pointysticks.net

More plying:

And 570 yard of yummy:

And I started this:

Which has actually left me feeling pretty darned down about my situation. I was excited about getting such a pretty yellow and showed an online friend the picture, she asked “Why are you still doing EE (easter egg) dyeing? I thought you’d grow up.”

The truth is I’d love to move back into handpainting and space dyeing with ‘real dyes’ but I can’t afford them at this point. My friend is single, has a well paying job, and can afford to splurge on whatever she wants. I don’t feel bad because our situations are different or because she has more money and toys than I do, I feel bad because she acts like I’m some stupid helpless thing that can’t make decisions about my life and future.

The fact is that I chose to get married and have children, I choose to stay home with my babies instead of putting them away in daycare so I could go out and earn more money. I chose my life. It’s not like these choices just happened to me– it doesn’t make me some inferior stupid thing to continue with responsible choices does it?

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way.”

Of course not, no one means it when they are rude and insulting. What’s worse I think is that I don’t think she really understands how what she said was insulting. I believe that people typically say what they mean, maybe that’s my problem.

Is now:

Of course now I have a very full bobbin, and still a very big ball of single to go so I’ll have to switch bobbins before continuing.

I can understand people that get more spinning done on wheels than spindles, that’s just not what I do. I can spin pounds and pounds on my spindles, but only relatively limited amounts on the wheel. I just really don’t have the patience or the posterior fortitude that it takes to sit for that long. It has nothing at all to do with which is the better spinning tool, it has everything to do with sitting for that long (or rather my inability to sit for that long). In the above picture you can see my cushy comfy spinning chair– so it’s not even an ergonomic adversion on my part.

On the other hand, plying flies on the wheel, so plying it is.

My dear sweet darling husband is so lucky that I’m madly in love with him, because if I wasn’t I’d poke at him with my pointiest knitting needles for not sharpening the turning tools. I was so ready to start turning today; I had blanks set out, my sketches and measurements ready, I cleaned all the kurf from around the lathe yesterday so that I could just go into the shop and get going.

I would have had better luck turning with a dull spoon!

Those tools, I sharpen them, I hone them. I don’t mind sharpening and honing them for him, but my dear husband needs to say something like “Honey, the tools are dull.” and not just put them away dull. He doesn’t even have to ask. How difficult is that?

It’s not just a matter of convenience, it’s not just that it’s a good way to destroy wood– it’s a safety issue too. How many times have we made fun of fellow woodworkers for flipping a dull tool under a piece and having it flung loose right in the gut? Many many times.

I finished the one batch of navy roving last night and have another huge ball awaiting plying. I’m tempted to start spinning the last of my silk cap but silk spinning takes so much endurance. That may sound ironic after a morning and afternoon of woodturning, but woodturning doesn’t take nearly the push and pull power that drafting silk does (unless it’s nice silk top) and frankly, I’m a wimp and I don’t have any silk top.

Maybe I should actually wash and card some of that stuff occupying the closets and pantry (Matt astutely observed the other day that the pantry officially has more wool in it than food.) To me this ratio of food to wool makes sense, since the crockpot is officially for dyeing and most of the kitchen utensils are potential fiber tools. (It’s true, I’ve actually considered using the waffle iron as a felting surface.) He should consider it all part of loving a spinner.

Random thought while turning: I should make a fly type mandril and bobbin for the lathe, that way when I’m too impatient or distracted to turn a spindle, I could use the lathe for spinning.

Okay then. I’ll show you– http://www.quantumspindles.com if you want to see our eBay offerings just go to the contact page and click on my eBay id, it’s linked up to open our current offerings in a new page.

Isn’t Lexi just adorable?

I haven’t really done much knitting lately, I was working on a pair of socks but my gauge was off, so into the frog pond they go. I have been spinning quite a bit. All of that lovely brown roving has made it into a lovely HUGE ball of single that I’ll ply up as soon as I can decide whether I want to simply 2 ply it or do something else with it. I’m also working spinning a few ounces of some light navy/dark denim roving that I dyed last summer.

My dad gave me some cross-stitch floss and canvas for Christmas, so I’ve been looking for some small– rather simple– cross-stitch charts. I bought some software (in a 3 pack) at Costco that is for making charts out of photos but– I don’t have very many colors, so I want to keep it simple. Basic. Easy.

And then there was warmth! After three days of “brrrr.” there was an unseasonably warm day today 65 degrees f. How did that happen? Are we in for a hurricane on the West Coast? At least I’m not the only one worried by this strange weather, quite a few people have made comments on it today.

