two knits of ivory

My inner voice hasn't been that interested in blogging lately. Part of it is the heat, part of it is that my inner voice has been busy thinking about the types of things that get in the way of knitting and blogging. It's also been wondering if I really feel like sharing myself with the world anymore. Has my exhibitionism run its course? The answer is that I'm not sure since for ten days the answer seemed to be yes. Yet that is obviously contradicted with the most decidedly no of today. Eleven days ago I finished my Apple Lace Scarf. It was the best pick up and go project I think I've had to date. The pattern was easy to remember, so I could take it everywhere and anywhere (including nowhere, AKA my couch) but varying enough to keep me excited about picking it up. Once done I couldn't stop my self from indulging in an little excessiveness; I tried out the blocking pins I purchased a few months ago A steam iron would have been just as effective, but far less fun....

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...