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Showing posts from January, 2010


When Ted and Sylvia Plath Hughes purchased their first home in North Tawton, Devon, England in the early sixties, Sylvia, the whirling dervish that she was, immediately set about making the house a home. She painted the walls, doors, woodwork, furniture, and probably even some of the floors. This part of her story is always guaranteed to make me feel like a sloth.

From the numerous biographical material I've read over the years, the house held a room on the second floor which was hers, and hers alone. A writing study. One of the room's most prominent features was a vivid red floor rug. Or was it walls (or both)? I'm pretty sure it was the carpet, but I'm far too focused on my thoughts to ferret the truth out of my bookcase.

Sylvia was invigorated by color, especially red. She believed it actively fed her creativity. As a knitter, I identify with this; color is my primary inspiration. What I realized last month is that the color of my projects can either inhib…

2009, a knitter's year in review

1. 2009mosaic, 2. Strange Fruit Clothilde, 3. Cable Warshrags, 4. Indian Rib, 5. Dishcloth, 6. Midnight Moon Clothilde, 7. Flinstone Rib, 8. Febrillious, 9. Eire Shetland, 10. Pumpkin Waffle knitting, 11. Pumpkin Waffle knitting, 12. Sunday Ribalib, 13. Cranberry Forest, 14. Retro Rib Socks, 15. Cool Haas Luke, 16. EOS_2184b, 17. Spruce Baby Llama Shetland, 18. Cinnamon Toast Ishbel, 19. Jen's Gloves, 20. Limeade Warshrag, 21. Another Shetland, 22. Jellied Beans, 23. Leaf on the Wind, 24. Marina Waves Socks, 25. Woodland Embossed Leaves Socks, 26. Gold Hill Cable Rib Socks, 27. Shetland Triangle Hat, 28. Tweed Seed Rib Sweater, 29. Cocoa Lace Scarf, 30. Shetland Tweed Mitts, 31. Pink Granite Lace Hat, 32. Pink Granite Shetland Triangle
1 Baby Blanket
5 Dishcloths
1 pair of Gloves
4 Hats
2 pair of Mitts
1 Scarf
9 Shawls
7 pair of Socks
3 Sweaters

31 Projects, 33 Items, 17 (52%) were gifts. I've seriously pondered calculating the yardage, but laziness won out. For now.

Last ye…

Envy and socks. I haz both.

True to form at chez yarn, we are now on day who knows what of ignoring the suffering in Haiti. I am catching glimpses of it when the Hubster puts on the news here and there, catching the cover of a newspaper at the gas station, hearing an interview on NPR.

It seems like the world is really coming together to help Haiti and the pessimistic cockles of my heart are warming. What I am left with is my internal struggle. Because, ya know, the Haiti disaster is all about me.

You mean you didn't know? It's about how I am incapable of facing it. How I am incapable of being the person I should be/should have been on the one hand, and in the other hand, how the world is inadequate, deserving of my inert, self-righteous scorn.

I am as helpless in this as I am in my knitting. A mute passenger on the Morticcia express. Someday maybe I'll learn how to transmogrify my shortcomings into strengths, as I have begun to with my knitting.
Ginger Waves Socks
I spent a good portion o…

blah blah blah

My year in review post is languishing in the edits folder. I'm languishing in real life. Adrift. The agony of humanity has me in it's lurid possession. There's no funneh at chez yarn.

All I am capable of is mute rage. I am doing my best not to think of Haiti. I can successfully ignore the acute human suffering. I know I don't have the capacity to carry that burden so I keep it safely outside my heart. What I can't prevent penetrating and gnawing at the edges of my sympathy is the confidence that whichever multinational, for-profit organization(s) gets it's(their) dirty prongs on this crippled, destabilized country will be exploiting it for the next two generations or more.


More yarn...

green green green green

I'll be sad when green goes out of fashion again making purchasing things in this evocative color elusive.

I luvs me some green.

The yarn is Sundara's fingering silky merino in the limited edition colorway of "The Tree I Climbed."

Dear reader, are you confused by my choice of reaction words?

sparkly:  If you like, you like.  Because who doesn't love vampires that sparkle? Definitely more bang for your buck than the snarkless shiny.

fuf: Literally stands for fuck you fattie.  It is a term of endearment with the rubberhoars, but should be used predominately to show disagreement or outrage at ideas or items presented by the blog author.  Or if you feel like being contrary, please show your endearment by clicking.  You only live once.

wtf: Literally stands for what the fuck.  Please use this when you think I've lost my marbles, or conversely, if you've lost yours and you need to hate on someone.

twu luv: Show your love while simultaneously partaking in a gleeful dig at the absurdity of romantic fiction.

So you really wanna know?

I'm back dating this post and dating all of the entries. It's my version of 100 things about me.

May 20, 2010
1) When I used to read blogs I LOVED.LOVED.LOVED reading the 100 things about me. I'm a nosy bitch, so I scarf up any personal detail I can.

2) I am presently 42 years old. Yes I am an old bitter bitch. And I'm finally learning to love it.

3) I am a speshul angul snowflake. So send me your Sundara yarn. Now.

4) My favorite Jane Austen books are Mansfield Park and Persuasion. Depends on my mood.

5) I'm pretty sure I fell in love with the Twilight book series when I read Midnight Sun. I identify with Edward, not Bella. No, I'm not beautiful and I don't sparkle(!), it's more like "I am so tortured by my own imagined superiority." Yes I am that laughable. Please laugh at me. I try to, and I am happiest when I am successful. Seriously though, read the first page of Midnight Sun. It is the most funnest Meyer book ever. O…