pointysticks.net

Mohair top came in the mail Wednesday. It’s absolutely luscious, I had to grab a handful and start spinning just to see how it handles. It’s slicker than I expected, spins up nicely with a gentle halo and much longer fibers than I’m used to. I’m very pleased.

The Lincoln top came Thursday, and it’s typical. No, why lie to myself about it? I like Lincoln, I bought a whole Lincoln fleece at BSG in Eugene. I am having a love/hate relationship with this top. It’s lovely and hellish at the same time.

No matter what I knit I love to knit hats and socks and mittens– the Lincoln might be good for hats but I’ll have to cut it with something soft and lofty if I want to use it with anything else– meaning anything that comes in contact with skin. I think the sheep were geriatric because the fibers are very thick and stiff– very much unlike the natural colored Lincoln that I bought in the grease. Purse or handbag? I might be able to use it for a coat (so long as I make a lining for it). It’s pretty, just not soft.

I dyed some more roving, again with the RIT dye. Now that it’s all dry I can see that I need to go back to the drawing board, it wasn’t quite as dark and the dye distribution was horribly uneven. I bought some black Dylon powder (another all purpose) that I am going to use for Josey’s pirate socks. Oh– yes. Pirate socks, I even charted out the skull and crossbones for his socks.

Heat definitely does matter when it comes to dying wool, although all of a sudden I’m panicking about felting the roving– so far I haven’t unintentionally felted roving other than with the yellow Kool-Aid batch and even that is still spinnable.

My right arm feels like it’s going fall off. That’s what I get for being so obsessive compulsive, but I spun up some of the blue, then I decided to make a blue and white tweed, and then I decided to reverse my original design and spun up even more of the tweed. I was plying the tweed just a few minutes ago but decided to come in and read email, which lead to blog writing.

Now– I’ve decided that the tweed is just too handsome to use on socks alone, so I’m going to dye up some more blue and spin that up with some more of the undyed roving and make something more substantial. Oh yeah, I still have pirate socks to dye-spin-ply-knit and socks for my MIL and FIL to dye-spin-ply-knit.

Mohair came in today. I have a pretty healthy fiber stash started.

I noticed today that I am knitting far more than I did before I started spinning again. Odd, I would have guessed that spinning would consume more knitting time but it really doesn’t. I knit all of the time anyway, and spindle when I don’t knit, if I’m not doing something creative I’m probably asleep.

Paid for 2 lbs of mohair top today, plus shipping (of course), and a snowspeeder. My husband has rediscovered eBay with a passion. You see, there’s a reason he calls himself my oldest child.

Speaking of passions, last time we were at the craft store (we affectionately refer to it as the “arts and crap” store) Josey asked if he could have one of those loom and hook sets that uses little bands of materials to make pot holders. Since usually the only art supplies he asks for are paints or foam clay, I grabbed the box and threw it into the cart. Josey also found some knitting needles that are for kids (you can tell by the price tag, they are brightly colored and three times what my needles cost) and into the cart those went too.

Well, he’s done nothing with the needles, but he did make a potholder…er… he calls it a washcloth. He didn’t want to make a potholder so it’s a nylon woven washcloth that just happens to be in the shape of a potholder. Before he left for Mr. Dufus’s weekend, he finished the *washcloth* (feeling like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers now with the quote marks) and started a new one.

Josey was concerned that he wouldn’t have enough of the loopy-thingies to complete a second what-ever-you-want-to-call-it, so when we were out shopping I kept my eyes peeled. My keen senses and animal instinct paid off, I found nylon loopy-thingies and cotton loopy-thingies, and in a burst of unmitigated maternal crafting impulse I bought two bags of nylon and the last bag of cotton.

Had a nice conversation with Josey’s teacher this morning. I’m lucky that he has a teacher that doesn’t see his difficulties as his being difficult. The little guy is a charmer but yesterday he had a fit that interrupted the whole class and a little later started goofing off. My son stuck a glue stick to his forehead.

When my husband told me that yesterday, about the glue stick, I failed to keep a straight face. I know how funny Josey can be (the kid is a natural born comedian, quick wit and physical comedy skills that would be the envy of any adult funny man) so just imagining it sent me into tears (although I told Josey that his behavior was not funny and not acceptable in class.

We discussed Josey’s diet, some background issues, and contemplated some approaches. A specialist that works with the school is probably going to evaluate Josey. Academically, my son is outstanding, he’s a smart kid– he only really lacks in social and emotional development. Josey’s friendly and social, but his lack of focus and low frustration threshold get the better of him and makes it hard for him to relate to kids his age. If we can’t help him with this soon it’s going to have an impact on his self-esteem and his ability to be social in the future.

