Yarn finds a way

Actual fiber things have been happening here.

Not, of course, as much as I would like, life having sped up most distressingly. In fact, as I look at my weekly calendar, I see that there isn't a lot of room left in my cleaning, cooking, driving, and working duties for things like "working out" and "knitting" and "spinning." Fortunately, I have managed to slip in some "lying in the bath reading dopey mysteries" as well as some "wandering around sipping tea." But those aren't as exciting to photograph -- like I would put a picture of me in the tub on my blog.

Some navajo-plied silk, in the Lake Berryessa colorway from Lambtown.


Even closer (and I think wet-blocking silk is probably not a good idea, since it's now a tiny bit fuzzy. Advice, anyone?):


I lost the wire yarn guide for my spinning wheel, and discovered that while wiring one's wedding ring to the flyer with a twist-tie does work in a pinch, having the part would work much better. And wouldn't you know it? A sock's worth of Finn top jumped in my online shopping cart when I bought a new one from The Woolery.


Thing 3 really will get a sweater this year:


I discovered this morning that I'm 2 1/4 stripes from finishing that sleeve. Striped sweaters are the salvation of the countingly-challenged. But I'd better order a couple more balls of the Cashmerino Aran so I can make the requested hood. Boring pattern, but butter-soft.

I think spouse and I are going to start getting up earlier over the weekend so by Monday I'll replace some of my "sleep" with "exercise." Even though I'll be tired, I like me much better when I remember to move the bod! Maybe it will free up some time for knitting, too.

How many can you think up?

When I was getting Things 3 & 4 in bed tonight, I lay there thinking of what I could be doing. I usually arrange my "to-do" list for the evening, or think about all of the stuff I have to do, or something equally karmically useless.

On really good nights, I breathe deeply and smell my children's hair.

But not tonight. Tonight, I wondered how many opening lines of novels or plays I could remember. I came up with only four, not counting the vast number of children's stories I have completely memorized (how many of you can still recite Goodnight Moon?):

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.

(This, technically, is just the opening line of a section of a book) -- Mr. Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls.

Call me Ishmael.

When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

And that's it. Pretty small potatoes for someone spending most of her life immersed in lit'rachure. Can you recognize all of them? How many opening lines live in your brain?

Oh, I'm at the arm division of another plain-vanilla-but-yummy-yarn top-down raglan sweater for Thing 3. I'm wondering if I should go back and add a few inches. There's not enough yarn to do a hood anyhow, so I'm going to have to buy more -- might as well make it with room to grow. I'd be knitting on it but there's a cat sleeping on my forearms.

This one goes "Sproing"

I learned something new the other night, and wanted to run around the street telling people about it.

Have you ever had the kind of experience when your brain goes, "Aha!" and it's just like getting that hard-to-reach itch properly scratched? Yep, that's what led me to graduate school. It's a terrific feeling. Unfortunately, graduate school offered few opportunities for scratches like that, so I turned to fiber instead.

After reading instructions and watching videos and thinking, "None of this makes any sense at all," my inner voice finally broke through and said, "Just try it." So I did. I Navajo plied.

About a half-bobbin of old koolaid-dyed singles hanging around presented the perfect subject. The wheel seemed too fast, so I used my top-hook drop spindle and the slower speed plus parking it made managing the loops much easier. As I wound the yarn on, I gave the little cop a feel (snort) and it was incredible! Soft, squishy, springy -- just such a pleasure to hand.


I can't wait to try it on some yarn with distinct color gradations. Maybe I'll have to dye some roving specifically for this.

And this way madness lies, you see. But man, is it fun.

I can blog late on Christmas morning because something very strange is happening at my house. Every child is doing something fun, and quiet. Reading, playing a puzzle, jumping on a pogo stick, it's a Christmas Miracle!

[Oh, wait, a couple of them are erm, discussing whose candy is whose. That's what you get with chocolate for breakfast.]

I have been so spotty of blog of late and so -- scattered -- in general that I figured I'd just do lots of pictures. But then I started typing and. . . well, I get going. This has been the most difficult year I can remember in a long while. Nothing really terrible happened to me or mine, just lots of hard stuff right after another and I've been surprised at how much it took the wind out of my sails. So I hung on to what I could -- my family, some fiber, food and music, and I'm looking forward to the New Year.

Enjoy these promised pics, and I hope you and yours are healthy and happy, and you have much good to look at now as well as to look forward to.


