of lemons in my yard and, after I've delighted in the terrific smell of citrus - I'll set right to making buckets of lemonade!

There is one funny part to this week and that would be my last blog post. This is what I said I signed up for in the Ravelympics:

8 ozs. handspun in a natural gray corriedale X and cotswold X
8 ozs. handspun in white cotswold (which I will dye with plant dyes in the coming weeks - blog fodder alert!)
1 first year sheep puppet
1 fairy godmother sheep puppet
1 scawl of handspun pumpkin juice for the wip wrestling - less than 1/2 of it left to finish
oh, and the Philosopher's house socks.

However, a quick jaunt through my projects folder quickly revealed that, I left out 1 set of BMW batts and 4 ozs. of Esmaralda to spin up. Just for the record, I was sort of delusional by the time I added those and maybe also a little desperate to work with some other spinning fiber than white and gray. Still, a promise is a promise so I've gotten to work.

The socks are finished and I will refrain from judging them because, as you have probably realized by now, I am a bit cranky. Also, though, because I think I will try another pattern from this book before I say more. This one, well, it just doesn't work for me. But, I'm not really into short socks anyway so I should have known better. My greed and lust to make socks out of dk wgt yarn was instrumental in my completely ignoring the obvious- like that a heel flap is essential for my weirdo lusty calves on top of skinny ole freaky ankles. They're done and we move on...work through it, so to speak. There is one puppet and a friend in the works. See him? Awww, he's so sweet!

Around him are the 2 sets of 8 ozs each (totaling a lb) of handspun gray plus 2 (4 oz) sks. of handspun white. I found the missing needle to finish my scawl under the bed today so that is in progress and I'll be spinning in color tonight. So, foolishly optimistic or just plain blind fool, I'm still working toward the finish line.

So, other than that, the only thing slightly funny (and I suspect more so for others than for myself) was my attempt to pull off getting Thing 1 to camp 'without any stress'. Yes, if you must know, in private I like to dress up as Wonder Woman and pretend I can save the world. As you all know, directions and times are sort of a challenge for me. Certainly, I can read a map and tell time - it's more the concept of them that is puzzling. Thing 1 and I are in a most fun time wherein she gets to go on alot of show travels with me and we are finding we travel together very well. That is fortunate, as I hope to spend much time with her in the coming years. The unfortunate would be that we are discovering she has the same inability to conceptualize space/direction/etc. No problem, we are rule followers and, unlike OTHER people in our house, we trust in maps.

So, determined to not make her late, which, let's face it, is very stressful, we left 2 hours early, maps in hand, and headed confidently out for our many hours drive. Oh, things went so well! We cleared the 'within 50 miles of your destination' mark in no time. With nearly 2 hrs. to spare and our bellies growling for lunch, we pulled over and had some lunch. Deciding we had so much extra time and not wanting to be 'dorky' and show up too early, we decided on a little walk after lunch to loosen up my back a little. If you don't know, and I hope you don't, driving a car with no cruise control for hours with a pinched sciatic nerve is...well..... really effing NOT FUN! We ate, we walked....we had no stress. Our map proved well for us and all was funny clowns and laughter. We got back in the car, ready to make the last 1 hr. stretch of the drive - and that's when a torrential downpour began. At one point, I had to pull over because the windshield wipers were working their darndest and we still couldn't see a thing. We waited. It didn't let up. So, I finally concluded that we'd try again. Now, we were driving much slower than before, plus the time sitting there going WTF? and stuff - so we were no longer enjoying a leisure of spare time. I got another 10 miles before hail - and I mean lots o'hail came pouring down. Cars were either pulling over or Nature was whopping them off the road so we gave in and sat it out like good little girls. We showed up 40 mins. late. That's the funny part!

Now that I'm done swimming in the pool of pity - I haven't forgotten about the Great Giveaway. So, I did what I always do. In respect of my technological savvy, I wrote down every one's names and drew one randomly from a bowl - harmonyfb gets over 200 grms of match and contrast sock yarns! Ah, the yarn love works to make me smile every time!

In which there is an excuse for gorging on cake......

