Props

This is the first night this week that I haven't collapsed exhausted into bed at the end of a long day of dealing with students, problems, problem students...you get the picture. Yesterday I had to scold a middle-aged Korean man as though he were a naughty child because he simply WOULD NOT stay in the class he was supposed to be in. One teacher threw him out of her class when he tried to intrude; I had to drag him out of another class whose teacher was too kindhearted to bar him from the door. This is the same student who wanted to attend his wife's classes with her for the first week so he could "take care of her." Geez. Someone save me from this madness.

But, enough about me. Believe it or not, and contrary to the usual all-about-me-ness of my blog (it IS my blog, after all), this post is about DH. And he, who usually teases me (gently, of course...I get snippy otherwise) about blogging actually suggested I make this post; that's how I know it's important to him, and so I'm happy to oblige, if only in recognition of the fact that he would never, ever try to follow his wife around like some obsessed lunatic in the guise of protecting me...er, her, unlike at least one other man I have the misfortune to know. But, I digress.

This past weekend, DH finally did something he's been wanting to do for years but never put aside the time to do: he took a blacksmithing class. My husband the pen-and-paper artist is now officially an iron-and-steel artist as well. Take a look:




















Is that not cool? It's a fireplace poker. DH came up with the design himself, and he's especially proud of the ergonomic design of the handle, made to fit in the palm "just so."



















Close-up of said ergonomically-designed poker handle. Impressive, no?


I must say, I'm very proud of DH. Despite all his artistic talents (remind me to post photos of some of his sketches one of these days), he never really thinks of himself as an artist, but he's always wanted to be an artisan, at times in wood, at times in stone, of late in metal. I'm so glad he finally took the plunge. Of course, this does mean he's now pricing out forges -- can you imagine a forge just hanging out in the backyard or the garage, ready to be cranked up and turning out ironwork at a moment's notice? No odder than a house full of spinning wheels and looms, though, I suppose.

So, for all you spinners and weavers out there, all you fiber-folk who share space with a non-fiber SO, I've found the secret to forging (pardon the pun, I just couldn't resist, ya know) a successful relationship with a person who will just never, no matter how hard you try, really understand why you need another bag of fiber/drop spindle/spinning wheel/floor loom taking up space in an already overcrowded house: Get said SO a hobby of his/her own, preferably one that requires large, somewhat unsightly equipment (but takes place in a totally different type of space than your fiber hobbies, so as not to compete for limited storage room). Once DSO is firmly addicted to his/her new hobby, s/he will be powerless to criticize your hoarding tendencies because s/he will probably have developed similar ones him/herself.

Now if I can just figure out where we'll be able to store all that raw metal....

Tired....

Rough, rough day at work today. I have stuff to blog about and photos to take and post -- and a special post to make for DH, to show off something very, very cool he made yesterday -- but it won't happen tonight. Was up at 5am today; will be up at 5:20 tomorrow. Time for sleep now. G'night, all.

Ode to A Knitting Needle

To be sung to the tune of "Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone"

Why don't they make nylon circs any more?
Why don't they make them for me?
With their points so sharp
And their joins so smooth
Why don't they make them for meeeeeeeee?

*****

Last weekend, I lost one of my favorite knitting needles. It was a vintage, turquoise-colored size 6 straight, which is kind of odd since I usually knit everything on circs and love them to death. Nevertheless, this pair of needles was one of my favorites -- they were made of some sort of nylon-ish material (or maybe some sort of coating over metal), but whatever it was, they had just the right amount of grip vs. slide, just the right feel in my hands, they never split my yarn...in short, they were great.

Losing one has made me think about what I like in a knitting needle, especially since DH asked -- quite reasonably, I might add -- why I didn't just go out and buy another size 6 pair of needles (never mind the 4 or 5 other pairs I already have) and I was forced to explain that I would never be able to find another pair like that pair, and of course I then had to try and quantify why that pair was so darned special.

Here's what I figured out:

Aluminum knitting needles are classic. They take me back to my earliest days of knitting with my mom. They let yarn slide like crazy...so much so that my knitting often slides right off the ends and onto the floor in a cascade of live stitches and inappropriate language (mine, not the knitting's). They are also cold, and I vaguely worry that one day I'll be knitting with aluminum straights in the car when we'll get in an accident, the airbag will go off and I'll be impaled with my knitting.

Wooden needles are also classic, but in a different sense. If aluminum needles feel nostalgic in a vaguely 50's post-war-era sense, wooden needles hearken all the way back to our ancestors who knitted by candlelight through long, dark winters. Wooden needles are slightly grippy, which is great for working with slippery yarns. Wooden needles also splinter, and I just don't have the patience to break out the sandpaper and wax every time I want to knit.

Bone, shell, tusk and similar needles are impossible to find these days and probably illegal, although I do own two hand-carved bone crochet hooks of such impossibly tiny gauge that I can only imagine pixies used them to make itty-bitty little doilies for faerie tea parties. They are incredibly brittle and delicate and I keep them in a case where I can take them out to look at occasionally but never, ever use them.

Nylon circular needles are, for me, the absolute best knitting needles that money can buy. Circulars in general are far better than straights in my opinion (and yes, I'm sure there are people out there right now who insist straights are far better than circs, to whom I say I've got a stack of straights I'll trade for your circs right now, and we'll both be happy). First of all, it's far easier to knit with circs on a crowded subway than with straights -- I always wind up sticking someone with an errant end of a straight, and let me tell you, the looks people give you after being poked with a knitting needle are never pleasant. And, of course, it's nearly impossible to lose a circular needle or have it accidentally fall out of your knitting -- as Elizabeth Zimmermann wrote, unless you deliberately yank a circular needle out of your knitting, it's pretty much in there to stay. And I've found that nylon circs are the best of the best. The points are nice and sharp, making them ideal for lace work and other patterns involving lots of K2- and K3togs. And the joins...well, there really aren't any joins per se, just a length of nylon that goes from thick and sturdy to thin and flexible, unlike every other kind of circ that has some sort of lump or bump or groove at the join to snag your knitting and make your (ok, MY) life miserable. Nylon circs don't splinter, they don't break if you sit on them, and if I'm ever in a car accident while knitting with them, I figure the worst they'll give me is a minor flesh wound.

Of course, since nylon circs are the ideal knitting needle, they are no longer being manufactured. Anywhere. By anyone. So, short of haunting ebay and snapping up lots of nylon circs whenever I see them, I'm at a loss for finding the knitting needle of my dreams.

*sigh*

What's your favorite kind of knitting needle? Cast your vote in the poll on the sidebar to the right.

All Work and No Play...

...makes Splindarella crazy!

It's the beginning of the semester, and I'm losing my mind. I've been working long hours and extra days getting students tested, placed, registered, oriented.... And it won't let up for at least another week, probably two.

The only knitting I've been doing is for my friend's baby shower, to which I just found out I've been dis-invited. Let me hasten to say it's not my friend's fault. Her party is a surprise, and the person throwing it is the one who dis-invited me. Get this: The baby shower is a cocktail party. When I spoke with the hostess to RSVP, I asked if I could bring Baby M with me as I didn't have a babysitter. The hostess said she preferred to keep it an adult party, but if it was a choice between coming or not coming, I should come with the baby.