I also went above and beyond the call of fiber enabling for personal reasons. I freecycled my spinning wheel. I decided that there’s too much of my family’s bad history and hostility wound up in that wheel and that the only way of purging it would be to gift it to someone else. And it worked. As soon as I told the shocked freecycler that I wasn’t just giving her some fiber and a spindle but the wheel as well, the look on her face totally erased the displeasure I’d had with that wheel for all this time. I smile when I look at the spot where it sat. I feel so much better knowing that I was able to let go. Let go of the feelings, let go of the object. So what if it was a spinning wheel? It was a symbol of my mom’s total disregard for the family that she destroyed. And that can’t be undone, still I could remove the symbolism and I did.

On the other fronts, I’m loving eBay right now. We’ve sold some of the shop-babies, and I have one listed currently– and we’d be seriously hurting (financially) if it weren’t for those sales. My dear sweet husband is out in the shop working on some more, I was out there earlier cutting blanks for turning and debating on what kinds of wood we need to restock. I do have to say that we’re both quite pleased with the reception that our spindles are getting, since some aren’t your conventional mushroom shaped configuration– I didn’t really know if people would be willing to try our non-traditional shapes. In truth I didn’t know if anyone would enjoy working with a spindle that had been engineered as opposed to designed. Thankfully, we seem to have taken the right route.

It is cold today. Not cold like “Brrr. It’s cold.” Cold like “HOLY $#@%ing @#$% it’s cold!”

I put Greta’s (the Great Dane) coat on her and set up the lamp in the shed so that the dogs have a warm place to go when they aren’t in the shop or the house. Until the house warms up more a bit more I think it’s prudent to have Lexi bundled up (although she’s discovered that the one thing she hates wearing more than socks is wearing mittens and socks, at least she’s humoring me) and I’ve kept Crash’s cage covered and heated with a small bulb.

Back here in the bedroom, there’s no heat. I can see my breath as I type but the living room and kitchen are slowly warming to an acceptable temperature.

So much has happened all at once so it’s hard to backtrack and describe it all. Christmas was fine, we went to my Dad’s house and had dinner and enjoyed the holiday. Josey went to his bio-dad’s a few days after Christmas for his visitation. January 31st Matt and I decided to get some groceries so we went into Salem for a few hours. When we came back we found that the neighbors cat had come into our home and attacked Hoppy.

We did our best to save her and Matt took her to the only open e-clinic that would see avians in Salem. They offered amputation of the wing (they didn’t examine her closely enough to see that the humus wasn’t actually damaged but that some blood feathers were twisted and broken) or to put her down. They did nothing to stop the bleeding. Matt took her home and we staunched the bleeding but the damage was done and she passed 7 hours later.

We picked up Josey on the 3rd and took him to a fastfood restaurant to tell him the news before we took him home. I think we were all devastated by losing such a sweet little bird, but Josey in particular took it hard, they were good friends. Tasha was an old dog so when she died it was somewhat expected. When Tag died Josey was too little to understand. We took him home after a few milkshakes and much crying and I told Josey that since Hoppy was so happy because of him that I thought that she’d want him to take care of other birds in her honor. He asked when he could have another bird and we told him soon. It was a hard ride home, since I wanted so much to tell him that we’d already taken in another parakeet and it was waiting at home for him.

Meet Crash. When we got home we introduced Josey to Crash, a little lime and lemon baby budgie with a big attitude. Although Matt and I had handled and played with Crash for the two days prior to Josey coming home– he was still a total spaz. Even for a petstore bird he was a spaz. Matt chose Crash on his own without me there, feeling that it was something that he had to do for Josey and I said ‘okay’ but I was rethinking this whole concept of Matt choosing budgies without assistance after meeting Crash.

Josey has worked his spell on Crash though, and the little feathery guy started riding around on his shoulder and playing with him like they’ve always been bosom buddies. Matt changed the doorknob so that the evil neighbor cat can’t gain entrance into our home unless it learns how to use a screwdriver and things seem to have settled down a bit.

My Secret Santa (Ann!) sent me some gorgeous primative roving (spins like a dream on my favorite dropspindle), some socks, and some bamboo knitting needles.

I have to say that this is by far one of the best Christmas gifts ever.
Then there is the drama about my own Secret Santa gift. Ugh! The tube was caught in one of the post office’s sorting machines and mangled. So they sent it back to me because the destination label was unreadable. So I wrapped it up again, repacked it to shipping to Oz and my mom took it and unwrapped it. We rescued it from Mom (stick to your potholders Woman!) and I yet to re-rewrap it and re-repackage it and re-reship it. Fortunately, my recipient has a good sense of humor and accepted my apologies gracefully and I’ll get it out to her as soon as possible.