Nine years ago I was surprised and giving birth. I mean, not surprised because, after being pregnant a few times already - I was certainly aware it was imminent. Just so you know because I realize that the peek into the crystal murky waters of my mind that you get on the blog, here, MIGHT have led you to doubt my intelligence and/or sanity and believe I didn't know how it happened. No, I was surprised because the event was startlingly early. Not that it doesn't happen in the common human world or anything but, ya'll, this was MY world - you know, where everything goes just the way it's supposed to - or should, anyway. Where the lessons you've learned equip you to deal more heroically with the challenges that are before you. Where, having learned those lessons sort of protects you, in an optimistic sense, from continuing to screw your life up or, worse, to do so to your kid's lives. It was at that moment that all the confidence, possibly bordering on arrogance, and VA-voom that my parenting experience had imbued me with through the mothering of Things 1&2 were revealed for what they truly were. Lessons that would teach me much but be fruitless in preparing me for 'knowing' anything about something so mysterious and unique as a human life. No matter how many times you do the parenting gig, it will be different, amazing, and a thorough mental workout EVERY TIME. Silly me, I thought I had a tool case of useful expertise. Please excuse the well-worn wallet pic - this was before we had nifty scanning/photo preserving munchkins hidden in the computer.

When he weighed in at 24 lbs. at 3 mos. of age, I was so proud. I had used my expertise and careful watch on nutrition for myself and him to bring him from under 6 lbs. to a stout, bubbling baby in no time. By the time he was 7 months old and crawling up and down stairs and trying to walk, I began to realize that this was not the working of any expertise, but more of a natural wonder that would continue to challenge and confound me as I tackled the awesome task of communicating with someone who was faster and more agile than I but who could only blow raspberries at me, say 'no, no, no' and cry loudly. Around that time, he discovered electrical outlets. Neither of my other two Things seemed to ever care what was under the kitchen sink, who lived in the mysterious outlets, or how fast they could run down the road after the tractors working potato harvest to try to catch them - ON THE ROAD! No problem, I had parenting books and friends on my side - I went right into town and got some nifty plastic protectors and installed them all while he was asleep, smiling to myself that his outlet exploring days were over. The next morning, when he went to his favorite outlet and found it blocked, he waddled into the kitchen, pushed a chair up to the silverware drawer, got out a butter knife, waddled back to his favorite plug, and proceeded to attempt to pry out the offending plastic cover. I may have counted the days on that afternoon until he stopped nursing so I could have beer in my life, again.

At one, I put up the first baby gate I'd every used (Things 1 and 2 were awful children, don't you think, leading me to believe this would be easy and failing to train me up properly for the task?) because he took to crawling up the stair railing and 'see-saw'ing on the top rail (my billionth heart attack). I heard him wake from his nap, whimper, and then the characteristic 'thud' of his little feet hit the floor and started running. I met him at the gate to let him through but he put his little chubby baby hand up shouting, "no, no, no" so I stopped just for a FEW SECONDS which was long enough for him to reach his arm over the gate, flip the latch, and swing it open while clapping for himself and smiling a mile wide. He weaned himself the following week for some potatoes with cheese on the coffee table and I can't say I wasn't grateful.

So this has been the theme of our little dance together - an astonishing tale of a little boy who, when born with a head full of long, shiny black hair that put Mr. Potter to shame stumbled and bumped to get into the world and has been boldly trudging on since. I get tired just watching it. Always full of laughs and that Leo-esque charm that makes it impossible to keep a straight face when you should be acting like the mom but find yourself laughing hysterically. Like when, upon hearing that his sister couldn't get the beads she wanted at the craft store because two very rude women were sprawled out into the aisle and refused to move their cart for a little girl (and fresh off the experience of becoming Lord of the Rings and, as such, Orc enthusiasts), he ducked his little head down and said, 'I'll see to this..." I left my cart and everything to chase after him but, ya'll, he's really fast! I found him, just turning the corner into the aisle, myself, or heard him, more like it. Seems he transformed himself in the Orc Warlord and trudged up to the women with his imaginary spear gruffy shouting, "Fall in line, you maggots, NOW! Fall in Line!".