Apparently, she changed her mind, but didn't want to tell me about it. First, she "lost" my RSVP. The husband of my friend, the expectant mom, phoned me asking if I'd gotten my invitation and if I'd be able to make it. When I said I had and that I'd RSVP'd already, I also mentioned that I'd be bringing Baby M. Just yesterday, my friend's husband emailed to say that the party hostess told him that children weren't invited -- they wanted to keep the "atmosphere of a cocktail party." And so, I said I wouldn't be attending.

Now, can someone please explain to me how one throws a cocktail party for an expectant mother???

Anyway...I suppose the good thing is it's one less thing I have to do at a time that's already busy and stressful enough. I can finish my baby knitting at my own pace and not have to sit through what already seems like it's going to be a pretentious, pain-in-the-a$$ event. (Not annoyed much, am I?)

Meanwhile, it's back to the grind for me. Send good knitterly thoughts my way, if you would, that I keep my sanity over the next few days....

Getting to Know Me

Blogger's not playing nicely and refusing to publish my photos today, so instead of blogging about the baby bunny that DH and I took to the wildlife rescue over the weekend and the wonderful MDK Swapcloth package I received today, instead I'm going to steal a list from I Don't Blog and share a little different information about myself.

Items in italics are things I've done. What would YOU mark in italics on YOUR list?

1. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
2. Swam with wild dolphins
3. Climbed a mountain
4. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
5. Been inside the Great Pyramid
6. Held a tarantula
7. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
8. Said 'I love you' and meant it
   
9. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby's diaper
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Gotten drunk on champagne
    
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
    
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. Had two hard drives for your computer
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched wild whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. Taken a road-trip
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Midnight walk on the beach
    
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
    
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Alphabetized your cd's
56. Milked a cow
    
57. Sung karaoke
58. Pretended to be a superhero
    
59. Lounged around in bed all day
    
60. Posed nude in front of strangers
61. Gone scuba diving
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theater
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
    
69. Toured ancient sites
70. Taken a martial arts class
71. Gotten married
    
72. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
    
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days
77. Made cookies from scratch
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
    
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an "expert"
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music
87. Eaten shark
88. Had a one-night stand
89. Gone to Thailand
90. Bought a house
91. Been in a combat zone
    
92. Buried one of your parents
93. Been on a cruise ship
94. Spoken more than one language fluently
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
    
96. Raised children
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
98. Created and named your own constellation of stars
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an illness that you shouldn't have survived
105. Wrote articles for a large publication
     
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Petted a stingray
     
110. Broken someone's heart
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a T.V. game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had major surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet
     
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
     
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. Eaten sushi
     
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
129. Changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about
130. Gone back to school
     
131. Parasailed
132. Petted a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
     
134. Read The Iliad - and the Odyssey
135. Selected one "important" author who you missed in school and read all their books
     
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. Skipped all your school reunions
     
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
     
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written your own computer language
141. Thought to yourself that you're living your dream
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone's life

And the Winner Is....

My last post started out as a commentary on the generosity of fiber folk and ended up as a contest asking people to post answers to the chicken-and-egg-type question of whether generous people are somehow drawn to the fiber arts or working with fiber somehow makes people more generous. An amazing 21 responses came in, and I was incredibly impressed with everyone's thoughts. I was touched by wavybrains' story of how she learned to crochet in order to make Christmas presents; I smiled at robin's image of fiber gremlins and fairies flittering around her stash; I loved the strong feminist ethos underlying terri d's comments about the "culture of domesticity" and "true womanhood" vs a non-gender-specific desire to nurture. In fact, everyone's comment contained something wonderful and inspiring, and picking just one writer to send a surpise to was really tough.

But, I kept coming back to one comment, I think because I was moved by the fact that the writer started out knitting because she wanted something for herself, and through the process of knitting discovered that she wanted to give to others. Here's the comment as written by its author, in full:

"I started knitting because I saw a pair of fingerless gloves I wanted to make in a book. I never thought I would want to start knitting things for other people. To some extent, I think that having the ability to knit has caused me to look beyond just knitting for myself and, instead, see places where I can bring a smile to someone else's face. Giving a handknit is much different to me than giving money because part of me is in my knitting... the love I have both for knitting and the person I am knitting for, the time I spend choosing a pattern and yarn and knitting it up makes a handknit so much more valuable a gift. I would hope the recipients agree. Maybe that is why generous knitters are drawn together; they understand the work put into creating and can appreciate that at a level many other people cannot. To answer your question more directly, I think that truly having something to give makes many people who work with fiber more giving."

So, congratulations, REN -- you're a winner, in more ways than one! A little surprise will be winging its way to you in the near future.... :)

Contest: Secret Pal 9 and the Lure of the Swap

Yesterday, I signed up for the Secret Pal 9 swap. I haven't participated in any of the previous 8 Secret Pal swaps, but I've enviously been reading posts about Swap 8 and thinking to myself that I have to get in on the next one. I've participated in smaller swaps hosted by Spindlers and MDK Swapcloth...it was only a matter of time before I went for the big 'un.

I've been wondering why I like swaps so much, whether of the anonymous, "secret pal" variety or the more straightforward, barter-type "I send you something and you send me something of equal value in lieu of cash" swap. After all, I recently got burned pretty badly when I sent off 3 pounds (yes, you read that right -- 3 pounds) of superwash merino in a barter deal and got absoltely nothing back for it, not even after many emails, a list mom intervention and a certified snail-mail letter. (Laurel Smith of Adkins, TX, if you happen to read this, I'm still waiting for my alpaca.) DH asked me as much after the "Superwash Incident," as it's come to be called in our house, and I think I've figured it out.

As a kid, I always loved surprise packages. I would dutifully send off my $1.99 (or $3.99, or -- if I managed to save up enough of my allowance for the giant-sized package, which in all honesty I don't think I ever did -- $7.99) for a Mystery Surprise Package from one of the knick-knack catalogs that my mom always got in the mail around Christmastime. I would then wait with anticipation until the day that my package arrived in the mail. They were always full of junk, whatever the mail-order company ordered too much of or hadn't sold enough of, but I loved it all nonetheless. I pretty much just loved opening up a box with no idea of what could be inside, knowing it was full of...stuff. Maybe great stuff, maybe kitschy stuff, maybe (probably) stuff I never would have bought if I'd seen it out on a shelf. No matter; if it came in a Mystery Surprise Package, the experience alone was enough to justify the expense.

As an adult, I no longer send away for random boxes of Carol Wright-esque crap. But, I still just love a surprise.

And so I'm willing to take a chance that the bulk of the knitters and spinners in this world are honest. I'm willing to send something off to someone else and get something back in return, sight unseen. And even moreso than in a barter-type exchange, I'm willing -- no, not just willing, actually eager, truly looking forward to -- putting together packages of stuff for a person I've never met; stuff picked with thought and care in the hope that the recipient will love getting that surprise box just as much as I enjoyed getting my surprise boxes all those years ago. And judging by the popularity of fiber swaps of all types, I'm not alone.