Suzee was right -- we were in Tennessee. This tree came from my uncle's farm -- my kids helped cut it down -- and you can't pay for that kind of stuff. After the kids decorated, we hung out.
My mom took us to a an ice show at Opryland. It was cold enough to remind me why I don't live somewhere more northerly.

Thing 4 gave in to an impulse I completely understood:


In August, I thought I'd never see my father alive again. I was wrong. I'm very glad.


I finished my first round of 3-ply yarn. The brown is local Merino, the fawn black Bluefaced Leicester, and the white some Sheepshed mill ends, so there's some mohair.


My plying needs work.


Christmas joys involve lots of boinging around at our house.


Finally, while these are emphatically Not For Christmas, they're merely a Kitchener away from being done and on Thing 1's cold little feet. As I despise knitting socks, I'm pleased.


Merry, merry.

Notes from Somewhere Else

Clues about where the children and I are? Well, there's a lot of churches here, we just had a big lunch yesterday with my cousins and their children and my aunt and uncle, wild turkeys are walking outside of my window, we're going to spend the night at the farm I used to mosey around on as a child, and my children just put up a cedar tree in my mother's house that we cut on another relative's farm.

It's lovely, but the pictures are going to have to wait as my cable is at home, but there is actual knitting content -- I'm 50% through a sock. Yes, it is the only thing I can think of to knit right now, and Thing 1 is more than impatient for it, having walked through and then outgrown her only other pair of handknit. These are squooshy and soft, knit out of Cleckheaton Tapestry in some mix of blues and purples, and she'll love them.

I even did some spinning last night, even though I'd left the yarn guide that fits on the flyer at home. I MacGyvered a guide out of my wedding ring and a twist tie, and it's workable. I just hope I can find that little piece at home where I wrapped it safely to bring on this trip. . .

So even though I have about 28 papers to grade, this is shaping up to be a very nice pre-holiday family break. I hope you and yours are as relaxed.

Thankful

For a couple of years now, we've rented a cabin for Thanksgiving, just my family. This year, we've been joined by my in-laws. So we're a full house. Most of this bunch is still asleep, so in the quiet before I start cooking (any more than toast and tea right now) I was taking time to think of all the things I'm grateful for.

Well, I'm also going to grade papers because I would be most thankful to be done with them, but I digress.

It's a long list, but as I watch Thing 4 clear some of last night's tea cups out of the living room oh so carefully, one blessing comes clearly to mind.

The drive up was worse yesterday than in earlier years because we left later and hit both rush hour and holiday traffic. We were well and truly crawling along when from the back of the van I heard those words: "I really have to pee!" An older child might have gotten the You Should Go When You Have A Chance lecture, but the two year old just gets "Hang on, honey, we're looking for a potty!"

There was an exit directly ahead of us, and I just had to change lanes and skim along the shoulder for a little bit, not actually reaching warp speed before landing at the intersection and turning right into the nearest gas station. As I jumped out of the driver's side to run around and free her, right behind me sat a motorcycle officer, lights flashing.

Oh dear.

I said, "I'm so sorry, officer, I must have done something wrong, but I have a two year old that has to go potty!'

He said, "Well, do what you have to do," and I grabbed her and ran to the bathroom, leaving him sitting there.

The whole time I was holding and wiping and telling her what a big, wonderful girl she was for holding it -- I do love me a potty-trained child -- I was worrying. My driving record was so far free of moving violations. How was I going to face this cop while holding my (evertalking) child?

All done, we left the bathroom to face the music.

And he was gone.

My spouse hadn't talked to him. My father in law had no idea where he'd gone. The kids hadn't seen anything. This isn't one of those spooky stories where a cop was killed there in previous years. I suppose either he'd gotten a higher-priority call, or decided that my hurry which had propelled us through a red right hand turn light was, in fact, legitimate -- maybe he has a toddler? -- or something.

Anyhow, there is gratitude for the missed bad things as well as those blessings which we have received.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Spun for the Holiday

The hippie dream koolaid yarn is done and plied. For some reason, there is no way for me to spin two bobbins at the same diameter. We'll see what effect that has on my budding sock yarn.


Meanwhile, I'm going to spend my holiday finishing (hahaha) The Pearl Buck Swing Jacket and maybe knitting up something for Thing 3. He's the one most sweaterless and I scored some Debbie Bliss Cashmerino for his sensitive skin. Oh, and grading papers. Lots and lots of papers. Hooray for employment!

If you're celebrating, have a great holiday.