I should have acted surprised but their horror and,yet, total obedience to him as they fell in line and moved their carts over so his older sister could get to the beads was....poetic....and hysterical.....and priceless. I've found that my version of 'acting like a mom' rarely means anything other than loving this experience for all it's worth and remembering that, though my chance victories and accomplishments may delude me into thinking otherwise at times, I know nothing!

Happy Birthday, Kid!

As it would happen, this is also the beginning of the month so that means it's time to start another Great Giveaway. Bet you thought I was gonna give you something easy like, 'wish my kid happy birthday and you're in the drawing'? Heh....you know me too well. This month we'll be giving away something of the sock yarn variety - a grab bag of mini-skeins in random colors, shall we? To honor the chaos, comedy, and general bag of who-knows-what that this 'Mama' adventure embodies?

Over my fear of the finger!.

I've been afraid of the finger for too long. Seriously. Back when I was still wetting my feet at the whole knitting gig, one of the things I dreamed of making in vast quantities - every color imaginable, and comfortable as all get out was gloves. I despise having cold hands. Also, living on a farm AND having children has greatly increased the number of times I've had to touch something icky with a bare hand that made me long for many pairs of washable gloves. So, you know I tried it, doncha? Unfortunately, I had yet to be tamed by the rash gauge master. Sadly, I used some coveted handspun that was oober soft and luscious but not exactly an enduring grade of fiber for being worn on some busy and earthy farmer hands. They wore out in no time and I was so scarred by the experience of trying to understand the whole 'knitting fingers' concept, that I just wiped that old desire from my mind and adopted a fingerless mitt under big-arsed mittens approach. Still, that's alot of fumbling between mitt and mitten to have fingers to twist fencing back together before your knuckles freeze, or some other crazy thing like that. But, at this point and for years after that - I'd do just about anything to avoid the dreaded finger.

After my camping sock knitting bonanza, I needed to move back to something more home grown. Something about pulling weeds in the garden, getting back into the groove of the farm, and whimpering when I walked for two days after sleeping on the ground (I've resisted the air mattress camping leisure for so long it has really just come down to stubbornness at this point - I see it as a mark that, once crossed, will make me a sort of weakened camper. I see the logic is warped but have no intention of changing so just humor me and I won't whine about it again, honest) made me long for handspun. So, I pulled out the 'pumpkin juice' yarn that I'd made. You remember that, don't you? I sort of added two stripes to the mix, one in a spring green and one in a brown - though I plied that with a full bobbin of just pumpkin juice to produce a tweedy sort of color shift. I find that works well when you're not aiming to be exact in your striping but more 'eyeing' it.

I was all set to knit the mittens I'd intended but changed my mind, literally, at the last moment. No pattern to guide me and just a stroke of 'aha - that must be how the fingers are made' and, before I knew it, I was making so many fingers I had to stop myself because, after all, these gloves are for my darling child, not for the six-fingered man. Since the striping would be a little 'off' with finger knitting as opposed to mittens, I decided to just let the pool effect that would result stay wild and 'organic' - so the hands don't exactly match but that is all the better because, as you may know, there is no humiliation like having serious or matching accessories when you are 15, that time of life being intentionally themed around finding out just how unique one can manage to be and remain in the confines of what your mother will allow you to be seen in public wearing.

With that finger fear behind me, I looked forward to the week ahead with a sort of confidence that makes me so grateful to be a spinner and knitter. It's like having a little blast of feel-good energy in your pocket that you can take out when you need to be reminded of your ability to actually accomplish something. Then, to my big, goofy wide smile surprise (that would be my goofy smiling), Michelle at Greenwoman honored me by giving me the "Arte y Pico” award. I'll just steal her quote about it as I don't think I could say it any better: The “Arte y Pico” award was created to be given to bloggers who inspire others with their creative energy and their talents, whether it be writing or artwork in all medias. When you receive this award it is considered a “special honor”. Those who receive it are then supposed to choose at least 5 other blogs to honor with the award.

Like, WOW! Thanks so much, Greenwoman! I, too, feel squeezed to come up with only five blogs for my award giving but here I go:

Loribird is not only a super spinner and knitter but quite the fiber and culinary artist. In fact, this dear woman just exudes the beauty of things made with gifted hands. Which makes me kinda nervous, as she's the winner of this month's Great Giveaway so I have to create a magic ball worthy of such talent (see me sweating?).