Are we fiber-folk just weird? I mean, I don't see the people on DH's listservs (mostly martial-arts and weapons-related sites) arranging to swap personalized gis or handmade pocketknives.

Hmm. I wonder what it is about fiber-folk that can account for that level of generosity, that degree of joy received in the giving. While some knit-lit writers (the Yarn Harlot comes to mind) write, mainly in jest, about not wanting to share their stash, I find that for the most part, fiber-folk are more than willing to do just that, whether in the form of sending stash yarns to people who had lost theirs, knitting for a variety of charities, or just making and giving handmade gifts to those they love. There must be some sort of chicken-and-egg conundrum going on here: Does working with fiber make people more giving, or are generous people somehow drawn to working with fiber?

In the spirit of giving, therefore, I'm creating a little contest. Leave a comment with your answer to the question above (Does working with fiber make people more giving, or are generous people somehow drawn to working with fiber?) and why you think it's so. I'll pick one answer that I think is particularly nifty and reward the writer with a surprise. The surprise will be a good one, and I may just check out the writer's blog a bit to get an idea of how to tailor the surprise to suit his or her likes and dislikes. So put your thinking caps on, everyone, and let me know what you think!

Splintarella

I was reminded last night that in the not-too-distant future I have a baby shower to attend. My initial plan for a baby gift was to make a Week of Kimonos from the Mason-Dixon Knitting Book. The kimonos are just as heartbreakingly cute as advertised, and they knit up quickly enough that I could easily see myself blowing through a small corner of my kitchen cotton stash making up a bunch in no time. Heck, I figured I'd probably even be able to make matching bibs to go along.

Then came the whole "knitter's finger" debacle, which quickly developed into "knitter's wrist," "knitter's elbow" and -- because I'm not one to do things halfway -- "knitter's shoulder." While I was perfectly willing to ignore doctor's orders to go cold-turkey on the knitting for six weeks, my tendons were not. Thus, for what is hopefully the time being, I've been forced to knit wearing splints.

Y'know, not for nothing but years ago, there were men, women and children who knitted all day, every day -- it was their livelihood, so not a moment was to be wasted -- and you never heard of any of them getting carpal tunnel. How dare my body rebel like this? Am I getting old? (OK, don't answer that last one.)

In any event, my knitting progress has understandably slowed down somewhat. The Week of Kimonos turned into a Long Weekend of Kimonos, which now looks like it might very well become a Personal Day of Kimono...or perhaps a Sick Day of Kimono would be more apropos...? The blue kimono in the photo is a bit over 2/3 finished, with only the right front panel left to do before seaming and finishing. At the rate I'm going, I should be putting the final touches on...hmmm, let's see...just about as we're pulling into the driveway for the party. That sounds about right.

So, for the love of handknits, please send some knitterly love and happy thoughts my way as I head for the home stretch, one slow, splinty, stinkin' stitch at a time.

Houston, We Have Placemats

I'm still not doing much knitting in the hopes that whatever carpal tunnel problems I'm developing will subside. I've therefore been focusing on weaving, and have managed to finish all but the knotted fringe on my cotton and linen placemats:















I know that doesn't look like much, but it's actually 3 placemats still connected by their common warp threads. Once I cut them apart and knot the fringe, the edges will look like this:















This was my first time weaving with cotton and my first time working with linen, period. I'm excited about wet finishing the placemats to see how the fibers react; from what I understand, the linen should soften up and get nice and drapey.

The two plaid-ish placemats were the ones I planned; the striped is the one I had enough leftover warp for. I wasn't about to waste the warp, but if I'd known I'd had enough for a full third mat, I would have done it in the same plaid pattern and measured to make it come out the same size as the others. Live and learn, I suppose.

I'm already thinking ahead to my next weaving project, and I think it's going to be a shawl. I picked up a ton of fuzzy novelty yarn at the dollar store a few months back, and I think I may use it for both warp and weft to make a nice cushy wrap.

Thanks...

...to everyone for being so supportive. It's so hard losing one precious companion animal, let alone two, but all your kind words have truly been comforting.

Kobe - A Little Love Story















Kobe and DH together on the beach in Maine

I feel like all I've written and thought about for the past two days is how sad I am over the loss of Fatboy and Kobe...especially Kobe, because from the very beginning she was my little doggie. Now I want to write a happier story about them, and about her.

When DH and I got married, we acquired within the space of a month a new marriage, a new house and a new dog, Shasta. We were moving from NYC to the "wilds" of Dutchess County, NY, and I swore right off the bat that I wasn't about to live in a house in the middle of nowhere without a dog. We found Shasta, at North Shore Animal League, a wonderful no-kill shelter on Long Island, and adopted her three weeks before the wedding.

Shortly after moving, we realized that Shasta wasn't happy being the only dog in the house, and we started thinking about adopting her a friend. At about that time, my M-I-L told us about a pair of bulldogs she knew about. They had been living in the basement of a fish market for two years as the result of a puppy sale gone bad. M-I-L said that the owners were willing to give us the dogs if we wanted them.

DH and I were leery. Three dogs? We were debating over a mere two. But, I decided to go with M-I-L, just to look.

As soon as I saw the dogs, I knew I couldn't leave them there. They were living in a cage underneath a generator in a dank basement, being fed with leftovers from a Chinese restaurant and only allowed out into the basement itself at nighttime once the market has closed. The dogs hadn't been out of that basement in two years. We managed to lure Fatboy out of the cage with food and petting, but it was poor Kobe (then called BoBo) who really tugged at my heartstrings. She was so shy and so suspicious that even after an hour in that basement she would only venture as far as the edge of the cage. What really got me was that it was so clear that she desperately wanted to come out -- she just couldn't bring herself to. I've never seen such a pitiful thing before or since. I decided then and there that the two dogs would be DH's birthday present, whether he wanted them or not (and, of course, he wanted them, even if he didn't know it quite yet).

When we came back a week or so later to pick up the dogs, Fatboy let us put a collar on him and lead him upstairs on the end of a leash. Kobe, on the other hand, just plastered herself to the floor and refused to move. You would think that three adults could move a 40-pound dog...and you would be wrong. Both dogs smelled unbelievably bad, and there was only so close we were willing to hold either one -- carrying Kobe out of the basement by force, therefore, just wasn't an option. We eventually got her to sit inside a large cardboard box and rode her up and out of the basement on the conveyer belt. The whole time, she sat stoic and motionless with her head and shoulders up above the top edge of the box, just riding that conveyer belt to an outdoors she hadn't seen for two years.

Once we got the dogs home, we realized what a task we had undertaken. Neither dog was house trained, and they didn't even know what a house was. They were afraid of carpet. They barked in a frenzy at the ironing board and the Christmas tree. They didn't know how to walk up and down stairs. They absolutely refused to touch grass. It was a learning process for us all.

