two knits of ivory

My Sunday morning waking dream was the design of a sweater using the much neglected Cascade 220 Superwash that's nearing a year in my stash. Ya know, cuz the best time to knit a sweater is the cusp of summer, right? :-/ This lovely yarn has been the subject of several design schemes, none of which came to fruition, including a sweater or two. The heathered tones scream out to become the vining twine leaf pattern I used in Project Stole . I'm thinking of just transposing the stole's motif right onto the front and back of a sweater, paired with a mini cabled rib for the neck, arm, and waistbands. But before I even think of designing something as ambitious as that, I've got to find the end of the Sunshine and Shadow Shawl , which has, by nature of my pattern dyslexia morphed into a leaf and medallion triangle. Who knew that the patterns in a book called "Knitting Lace Triangles " were the size of large hankerchiefs and not adult-bodied-sized shawls. Yes,

Knitting has taken such a back seat to the spinning. I've got major hobby guilt. Once I put down the knitting and did some plying last night I was ennervated beyond all expectation. I'm am SOOOOOOOOO addicted to plying, even more than my recently acquired addiction to spinning. Knitting seems like so much yesterday's news. What is to become of me? Last night I washed my first wheel-plied yarn. I haven't weighed or measured it yet, but I'm hoping it's at least 200 yards. After following the (very poor) advice I found in several spinning books and online sources, I find my finished yarn to be very poorly plied the more I followed the directive to consider my yarn balanced only when it didn't kink. It turns out the kinkier sections look much better after left to set for two days and then washed. The "balanced" yarn looks barely plied at all. Either way I am ecstatic over this seemingly inconsequential pile of yarn. While this yarn soaked in

I woke up with a dime sized, multy-pimply bump yesterday morning, right above the bridge of my nose. And although it had the familiar telltale signs of something else, I immediately coughed it up to my neglecting my skin, as well as everything else over the past few weeks in order to get my fiscal year end work in on time. This morning as I peered at a much redder, larger series of bumps on my neck, below my left ear, I finally acknowledged that which was only subconsciously registered yesterday: I have poison ivy. Hello summer, nice to meet you to you, now F off, would ya? I'm trying not to be a drama queen, but it's plainly a less than valiant failure. I've already begun wishing the rash was considered a communicable disease so that I could stay home from work for a few more days, or more. Yes I would like some cheese with that whine. And ice cream and french fries too, if you wouldn't mind. :-/ I'm just now trying to get back in the groove of my fiber sports. Aft

I probably should have saved last week's post title for today. As of Saturday afternoon I became the proud owner of a third-hand wheel, a Louet s10. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The hubster and I hit the road Friday afternoon, with dogs in tow. We headed north to my Dad's house in the Adirondacks to celebrate my Dad's 70th birthday. My brother had flown in from Pittsburgh and I think Dad was looking forward to having us both at the pancake breakfast being held directly across the street at the local heritage museum . In the afternoon on Saturday, my dad's wife, Chris, brought out the wheel. She inherited it from an old family friend, and as she has another wheel she prefers, she was more than glad to part with this one when she saw learned how interested I was becoming in spinning. Chris gave me a quick demonstration. I marveled at her spinning ease. As is to be expected, when she gave me the reins I fumbled terribly. I was unable to keep the wheel goin

I don't know my bum from my belbow these days. My mind just wants to zone out; it craves indolence. Life, however, has other plans. It needs constant vigilance. Some casualties of this ennui have been my writing and my photography. No matter what I do I can't seem to muster much cogitation, and so blogging has fallen by the wayside. This lassitude has also spilled over into my work life during my biggest crunch time. I usually relish this time of year, and the work that needs to be done, but not this year. It go so bad I panicked and brought home work last weekend. And for the first time in weeks I had a little fire in my belly. It felt awesome. I took turns knitting and working and wouldn't you know it, I got through the entire Bleak House Masterpiece Theatre program, knit almost an entire sock in a 24 hour period, and accomplished all the goals I set for myself with work. Dad's Midnight Derby Socks are finis! And just in time for our upcoming weekend trip to visit him

Most times life is just plain ordinary, wouldn't you agree? Then there's those one in a million days where you're a winner . Me, a winner, whodathunkit? Thanks to the generosity of Knitting Kris , I just came home from work to find a beautiful package in the mailbox. In .5 seconds it looked like this. Impatience should have been my first name. Once I had both hands to work with, this is what I found inside: Beautiful superwash merino sock yarn by Fleece Artist, in the perfect colorway of Woodland, matching stitch markers, a pack of stylish notecards, and a sweet card addressed to my real self. The yarn is fabulous, and the first I've even seen in person of Fleece Artist. I feel so happy schmappy, I'm awash in guilt. Kris's generosity is astounding to me. I only wish I had more mental energy to expound upon what a lovely package this is and what it means to me. Thanks again, Kris. Absolutely fabulous!!