Judy (aka the Spindling Scot) is beyond awesome, combining a true gift for spotting beauty in nature and it's gifts be they wood, stone, gems, fiber, and plants, as well as practically enchanting everything she makes with such a good, positive feeling that one can't be blamed if they become so attached to a diz that she made that anyone in her home found touching it is hissed at and scratched (uht, oh! must remember to work on being more human and less feline). I love many things about Judy so it is hard to stick just to the art award theme but in that regard, one of my favorite things about knowing and being loved by such a friend is that just when I'm ready to dig in my roots and stay in the same place (which doesn't leave much room to grow), Judy will do something that shakes me awake and reminds me to branch out as well to become a strong, old oak. Thanks, Judy!

Lorraine is a knitter/mum/woman that I wish to some day emulate. Firstly, the fact that this woman is living amongst teenagers and still has the mental fortitude to knit such beautiful lace (which requires counting and thinking and other brain functions that I am finding tend to be practically evaporated after refereeing one or two bouts of "mom, (insert the complaint of the day about fellow sibling who is also struggling through the teen years)". How she manages to create these beauties is mind-boggling to me....note to self - must.have.Guinevere!

Aija is such a fun spinner to follow! It seems we're always interested in similar things. In addition to being an oober talented fiber artist and making such gorgeous gemstone markers and accessories, she is a sort of singing voice of all things indie and artfully exciting with her 'etsy Friday' posts.

There's a new issue of Anticraft up - doncha know? I absolutely love this online magazine. It makes me laugh, sometimes it makes me blush (yes, I am still the blushing sort) and sometimes it makes me raise an eyebrow wide and look like a crusty ole dork.

In other news, I've been cussing at my sewing machine sewing some as well. You might recognize this fabric from the dress I made for Thing 1 - I had some extra left over and threw this skirt together because I needed to exercise some aggression. Why do I think I sew? I mean, I've watched sewing shows on PBS and have been around relatives that sew most of my life. None of them, save my grandma and she'd probably smack me with a spoon for divulging this here, screams or threatens their machine. My sewing days are exhausting, generally ending with the last seam being finished and something totally vulgar escaping my mouth. I love the hand-sewn item, and I desire to make them because I want to make what is in my head a reality - but the process is, uhm, kind of like warming up for a boxing match.

Lemme just say.....

That ya'll are totally awesome!

Yesterday did or didn't end as badly as it began, depending on which side of the cube you are intently staring and pondering the ways of the world. I guess after all this time I just want to fulfill my role as mother, knitter, and grower of fibery and delicious (garden) things. I was not relieved to find we are out of crackers as well but comforted myself by having peaches and almonds for dinner and maybe I slipped and bought myself this book and a dress form. I tried, but couldn't help myself. I might have felt guilty in doing so if hubster had returned from the movie via stopping off at a grocery and possibly getting me something, oh, I don't know, like a bottle of wine or something for my birthday. Fortunately, that didn't happen, again, depending on how you look at that cube and what you are threatening to do to it if it answers you wrongly! (giggle AND snort because I no longer give a damn to pretend to be demure)

Then there's the much prettier side of that blessed, sweet cube - and that is where ya'll come in. I started sobbing in my peaches when I logged into ravelry and found a thread created in our group wishing me a happy birthday. It meant so much because I don't even think I've mentioned it on the blog or ravelry so it meant that SOMEONE (actually, lots of someones) noticed. It's a little thing, really, but then it can also be so huge when a community of your friends collectively hug and make you feel special. I think as a mother, woman, totally insane person - I like to pretend that it doesn't matter but that assertion is hard to justify when you are crying and saying out loud, 'oh my gosh, they are so sweet!' Then, I 'casually' went to look at my blog comments and emails and found that ya'll were all over the place giving me hugs, chocolates, a friendly, healing smile, and generally making me feel like being on this earth is such a pleasure. I could say thank you but then I'd have to punch myself for coming up with something so bland in terms of the joy ya'll brought to me. I will just never forget it. Thanks (ouch!)