Fatboy adjusted pretty quickly. We realized over the years that he was truly our "live in the moment" dog. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he had the biggest heart of all our dogs and was nothing but genuine heart and good feeling towards everyone and everything. Kobe, on the other hand, held onto every little hurt and kept it all stored up inside. She was a sensitive little soul, and she covered her hurts with a gruff exterior. I remember when she first came to us, she had this disturbing habit of sitting for hours just staring at the wall. She would sit just a foot or so in front of the wall with her back to the room and just stare. It was like she was deliberately isolating herself from the rest of us. I could only imagine what horrible things she was remembering about her life in the basement, or what she must have made of her new life in such different and probably overwhelming, frightening surroundings.

One of my happiest moments was watching Kobe outdoors in the yard, rolling around on the grass on her back. I remember thinking that she looked so happy, the very picture of joy.















Kobe's first time chasing sticks in the water

I remember her chasing sticks into the water when we all went on vacation to Maine. I remember her jumping up on her hind legs when she saw a treat or some food she really wanted. I remember her eating pizza crust. I remember when she first came to us and had a bad ear infection how I had to put medicine in her ears and rub them every night. She let me hold her on her lap and fondle her ears and I really think that more than anything helped her settle into her new life. She always loved having her ears rubbed. She would wake us up in the mornings by putting her face right up to ours and snorting -- "spitting" as DH called it. She would always stay up with the last person to go to bed; she would be sitting right here with me now as I type, and she wouldn't come to bed until I turned out all the lights and called for her. She loved to sleep on something soft but would always pee on it. She hated snow and loved to sit in on our yoga classes.

Kobe and DH doing yoga together.

I love all my dogs but somehow Kobe touched my heart in a different way, and I loved her all the more for it. I feel so guilty that in recent years I didn't have the time to spend with her that I used to. We got rid of our old couch, the one the dogs destroyed by sitting on it with us, and consigned them to the floor; no more snuggling with them by our sides at night. This last year and a half since the baby was born saw me paying more and more attention to her and less and less to the dogs. Understandable, the logical part of my brain says, but it hurts my heart to know that Kobe was there, waiting and wanting more. More ear rubs, more belly pats, more time just sitting close to the people she loved. She certainly had a better life than she had in that basement, but did she have the best life we -- I -- could have given her?

I know I wanted this to be a happy post, and it makes me happy remembering all the good times with my little Kobe; but it makes me sad, too, thinking of how I could have done more, could have made more of the time we had together. I'm so, so sorry I didn't.

I don't usually regret things. But I regret that.

I'm so sad about losing Kobe.

It feels so unreal. Over the past couple of days, DH and I had noticed that Kobe seemed to be putting on a little bit of weight. The evening before last, however, it was very pronounced - she looked pregnant, although we knew that was impossible. She also seemed to be having trouble walking. We took her to the emergency, after-hours vet and they found her abdomen was full of fluid. They suspected a tumor on the heart, which left the heart surrounded by fluid itself and unable to pump hard enough. The vet said he was shocked that she could even rouse herself enough to bark in protest at the poking and prodding she was getting.

We took Kobe home that night and brought her to our vet the next day, yesterday. They gave us the same diagnosis. We could have taken her to the really big animal hospital in the area, had her undergo a fluid draining and quite possibly surgery...all the bad stuff, chemo and clinging to life for a few more days or weeks or months. DH's oldest brother died of cancer that ate away at him until he was a shell of the person he'd been. He was only 39 years old when he died. Yesterday as we listened to the third vet in two days tell us the same things, all DH could think about was his brother and the pain and suffering he went through. After agonizing over the decision, we finally had them put Kobe to sleep.

I wished I'd had some liverwurst with me to feed her. That morning, she wouldn't eat anything, not even her favorite chicken breast chewy treats. I finally got her to eat some hard-boiled egg, I think because it was soft. Then, I remembered I had liverwurst in the fridge. As soon as I broke it out and put it under her nose, her eyes lit up. It was exactly like that, like a light popped right into them: "Liverwurst -- all right!" She managed to eat 3 whole slices before she stopped and turned her head away. I don't know if she would have eaten it at the vet's, but at least she could have smelled it.

Still, she at least died surrounded by the people who loved her, in a place she always liked (believe it or not, both Kobe and Fatboy liked going to the vet, maybe because everyone there always made such a fuss about them and paid them so much attention), cradled in my arms and looking right at me. DH and I got to kiss her and hold her right up to the end.

God, I'm so sad.

KOBE: 199? - 2006



Rest in peace, little girl.

Send Good Thoughts, Please

Our bulldog is sick. Really sick.

This is our female bulldog, the lifelong mate of our male, Fatboy, who died exactly three weeks ago today. She's got a terribly enlarged heart which may be the result of a heretofore undiagnosed tumor; the heart is pressing on her trachea; she's having trouble breathing, she doesn't want to eat....

We brought her home from the emergency vet tonight. Please think good thoughts and send them her way. She needs them.

Everything I Ever Needed to Know About Blogging I Learned This Morning


Forget all that stuff about how to link without stealing bandwidth. The only thing anyone ever need know about blogging is the following:

NEVER, EVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, SAVE CHANGES TO YOUR TEMPLATE WITHOUT PREVIEWING FIRST.

You don't want to know how I know this. Suffice it to say, my suffering is to your benefit. Learn from me. And if you logged onto my blog this morning before 8am EDT, I apologize for its scruffy, 3-day-old-beard, no-morning-coffee, been-beat-on-the-side-of-the-head-with-a-bat look. It's all better now.

I, on the other hand, need to go back to bed and get away from the html code for awhile.

New Feature!

Inspired by Debbie New and a column in one of my husband's magazines, I've decided to create within my blog a section of knitting book reviews written in haiku form.

Why?

'Cause if it's worth saying, it can be said in 17 syllables.

Scroll down to the bottom of this page to take a look.
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The Definition of Irony, and More....

Before I get to any fibery news, I have to relate the following story:

Today, I witnessed the walking, talking definition of irony. A couple, one man and one woman, was walking down the street near Union Square. The man wore Dockers and a button -down; the woman wore jeans and a tank top. Buckled tightly around the woman's neck was a studded, black leather dog collar about 2 or 3 inches wide. At the very back, embedded in the leather of the collar, was an iron ring about an inch and a half in diameter. And attached to a back loop of the woman's jeans was a metal dog leash.

Ready for the irony?

As they're walking along together, the man's hand resting possessively in the woman's back pocket, I overhear him soliloquizing on the state of music today.

"I grew up in the Golden Age of hip-hop," he said. "Back then, hip-hop was at its best. But this generation, this generation is just degrading. It's degrading to women."

Only in New York.

*****

Also only in New York: The Strand Bookstore, with its famed 18 miles of books.

Of course, within those 18 miles of books, only about a foot-and-a-half of space is devoted to knitting. I kid you not. When I asked why, I was told that knitting is just so popular that the books fly off the shelves as soon as they hit. I could buy more books about quilting, needlepoint and cross-stitch than I ever thought could possibly exist, but finding a good knitting book in the Strand is an exercise in patience and diligence.