A couple of nights ago I dyed some roving with denim blue RIT dye, the result is a Union Blue roving. Matt is in love with the color so I’m spinning it up for his socks. I asked him if he wanted anything special, like tweeded yarn or a pattern and he started being all uber-polite about it. “Not if it’s going to complicate making them.”

When is he going to learn that the fun of knitting socks is to complicate them?

I finally got him to confess his preference– honestly– he confessed that he wants the tweed mixed with solid.

My husband is sweet but he can be too considerate sometimes, “Honey what do you want for dinner?”

“I don’t know, what do you want to cook?”

“What are you hungry for?”

“I don’t know, what do you want for dinner?”

“I’ll just make a roast.”

“Oh…”

“What? Would you like something else? Because I can make something else.”

“Well, I was thinking there was that chicken..”

“I’ll make the chicken then.”

“You don’t have to, roast is good too.”

It takes longer to discuss what I’m going to cook for dinner than actually cooking dinner. That ultra-polite thing is so annoying and so endearing at the same time.

I stepped funny on my foot today, put some weird pressure on my bones and now there’s a clicking feeling in the middle of the sole everytime I put weight on it. Not painful, but intense enough that I think twice before I put my foot down.

Insomnia has it’s creative advantages, the house is quiet right now and I was able to do some spontanious spindling. I’m going to suffer for it in the morning but I’m going to enjoy it right now. I’m way too tired to sleep, besides I haven’t been able to listen to an entire Coast to Coast since Lexi was born so it’s a rare treat.

Matt doesn’t know if he’ll be able to take me to OFFF since his manager is leaving and he’s being asked to train the new manager of his store. Nice huh?

I was planning on going as a vendor but then decided that I didn’t have enough stock to actually make it worth my while; I could bust my behind and try to play catch up but I decided that Josey and Lexi need me more than we need the money.

I finally got to go out to the shop and play with the new lathe for a little bit– it’s so nice. We need a new (much smaller) tool rest for it and a couple of chuck plates so that we can get serious, but it’s got power. I adore the machine. Who am I kidding? I adore machines.

Blogging seems to keep me in this world of “near connectedness”. I’m not talking about my blogging, but reading the blogs of other fiber artists and knitting eccentrics– I feel like I have a normal social life even though I live like a shut-in 90% of the time. I can participate in email lists and read blogs and feel like I’m not avoiding or ignoring life. I thank God I live in an age where technology allows me to do this along with thousands of others that for one reason or another don’t have booming off-line social lives.

My own blogging keeps me on-task with my WIPs, I was worried that I’d be distracted by writing and forget the spindle and needles– but that hasn’t happened, what’s happened is that I’m excited about telling folks about my progress and goals so I keep working.

As for my next project, I haven’t decided. I am considering making socks for my Dad, MIL, and FIL or making mini-socks from my ever growing collection of snippets. I just don’t know which to go for first. I do know that once I get back into the shop I’m going to make some poppets for Josey so that he can costume and paint them, he’s itching for a new project.

This is Tasha, aka: The Ball Nazi

When she was first given to us, Tasha was terribly fat, and had pain because she’d fallen out of the back of a pick-up truck, injuring her shoulder– she had no interest in walking or playing ball or doing any dog things other than eating.

Tasha’s still a big girl, but not the fatty that she was, her shoulder doesn’t hurt her nearly as much because she’s not carrying around the weight. Now she’s like a puppy– and she hoards all the tennis balls. If Greta gets a ball, Tasha will take it from her and lay down on it– sometimes she’ll get up and there’ll be four or five balls under her.

I can’t believe that Johnny Cash is gone, I always imagined that I would get to see him performing live someday. I’m listening to him sing with Bob Dylan Girl From The North Country right now, the song fits my mood– somewhere between lost and reflective. If you fancy The Man in Black, try The Essential Johnny Cash, there’s a whole gaggle of his old songs and some of the newer songs (don’t forget to read the birthday messages to Johnny in the insert).

Between Lexi, knitting and listening to Johnny– I’m not going to do anything tonight. I think I’ll buy dinner and take care of housework tomorrow. On one hand I’m happy that Johnny and June are together again, and on the other I’m sad because the world has lost not only another greatly talented person but an outstanding person.

Finished writing my entry for a contest– it’s awful but I’m going to send it in anyway. I hate writing contests– why do I do this to myself?