So, feeling generally contented with a life surrounded by such a great group of humans, I went into the studio to open packages. You know, packages of supplies, right? NOn! I signed up for my second swap this year - a crabby birthday swap on ravelry. My first was a crabby swap, too, so, obviously, I'm partial to swapping with fellow Cancers. I had my usual apprehension after signing up which was vamped up considerably when I was reading the 'guidelines' and found out the gift needed to be presented as a magic ball. I didn't know what that was at first so I, like the rest of the free world, googled it. Then, the sights of all of those balls of yarn delicately wrapped around thoughtful, creative presents nearly caused me to faint. I checked my partner's birth date and, I'm so ashamed to admit this, sighed with relief that mine came well before hers so I would have time to figure out just how good of a magic ball I'd need to make. I was assuming I would suck at it because, you know, it's DIFFERENT. And different equals panic to me more than I'd like to admit.

Last night was the perfect night to go magic balling. Kris, from the painted sheep, sent me a magic ball or two that thrilled me, made me feel oh so special, and confirmed what I already knew - I am doomed to be the lesser end of this magic balling swap. I mean, the roving ball is a fabulous idea and I'm not just saying that because I was already thinking about one. Still, this is her own hand painted colorway and it was so beautiful that I could hardly keep myself from spinning it right up! But, can you get a look at that yarn ball? I can't even wind a ball that nice when I'm not stuffing it with goodies! I hope Kris will understand when she gets a yarn dinosaur instead of a magic ball and I'll have to throw in some consolation gifts to make up for it....also, I may be practicing the magic ball for the next week. So, it being the first of the month, and the Great Giveaway being a part of our blogging dances here, guess what the prize will be? Aha! A magic ball! If you were kind enough to make my heart flutter and glow by commenting yesterday - you are already in the drawing. Though, feel free to comment some more because I could get drunk on the kindness of good friends these days! If you want to enter your name in the magic ball drawing, all you need to do is comment here pondering this little tidbit - what style and tailoring would a bitter woman knit a sweater for herself in as a sort of rite of passage into said bitterdom. Oh, c'mon - let's have fun with it! I'll draw on the 15th and notify the winner.

Now, on to the magic ball. Kris must have been in my head when she included in her roving ball some lotion and in the yarn ball some soap from Sleepy Moon Soaps I had the pleasure of being next door to Sleepy Moon while vending at Mass Sheep and Wool and I was thrilled - such were the delicious scents that wafted through the air. Citrus, chocolate, ginger, and lavender - I was in heaven. Not overly perfumed scents but the work of a woman who understands how to tickle and delight the nose. The soap is shea butter and silk and ya'll know how much I love me some silk! I can't wait for bath time! Also included were some teas from Topmost Tea and some goodies from her LYS and a lavender sachet. All from businesses that were local to her (see what I mean about this woman knowing my mind) and all so beautiful and yummy. Thanks this much (spreads her hands out wide) Kris!

So, now I'm off to keep on trucking, get some more work done, look forward to bath time and generally ponder how I managed to be so lucky as to walk into a virtual room full of so many truly awesome people!

Spinning a Handpainted Roving

So this weekend a few of us in the farm group on Ravelry decided to spend the longest night of the year (aka: Summer Solstice) spinning our little hearts out on some EKF fibers I jumped right in because, as you well know, any excuse to spin is a good excuse and I need very little prompting to ignore the rest of the house and just whirl my little rose away....what? Doesn't everybody?