Well, today I hit the mother lode. Witness my shameless haul:


DPNs were almost drawn over the Debbie New as an enthusiastic fellow-knitter snatched that gem off the shelf right out from under my hot little hand. But I kept my cool (and my grip on the Barbara Walkers, which said competition was also eyeing enviously) and hung around pretending to flip through a volume on knitting for kids until the woman decided she didn't want Unexpected Knitting after all and put it back on the shelf. Down I swooped and just like that I had four wonderful new volumes to add to my collection.

My reviews so far (based on a few minutes' browsing in the store and about an hour's subway ride afterwards):

Barbara Walker's First and Second Treasuries: What's left to be said? Two of the four definitive stitch dictionaries. I now have more stitch patterns than I will ever possibly use in my lifetime. So, why do I feel compelled to buy her Third and Fourth Treasuries as well?

Folk Socks: I'm a huge fan of Folk Shawls, but I did pass on Folk Hats when I got honest with myself and accepted the fact that I would never, ever knit any of the hats in the book, not even for my year-old daughter. Folk Socks seems like a good compromise: a book with lots of interesting stuff to read about the history of sock-making around the world plus some accessible, fun patterns that I might actually try. Maybe this will inspire me to put the few balls of sock yarn I have to good use.

Unexpected Knitting: All hail Debbie New! She is my guru of knitting, the goddess of knitdom. She is the person I want to invite to my "fantasy dinner party," where I can have any guests I want, living or dead, real or fictional. The woman has knit a boat -- a boat! She has also knit a giant wall hanging portrait of her grandmother that looks like one of those mosaic puzzles that you have to stand a few dozen yards away from to see the picture. She has knitted a cape that looks for all the world like Eric Carle's butterfly from The Very Hungry Caterpillar. She has knitted a sculpture that makes music when you touch it. I kid you not. Debbie New is beyond words, and I absolutely love Unexpected Knitting. I got so engrossed that I completely missed my subway stop and wound up riding to the very end of the line. I want one pinky-finger's worth of Debbie New's talent and creativity. Short of that, I'll take this book.

*****

One final thing to note: The identity of my mystery MDK Swapcloth Pal is Elizabeth of the Bad Kitty Blog! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Elizabeth, for the wonderful warshrags. May your partner be as good to you as you were to me!

Next on My Must-Try-This List....

Criminy Jickets: Garterlac Dishcloth

Fantabulous Fiber Day!

The Fiber Faeries were certainly looking out for me today. Look what was waiting for me when I got home tonight:














Not one, not two, but THREE fibery packages!

The first was a Spindlers trade package. I swapped a bunch of Spanish books for 5 oz of brown alpaca (in the background in the photo above -- kind of dusty and with some VM but nice and soft) and 2 oz of absolutely gorgeous tussah silk, which looks a bit less purple and a bit more mahogany in person than it does in the photo. Thanks, Tracy, for an awesome trade!

The second package was a Bosworth featherweight spindle with a Chakte Vega whorl.














It spins like an absolute dream -- I think I'll be using it to spin up my new tussah silk. You can also see the beautiful purple/blue sample fiber Sheila included to get the cop started. Thanks, Jonathan and Sheila, for yet another spectacular spindle!

And last but certainly not least, I got a surprise package from my MDK Warshrag Swap partner. We were each supposed to knit one warshrag from the MDK book and send it to our partner. Well, my partner sent me FOUR!














Aren't they great??

I still don't know who my partner is, but I have my suspicions, and s/he promised to reveal her/himself once I received my package. So, thank you mystery swap partner, and once I find out for sure who you are, I'll publically thank you by name! :))))

The Zen of Weaving

A lot has been written about the zen properties of knitting. Knitting can put the knitter into a semi-trance, inducing a sense of calm and relaxation associated with more traditional forms of meditation.

Far be it from me to disagree. I've felt it myself -- it's one of the things I enjoy most about knitting (and I do enjoy a LOT of things about knitting).

However, I can't help but feel that the relaxation thing is only one small part of the meditation experience as a whole. If you want a true "fiber meditation," try weaving.

Why, you ask? (OK, you might very well not care. If that's the case, skip over this post entirely and head here, where you'll find lots of knitterly stuff without any undue philosophizing.)

It's simple. A huge part of meditation is discipline. The discipline to meditate every day, whether or not you feel it's "working." The discipline to meditate even when your brain is running all over the place like a three-year-old at an ice-cream party. The discipline to meditate even when every fiber of your being screams that the whole exercise is pointless.

That's where knitting as meditation falls short.

Think about it. When you want to knit, you pick up needles and yarn and you knit. Maybe you take the time to pick out a pattern first (or maybe not). Maybe you debate over needles and yarn (or maybe you just grab whatever's on top of the stash pile). If it's a project where gauge is critical, you'll probably take the time to do a swatch or two. But no matter, since it's knitting you know that within a relatively short time you'll be doing what you like to do best: turning miles of yarn into square yards of fabric.

And as you sit and knit (and relax into its meditative aspects), you'll probably get into a groove and let your mind drift away, especially if you've chosen a relatively repetitive or straightforward project like a plain stockinette hat or socks and not something designed to make your eyes bleed like a 15-color Fair Isle sweater. In fact, by the time you tune back into your surroundings again, you'll look down at your hands and see...fabric! In the time you've been zoning (or maybe chatting with friends, listening to music or simply watching the world go by), your fingers have been doing their thing with minimal input from your higher consciousness, resulting in the pleasant surprise of making seemingly effortless progress on your knitting. Unless you're so zoned out that you drop a stitch and have to tink back, which can destroy that meditative calm pretty darn quick. But, I digress.

Contrast that, then, with weaving. In my post of two days ago, I had just begun to warp my loom in preparation for making two linen-and-cotton placemats. Just to remind you, at that time after several hours' work, my loom looked like this:
















I then worked for several more hours last night, at which time my loom looked like this:
















I also worked on my placemats tonight, and my loom now looks like this:
















If all these photos look essentially the same to you, you're not imagining things. This is my point about weaving and discipline. I've just worked for hours and hours over a period of three days and what I have to show for it is...string. Lots of string. None of it remotely resembling fabric, mind you -- just miles of parallel strings, stretching between two bars on a loom.

Talk about discipline.

This is meditation at its most down-and-dirty. This is the discipline shown by those monks who sweep sand into intricate patterns every morning simply to have them trampled by feet and blown away by the wind every night...and yet they go right back the next morning and do it all over again. This is the discipline to do something even though you're absolutely, positively certain it's all for naught, that you're making no progress, that yours is a task worty of Sisyphus and that the fun part, the actual weaving of fabric, will never, ever happen.

Can I tell you that even now, after 3 days of warping my loom, I'm not ready even now to begin the actual process of weaving? That's right -- before I can weave, I first have to wrap my weft yarns around my shuttles:
















Those are the shuttles you see lying across the warped loom above. I need to wrap one with half the skein of Euroflax and the other with the black cotton.
















This next photo shows the shuttles standing up alongside the loom, just to give another perspective on how friggin' long and awkward they are. There is no easy way to wrap these shuttles. It will take me yet more hours, especially as the black mercerized cotton, which I'm using doubled, insists on sticking together and knotting at every opportunity. After I finish wrapping my shuttles, concluding what will be a minimum of four days' and many hours' work, I will then and only then be ready to first begin weaving. If I had put this many hours of effort into knitting, I'd have a full placemat finished already and a second well under way.

