pointysticks.net

The Enquirer - Knitting allows young teens time to chat, too

Cow abductions are serious business, don’t be fooled– first the aliens will take a few cows and when bored with bovines they will take our sheep. Don’t let this happen, lets stop those bad aliens before they threaten our wool supply.

I am seriously craving a jumbo flyer for my Traveller wheel. I have four 80+ yard skeins of 3-ply teal yarn and (darnit!)I could have one big skein if only I had a larger bobbin and flyer set up. I know I could splice the yarn together but that takes motivation that I just don’t have at the moment.

I think it’s time for me to brandish the knitting needles for a good old fashioned poking, I haven’t poked anyone with the knitting needles for quite a while now. Now the key to proper poking technique is to poke hard enough to hurt without breaking the skin. The targets of my poking are the five or so members of the local Freecycle(tm) group that constantly gripe, whine, attempt to organize coups, try to order me to do things and generally just make my life as a list owner living hell.

First of all, I’m a volunteer. I run the local group for free, without any reimbursement (or gratitude) or expectations of reimbursement (or gratitude.) It’s heavily moderated to keep spammers at bay (because all heck will break loose if someone offers free ringtones or a new home mortgage) and inappropriate (or totally inept) postings off the list. I un-moderate members as soon as its clear that they get the proverbial “it”. I help some members write and edit their posts to make it clearer of what they are offering or wanting. I even let members use my home address for exchanges if they are having a hard time meeting up and so on.

I do this alone although I’ve asked for moderators to volunteer and two people have, one could barely use a computer or navigate yahoogroups website and the other turned himself back into a regular member after dealing via multiple e-mails with one of the complainers.

So if I’m away from the computer for a few days, or without internet access, I can’t approve some messages. Or if I approve a message and yahoo’s servers burp and it doesn’t go through to the list immediately I am accused of being “Stalinistic”. In retort all I can say is that I have yet to murder 10 million Freecycle members, when I do then I can be compared to Stalin.

So what have I decided to do about this bit of drama besides rant about it here? I’m going to knit. I’m going to knit serenely and peacefully now that I have unloaded my frustrations. Knitting is good, yarn is good, and I am just going to enjoy it.

Mail day! Opal aka the AkamaiKnitter sent me some goodies! The teal green wool is amazing to spin, and I’m looking forward to breaking into those cookies and candies after the kidlets go to bed.

Well of course Opal deserves a good mail day too so among her stuff will be enough silk yarn to knit a shawl.

Zippy (that’s the kitten pictured) knows that the key to good silk yarn is to add lots of twist. (Please pardon the background, I was keeping Matt company while he worked in the shop.)

Yarn? I am so impressed, you must go there now.

Merino! Beads! They go together so naturally, like ice-cream and rootbeer. Like anything crafty the more I practice making beaded yarn the more pleasurable the process becomes. I am particularly fond of the light green one, the glass on the beads is actually blue and the paint inside is bright pink. On the light blue skein the beads are lime green glass. Sometimes I’ll get beads at the Craft Warehouse, but Wal-Mart sometimes carries nice e-beads for less (have to be careful, I’ve gotten some really bad beads there too.)

I spent much of Saturday going through the linens and throwing out the old ones, then washing anything in the back of the closet or down where the cats like to nap. Then in a remarkable (for me) wave of organization skills I sorted them all into stacks by use; master bed, childs bed, baby bed, and so forth. I put a plastic crate at the bottom of the closet on its side (so that the open part faces out) and then stuffed the throw away linens into an old pillow case, arranged it into a comfy cat bed then laced it with catnip– fortunately my dad’s cats seem to enjoy this new arrangement, even though Blackie initially seemed put out by all this activity in ‘her’ closet.

Yesterday was Mother’s Day, so my mom came by with her husband. It was a nice visit, my Mom gave me a sweat-shirt with a teddy bear and hearts on it, which was a sweet (if somewhat weird) gesture and I gave her a pin with a heart and angel on it. My husband and I were baffled by the sweat-shirt (as we are by most of her gifts) in that as much as it will probably fit size wise, the whole idea of me voluntarily wearing anything with teddy bears on it is, at best, unrealistic.

Unless the teddy bear was wearing a motorcycle jacket and sneering– wearing a motorcycle jacket and brandishing knitting needles and sneering; I’d wear it then.

I did find out though (because no one actually bothers to call me and tell me what’s going on) that my step-sister Jenny will not be getting married again this fall. This frees up the mohair lace weight that I set aside for her wedding shawl as the break up is for good this time (or so they say, I never know, I could get a phone call a week before a ceremony saying “Oh, yes, its back on– No one told you?”)

I do hope that she’s not expecting me to knit the shawl for her anyway, because I’m really ticked-off at her for not calling and telling me herself at this point (this last incarnation of the wedding was scheduled for August and I have already contributed a large amount of time, energy, personal resources, and effort) as well as doing the same thing for her vow renewal thingie for her first (last?) marriage (the one that ended less than a year after the thingie cited above.) Don’t misunderstand, I’m not peeved about the cancellation, I’m peeved that I wasn’t informed so I could work and plan accordingly.

Okay first the promised post of the finished toddler blankies:

Between fighting a kidney infection and relentless yard sale weekends I’ve found plenty of time for spinning (there is absolutely nothing better to do during a yard sale than spin-spin-spin while waiting for people.) The weather has been lovely so the I have my version of a tan, my skin doesn’t really tan– the freckles just sort of darken and start merging into each other.

Thanks to the yard sale experience I realized what a pampered world we spinners live due to the internet. I was asked some really silly questions, like if I had to unspin “regular” yarn to make handspun or if I’d brought spinning with me from “the old country” (I was born and reared about 60 miles from where I live now.) One woman sagely told a child “She’s spinning yarn, that’s how yarn was made in the 1800’s.” I –cringe– just smiled sweetly (and thought very loudly that “The decline of handspinning was in the 1800’s because of the industrial revolution, and its not just how yarn was/is made but all spun threads you silly! Mechanically what I’m doing is IDENTICAL to how thread and yarn is spun today. Well, with the exception of things like nylon that are chemically extruded..)

I think in general I behaved myself rather well, although I did give a few silly answers. Q: Where do you get the wool? A: From sheep. Q: How long have you been spinning? A: Today, about 400 yards. Frankly I think I was exceedingly well behaved since I can’t even count how many times I had to explain to people that fiber bearing animals are usually NOT killed for their fleeces, there are many spinners “still around” and that handspinning is not always passed from mother to daughter nor is it exclusively female, that my Ashford wheel is NOT an antique nor is it the neweest version on the market, that my drop-spindle is -yes- homemade but we also make them as occupation, that wool is not the only spinnable fiber, that weaving and knitting are not also dying arts, and no we don’t keep sheep in the back yard (although many many times I’ve suggested it to my husband the answer has remained “No sheep.”)

Back to work for me, laundry beckons.