The proper start is essential for a good spin-in so I started with some purple sparkly batts that were in the shop last week (Velvet). They are mostly Cotswold with a little tussah silk carded in so the luster is really at an orgasmic peak in this fiber. Sometimes, you just need to spin something that shines and sparkles and makes your eyes go 'Hello!' if you know what I mean. You see here the lofty goal I had of spinning both the 'velvet' batts and some dark purple roving I had from a season or two ago that I thought would work nicely in a shrug thingie with the batts. The roving, as it turns out, was just there to keep the 'velvet' company and will wait its turn to be spun behind all the other 'stuff' in my 'in' basket. The essentials of heavenly brown elixir of life and some red rooibos tea (because, yeah, we have officially started allergy season and the ax that was wedged into my brain for the better part of the day was proof of that - rooibos is sweet, good, and full of antioxidants as well as being a help to fend off allergies - we loves it). I spun the majority of the batts into singles. It's one of my favorite ways to feature the silky, lustrous, and smooth texture of Cotswold wool and the silk didn't seem to mind being shown off either. There's 150 yds. of worsted wgt. gooby (I'm still 12, apparently cuz I just typed that 'booby' and nearly fell outta my chair) softness in this 3 ozs. skein. The remaining ounce was spun super-fine and I got about 75 yds. of navajo plied yarn from that in a dk wgt. I will definitely spin some more to navajo ply. I used to NP alot but somehow just stopped for a while. I love it, really. It is super efficient as you have no left overs like with a 2 ply. It's very strong and beautiful and knits up into a soft, uniform fabric. Still, I just seem to 'forget' how much I like some things sometimes. The Spindling Scot reminded me when she posted some of hers on her blog. (smacks forehead and goes, 'oh yeah, I love plying that way' cuz she's really got alot of free real estate between the ears, doncha know)

By now, some of you might be wondering if I'm really goofy enough to post a title like 'spinning a hand painted roving' without realizing I'm talking about spinning a hand-dyed batt. Heh! Fooled ya, didn't I? The second part of my spin-in was some 'silk road' roving I dyed up the other day. I love spinning a hand-dyed roving. One of my favorite ways to spin a colorway that has the bold distinctions of color such as 'silk road' does, as opposed to a more muted and subtle changing colorway like, say, queen mermaid or something, is to tear the roving (in this case, 3.8 ozs) into 6 or 7 long strips. To make sure the colors don't line up so much which gives the knitting a striped look instead of a hand-dyed bonanza of visual surprise, I spin one strand much thinner than the other and then ply them together. For instance, I wanted a worsted wgt. yarn from this skein. So, I took about 2 3/4 ozs. of roving that was torn into strips and spun that in a sport wgt. single. The remaining amount, I spun into a fingering wgt single.

In doing this, you are stretching the colors of the fingering wgt. strand much farther than in your sport single. So, the red, turquoise, browns, purples, and blues will extend themselves and end up being plied alongside more stretches of the same sequence on your thicker strand. This way, you get windows of color but your yarn won't pool uncontrollably in your knit/crocheted item. This tactic also works splendidly when you are trying to combine different fibers in your stash for a bigger project. Say, you had some silk road but you wanted to stretch it out and have enough for a vest or sweater. Instead of the 1.5-2 lbs. of roving you'd need for that project, you could use a little more than half that of the hand-dyed roving and spin your thicker strand of that - ensuring you have non-stop, unapologetic color thrills throughout your sweater of love. But, you could ply a thinner strand of any one or more of the colors in the silk road roving. Are you a green lovin' one? Try some dark green. Still have that great big ball of mystery blue roving that you bought at your first fiber fair and you were so drunk with the fumes of fiber that you didn't even ask what it was( ahem)? You could use that. Of course, an economical and earthy alternative would be a plain brown strand (see, I CAN be reasonable). Red is for the brave so if you can sport red without looking like a poster pin-up ad or Elvira herself, go for it. I, myself, can only wear red if I wear no make-up and have my hair pulled back. Even a hint of balm on the lips and the naturally curly do that, let's face it, looks more like clown hair in the humid Maine summers and I start to shake my leg, chew my imaginary gum, and generally appear loose (gasp!). I got just what I bargained for in this spin - a little over 200 yds. of worsted wgt. color bliss in this 100 gram skein.

I was so busy reeling from that 'here's your summer, wench!' headache and spinning diligently away that I forgot what day it was. Well, I didn't, really. I mean, we had all manner of social engagements, deadlines, etc.etc. so I live and breath to cry over the calendar at least twice a day but what I mean to say is that I forgot that I said I'd announce the winner of the Great Giveaway on the 21st. Heh! You're very welcome.....for the friendly reminder that I am a total flake. Anyhoo, Susan won the handspun yarn this month - yeah, Susan! She's an awesome woman/knitter I've come to know on the little blog thingummie and I'm so glad to be sending this handspun single of 50/50 wool silk that I dyed in some rich purples to her....I hope she'll love it well!