Discipline.

You'll excuse me; I'm off to meditate at my loom.

Warped

While there are lots of things that this title could refer to -- my husband's sense of humor, the state of the nation -- I was really referring to my rigid heddle loom.






























I started warping late this afternoon while Baby M took her nap. I continued this evening after dinner while DH played video games and the dogs napped at our feet. I'll finish sometime tomorrow, either before or after Auntie & Uncle P's visit with Baby E in tow. We're scheduled to head to a local Native American Pow Wow tomorrow afternoon, so if I can get the house tidied up early I may finish this first step in warping before the P clan arrives; otherwise, I'll do it in the evening to the sound of grunting PS2 boxers and canned ringside pep talks.

I'm warping my loom with Euroflax (the variegated orange/red/black) and doubled mercerized cotton (the solid black). My goal is to make 2 fringed placemats. The pattern and mix of yarns is the result of my buying 2 skeins of Euroflax as an experiment, thus not having enough to weave placemats solely out of that yarn. I happened to have the cotton in my stash, and I figured it would do to "pad" my linen. I came up with the color pattern myself, and the weave will be plain ol' tabby (the only kind I know).

At least my lower arms are feeling better -- hardly any pain at all, and certainly not what I was feeling these past couple of days, when I pretty much felt a pulling in the tendons up to my elbows all the time. It's good I'll be weaving these next few days to really change my hand/arm motions and hopefully stop any repetitive-motion injury from developing.

The "knitter's finger" feels infinitely better -- all the more reason for me to keep cooling it with the knitting for a bit longer. Besides, I haven't woven anything in quite awhile and I'm looking to experiment. I still have a stash of bamboo yarn in a gorgeous orange/yellow/cream colorway that I want to make up into a shawl once I feel confident enough about getting a decent selvedge.

By the way, this is how I warp a loom:




















Direct warping -- what a godsend! Check out the Ashford Book of Rigid Heddle Weaving for easy-to-follow directions.

Alpaca (Sky) Blues

I am in love with alpaca. Take a look at this:




















That's my skein of sky-blue, glitzy alpaca, newly-washed and hanging to dry (don't worry, I didn't leave it to dry on the metal wine rack -- just long enough for a pretty photo and then back on the icky-looking but non-rustable plastic hanger). Notice anything?

No hanging weight.

That's right, my first skein of yarn that actually turned out balanced -- no wild kinks to take out with a water-filled spray bottle hung off the end of the drying skein.

I am in awe.

I'm sure someone who knows about these things can explain why this happened. Maybe it's the "lack of memory" I've heard alpaca has...? (If this is what lack of memory does, may all my yarns develop Altzheimer's.) Maybe it's something to do with crimp, or a lack thereof...?

You can see I'm pretty much tossing around bits of info and cool-sounding jargon that I don't really understand; bad spinner that I am, I've never really read the spinning books that I own cover-to-cover and absorbed the technical information about various fibers the way other spinners have. As far as I know, alpaca may be full of magic pixie dust which is responsible for its wonderful spinning properties. Basically, I pick up fiber and spin it. If it turns into yarn -- and it always has, although of what quality is often up for debate -- I'm okay with it. But this beautiful, balanced skein is really the crowning achievement of my little-over-a-year's-worth of spinning experience, and I'm perfectly happy with giving all the credit to the alpaca and none to my own skills as a spinner.

I will say, though, that my plying is getting better.




















Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. No really un-twisted, fat-n-puffy sections; no really over-twisted, help-me-I'm-a-corkscrew sections; just a nice, fairly even ply that seems to have made a fairly nice, even yarn.

Again, I'm ready to give credit to the alpaca -- there must be something in the fiber that allowed this to happen. But I have gotten somewhat smarter about plying from both ends of a center-pull ball. I've pretty much come to grips with the fact that there will be no easy way, for me at least, of plying from both ends. Some people do it with ease. They sing the praises of the double-ended ply -- "no leftover yarn!" "easier than Navajo plying" -- but it always seemed to turn into a tangled mess for me, no matter what I did.

Once I finally accepted that I would never be able to simply pull smoothly from both ends of the ball, I tried unwinding a length of yarn from both ends of the ball and then plying that length. It slowed me down in the short run since I had to stop and unwind the next length every time I'd plied what I'd previously unwound, but it saved time and effort in the long run because I didn't have to deal with a bird's nest of tangles. All in all, I'm pretty pleased.

Now to take some close-ups of my new-to-me Country Craftsman spinning wheel. A kind Spindler contacted me and told me about the CC that she rescued -- now we're going to exchange photos and hopefully I'll get a better idea of what I've got and what I should do next with it.

In Lieu of Knitting

Here's what I've been working on these past couple of days:


















I finished spinning my sky-blue alpaca singles yesterday and today I plied from both ends of a center-pull ball to get the bobbin you see above. I just love how my Louet bobbins hold so much yarn! I don't know how many yards I have, but I think I'm going to try making either a neck warmer or an Elizabeth Zimmermann dickey (hoping I have enough, of course). The alpaca is so incredibly soft, and I love the subtle glint the little bit of glitz gives the finished product. Now I just need to set the twist and it'll be all set.

And here are the beaded necklaces that I made yesterday:





























I wish my camera could get a better close-up shot, but this is as good as it gets. The first necklace is in oyster shell (if I'm remembering correctly -- they're the square orange beads), blue coral and rough-cut amethyst with sterling silver findings. The coral beads are pretty cool -- it seems that they grow on sunken subway cars and the iron in the cars turns the coral naturally blue. Whoda thunk it?

The second necklace is mainly quartz chips with bali silver, glass (the large central bead) and seed beads.

Aside from keeping occupied with every other craft besides knitting, I'm also planning my next knitting projects (tendonitis, shmendonitis). This afternoon I ordered the Icosa Welt Ball Pillow pattern. This too-cool-for-words spherical pillow is knit in what look like mitered equilateral triangles that are then grafted together to form a ball. You can see a finished version on Bente's Blog.

The only place I found the pattern was at Knit-Purl in Oregon, which charges a flat $6.50 shipping fee to anywhere in the continental U.S. -- great for folks buying in bulk, kinda sucky for someone like me who only wants to buy a single pattern.

I even looked into buying the yarn from K-P just so I felt like I wasn't getting so very screwed on shipping. However, there was no freakin' way I was buying 6 skeins of Koigu at $12 each to make a pillow! I headed over to Knitpicks instead and picked up some fingering weight at about a quarter of the price. I don't know when I'll get to it, but knowing I have a cool project just waiting in the wings makes me very happy.

Finally, I've decided that since I'm spinning so much more these days I'm going to invest in another Bossie featherweight. I've already contacted Sheila to see what woods and weights they have in stock, so with a little luck I'll be able to place my order this week. Then I'll finally be able to try my hand at spinning a little silk...mmmmmmmm, silk....... ;-)

In other news, I went out and bought a couple of little treats to tuck into my MDK Warshrag Swap package. I've also been checking in on my partner's blog and have discovered that she likes beads too; I may just have to include a couple of beaded stitch markers in my package. Photos to come....

Christmas in August (Or perhaps I should say Chanukkah....)

Today my friend IV, who just happens to be Jewish (hence the Chanukkah reference), gave me a huge gift:
















That's right, folks. What you see is a floor loom
















and a spinning wheel.















Can you believe it?

And when I say "gave," I mean exactly that. The loom, she explained, had been a gift to her several years ago. She had never learned how to work it and had finally decided that she wanted the space in her home more than she wanted the loom, so she was ready to pass it along to someone else who would love and use it. The loom is marked "H.M. Stuart," but when I googled the name I came up with nothing. I've never used a floor loom and have only worked 2 or 3 projects on my RH loom thus far, but I'm excited to learn and can't wait to get started.

The spinning wheel is a Country Craftsman, which is now sadly discontinued. I found the email addy of the maker and contacted him to see if I could get an instruction manual and perhaps some direction as to how to repair the wheel. Yes, the wheel needs repair, which is why IV gave it to me. Unfortunately, she purchased the wheel from someone who was less than honest with her and she eventually found that she couldn't spin on it and didn't want to invest any more money in fixing it. Since she'd done nothing but curse the person who sold her that wheel, she said, she figured she'd give it away and at least I couldn't be mad if I, too, found the wheel too much trouble to deal with.

Honestly, I would have been delighted with just one new-to-me fiber toy, but two? How lucky can a girl get?

So, I spent much of the afternoon hangin' with IV, checking out her new garden paths and talking natural dyestuffs. M-I-L was watching Baby M, so I had the whole day to myself. I even managed to get some beading done -- a real rarity these days with the baby around ready to shove any errant beads into the nearest available orifice in a split second. No photos of those finished pieces yet; I was too excited about the loom and wheel to remember to snap pics of my jewelry. But I did crank out not one but two necklaces -- one in rose quartz, silver and glass and the other in rough-cut amethyst, blue coral and silver -- and a handful of oversized beaded stitch markers, perfect for those projects on size 13s and above. Will try to remember to take photos tomorrow to post.

Oh, and I've decided to join the ninth Secret Pal swap. I love swaps and this one sounds particularly fun. Meanwhile, I think I'll be sending the MDK warshrags that I knitted specifically to match my kitchen over to my MDK swap partner instead. I checked out her blog and there was a great post showing a skein of yarn she'd bought at some fiber festival. Lo and behold -- the colos were exactly the same as in my kitchen. With me off knitting for the time being and the swap needing to go out in a couple of weeks, I figured this was definitely the way to go. My kitchen will simply have to wait to get coordinating warshrags.

For Pure Inspiration...

...check out this blog:

http://www.bentemor.com/blogg

Don't freak when you first see it -- Bente writes all her posts in Norwegian but translates them into English at the bottom of each. Don't I wish I were that fluent in any foreign language?? Be sure to check out the giant "Icosa" spherical pillow -- absolutely stunning!

Cheaters Never Win....

Well, I set off with the intention of making some headway on A's baby kimono even though I'd been warned away from knitting for the time being by my orthopedist. And wouldn't you know it, cheating on my knitting "diet" got me absolutely nowhere!

Somehow, I managed to mis-read the kimono pattern -- never mind that I'd made it twice before with absolutely no problem -- and I discovered halfway through the darn thing that instead of two sleeves of equal length I had a right sleeve long enough to clothe an orangutan and no left sleeve at all. Grrrrrr....

Serves me right, I suppose. I don't have photographic evidence because I discovered my error on the car ride home and immediately frogged back to before the sleeve increases, which was waaaaaay farther than I'd hoped I'd ever have to frog this thing. I did play a bit of catch-up in the car (making absolutely sure I was doing the sleeves correctly) but held off on knitting tonight in favor of doing some more spinning on my sky-blue alpaca. More to tell of that in another post.

Aside from the knitting, we all had a wonderful long weekend with Auntie G and Uncle Godfather. We went to the Fort Rickey Children's Discovery Zoo, which is an absolutely amazing, family-run petting zoo. If you're ever in the Utica, NY area, go. We got to pet a porcupine, hold a giant snake, play with tiny baby goats and watch an amazing interaction between two fully-grown timber wolves and their trainer (who also happens to be the owner of the zoo). I also got to pick a palm-sized piece of bison fluff off a fence and keep it, with permission of the zoo owner, of course, who then kindly agreed to let me know if they ever collected a bagful so that I could use it to spin. I spent the trip home carefully picking guard hairs out of my fluff (and full of guard hairs it well and truly was!), and now I just have to wash my little bison puff before getting it ready to spin. I'll finally get to try out my dog-hair combs on some fiber -- yaaaayy!

While the zoo was ultra-cool, the highlight of the trip for Daddy (aka DH) and Baby M was playing on the grass outside the art museum that we visited on Sunday. DH was busy rolling on the ground and doing silly tricks to make M laugh, while for her part, M was busy playing with sticks and trying to emulate her daddy's antics. The two of them truly crack me up.

We took it slow coming home today, arriving around mid-afternoon with just enough time to unpack and still make it to the playground for an hour or so before dinner. It was DH's first time seeing Baby M walking around the playground like a big girl (she's been walking on her own for less than a week, remember), and he was delighted. He was like a big kid, playing on all the equipment and helping M play as well. All in all, it was a wonderful long weekend, beginning to end.

Travel Fiber

Well, we're off to visit Auntie Gigglepants and Uncle Godfather this weekend. Here's what we're taking to keep the baby occupied:

















And here's what we're taking to keep me occupied:





























Since the doctor has told me to lay off the knitting for awhile, the bulk of what I'm bringing is spinning stuff. On the right you can see my Golding Swan Lake spindle, already wound up with a cop of purple New Zealand wool. There's a sad, sad story behind this spindle.

My DH gave it to me as a Valentine's Day gift. Needless to say, I was stunned. I immediately started spinning up the purple fiber you see here, and I absolutely loved it. That spindle truly sang. Then, the unthinkable happened. As will happen with drop spindles, it dropped -- right onto our hardwood floor -- and the wooden post holding the hook cracked. I was devastated, but DH contacted the good people at Goldings and they fixed it right away. For free, no less.

I resumed spinning, but more cautiously. I padded the floor below me with layers of towels, but still I was nervous. Naturally, as I was spinning the yarn separated once again and the spindle headed for the floor. This time, my reflexes took over and I clapped my knees together as it went, trying to keep it from hitting. I heard a sickening crunch and found that I'd caught the spindle right at the whorl, crushing the delicate carvings.

It's taken me months to even be able to write about it, I was so heartsick. DH offered to buy me a new one for our next holiday, but I told him I obviously couldn't be trusted with it. He then glued mine back together for me, dear heart that he is, and if you didn't know to look closely you couldn't even really tell it was ever broken. It doesn't quite sing any more as I spin -- it wobbles just the tiniest bit -- but the upside is, I'm not afraid of dropping it and I can certainly take it on a trip, something I never would have done if it hadn't been broken. Now, of course, I'm sure I'll never drop it again...ain't that always the way?















But, back to my travel fiber toys. In addition to the Golding, there's a Bossie featherweight that I simply adore. I was leery of using such a light spindle, but Sheila over at Journey Wheel said it would be the best thing for the silk fiber I wanted to spin, so I gave it a shot. Right now it's got a merino/silk blend on it that I'm spinning insanely finely. I have no idea what I'll ever do with this sewing thread, but I'm sure I'll figure something out.

On the left is my newest fiber toy, a Spindolyn supported spindle. I got this recently in trade for some superwash merino and I've been waiting for a good chance to try it out. I figure a four-hour car ride is as good as it gets.

And, of course, there's the ubiquitous MDK book and SnC cotton. I know, I know, I'm not supposed to knit. But I have a baby shower to go to on the 9th, people! I have to at least finish this baby kimono and a couple of coordinating bibs. I promise I'll go slow and take frequent spinning breaks.

And did I mention that Auntie Gigglepants is a beading guru? There may be some jewelry-making in my future this weekend....

Blue Skies and Baby Steps

When I was a kid, my favorite color was sky blue. I still remember exactly how the sky-blue Crayola looked, brand-new out of the box, and how much I loved using it.

As I got older, sky blue went the way of crayons and coloring books. My wardrobe filled up with blacks and the occasional red, and I didn't think much about sky-blue until I unexpectedly received a whole bag full of glitzy, sky-blue alpaca roving.















Shasta "guarding" the spinning wheel

The roving sat in my stash until yesterday, when the orthopedist told me to cool it with the knitting for a few weeks. I decided I needed to spin up something bright and fun to cheer me up, and glitzy sky-blue alpaca seemed to fit the bill just fine.















The beginnings of a bobbin of alpaca singles


Can I tell you, I love this roving!! It spins like a cloud, like air itself. I've even been able to do a little bit of long draw, something I was never able to accomplish before. Half of me can't wait to finish spinning because I'm dying to see the finished yarn and the other half doesn't want the spinning to end. If I had to be laid up and out-of-knitting-commission, this is certainly a good way to do it.

Maybe I'm just in an extra-good mood today because M finally, at age 16 months, decided to walk all by herself for the very first time. In the past, she would walk while holding hands; she would cruise along the furniture; she would even take half a dozen tentative steps towards a beloved adult, all the while stretching out her arms and practically falling at our feet when she reached us. Then, all of a sudden, she decided that she could do it on her own -- and she did. She spent the day walking everywhere, turning right, turning left, falling down and getting right back up again. I can't remember when I've been so proud.

I took her to the playground this afternoon and it was the first time she went around without clinging to my finger the whole time. I watched in awe as she walked away from me, heading off to investigate an inviting-looking step or an interesting patch of gravel. And I thought, she'll only walk farther and faster from here on out. It made me the tiniest bit sad, made my heart ache just a little bit even as it was bursting with pride. She's on her way, one baby step at a time.

Whaddaya Want for Free?

OK, Blogger is seriously making me nuts. I've been trying to post for two days now but Blogger won't upload my photos. This has happened at least weekly since I've gone back to blogging. What the heck?! Yes, I realize that for free, I probably shouldn't complain. Still, it's frustrating in the extreme to not be able to complete posts because the photo upload is buggy or overloaded or whatever else is causing the problem.

Let's get with the program, Blogger -- work, dammit!!

Hands

I've been thinking a lot about hands lately. Take a look at this:















It's a table runner made for me several years back by my mom. My mom has been doing "handiwork," as she calls it, since she was in first grade. Her main thing is crocheting, but this particular Christmas -- the Christmas of the table runner -- she decided to do something different. Did I mention she hand-makes all her Christmas gifts every year? You gotta admire that.

Anyway, that year I think she'd scored a bunch of free fabric and she thought, why not put it to good use? And so she hand-sewed -- yes, you read that right, hand-sewed, without the aid of a sewing machine -- a table runner for me and one for each of my cousins. We're talking serious time here, and serious effort. I always knew that, but then again, that's my mom. Over the years, she's made everything from little hand-crocheted doilies to full-out tablecloths (sheer madness, I know -- who crochets a cloth for a table that will seat 12??).

The year mom gave me the runner, I put it out on the table a few times; after that, it mainly lived in the corner hutch in my dining room. Nothing against it or her -- I'm just more of a tablecloth gal...the wash 'n wear, no-iron kind.

Then yesterday I pulled that runner out and looked at it -- I mean, really looked at it. The stitches are minute. The thread matches the color of the fabric. There have to be at least a hundred of those little circles, each of which mom meticulously cut out of fabric the old-fashioned way: by hand, with a sewing shears, using the bottom of a glass as her template.















Not all that long ago, my mom mentioned that her arthritis was acting up. She talked about how doing needlework was too painful for her these days -- the mere act of holding a sewing needle in her fingers was too taxing. She still crochets, but her sewing days are for the most part over.

These days I'm having my own hand problems, too. The orthopedist just told me I have "knitter's finger," which means a cortisone shot (my second this year) in the short term and possibly surgery in the long. It also means no knitting for the next little while. "I know you gotta knit," he said, after asking me where my LYS was (who woulda thought the orthopedic surgeon would be knit-knowledgeable??), "but you might want to hold out for six weeks, just to see if it helps."

I think of my grandmother's hands, twisted and knurled from arthritis; my mother's fingers the same way; my grandfather's even worse. I feel the telltale pains not only in my finger, but in my elbow, my wrist -- not arthritis, the doctor assures me, just narrow tendons, something he can fix in an hour with a light anasthetic (for me, not him) and a couple of quick incisions. I recognize the wisdom of avoiding surgery and vow to avoid things that aggravate the condition (though the elbow flares up in pain when I type, yet here I sit blogging away). Fifty years ago, people went their whole lives without repetitive motion injuries...or maybe they were just tougher than we are. When there's nothing to be done, why bother complaining?

Anyway, I'm off knitting for the next little bit. I'll spin, I'll weave, and I'll go easy on the typing while I'm at it, just to give myself a chance to heal without aid from a needle or a knife. I'll keep my table runner out on the table where it belongs, a testament to my mother's determination and love of her family.

Much nicer than a store-bought tablecloth any day.

One Month and Counting

So there I was, just starting to cast on for my third ballband warshrag to match my kitchen, when I suddenly remembered the baby shower I'm attending on September 9. Yikes! Off came the brick-red SnC and on went the slate blue. So far, I have a miniscule stockpile of 2 MDK baby kimonos (both of which still need seaming) and zero bibs/burp cloths. Sad, sad, sad.

So, Christmas knitting will be put aside (OK, except for that one washcloth that I'm in the middle of knitting to finish off a pair to go with my ballband bathmat...and except for my m-i-l's scarf for those days when I want to work with wool instead of cotton...and except for my mom's lace stole just because if I don't keep doing a couple of rows every few days it'll never be finished in time for the holidays) and baby knitting will commence in earnest. I've already gotten to the first set of sleeve increases and I hope to have at least half the kimono finished by tomorrow. I'm thinking two or three matching kimono/bib sets...only 31 days and counting....