Sooki is the main character in The Saggy Baggy Elephant, he’s happy with himself and life in general until a parrot starts making fun of him.

Parrots can be such dicks.

Sooki then tries ways to make his skin fit better, mostly by asking predators for advice and putting himself in harms way. Each time he tries and fails the parrot is there to make sure that Sooki feels the sting of public humiliation.

Really depressed, Sooki hides in a cave (an obvious metaphor for eating a gallon of Cherry Garcia and wearing dirty sweatpants) and a hungry lion finds him there. Sooki cries out as loud as he can when the lion goes after him and his terror is rewarded– he is saved by a herd of elephants that not only chase off the lion but affirm that there’s nothing wrong with Sooki, he’s a fine looking little elephant sags and wrinkles and all. Then they go stampede through the jungle in a rage (okay, the book says they all dance through the jungle, but I’ve watched a lot of National Geographic specials on elephants and dancing was not even mentioned in passing.)

It’s probably too sad to recount that the elephants’  joy stampede destroyed several small villages and took many innocent lives so it ends with them “dancing” in the jungle. Not to mention that graphic depictions of death and destruction could have been problematic for the illustrator of a children’s book. I can respect editorial discretion and I still love this story even though the intended moral of the story is “You’re okay as you.” and I’m pretty sure the real moral of the story is “Yell loud enough and an angry mob of adults will eventually come and save you.”

Also: “Parrots are dicks.”

The truth is no angry mob is going to save anyone from deeply seated self loathing caused by the taunting of parrots with borderline personality disorder or lions that may or may not be suffering from a serious eating disorder.

Still, it’s a lovely story and I couldn’t pass by the little handmade elephant in Keeper’s Corner without thinking of the book, so I bought the elephant and Matt gave me the book.

My re-organizing of the craft room is going well. I took a little time out to deal with a pressing case of yarn vomit. Yarn vomit is when a skein of yarn expels the loose inner core of yarn in a one or several large clumps which will then tangle if left to their own devices. Yarn vomit is the bane of knitters and a single skein of yarn suffering from yarn vomit is capable of infecting the whole herd.

Somehow winding new neat and tidy balls of yarn just isn’t giving me my crafty fix for the day. I think I’m going to make a push to finish painting my Queen Anne doll later and start working on hearts for Valentine’s day.

Happy Birthday Deb!

A perfect geek score of 10 will get you the love and admiration of my imaginary friends.

(Those of you that know that 10 in binary equals the number two now have a perfect geek score. The adoring crowds are now cheering your name.)

The finished socks are worsted weight wool, I don’t remember the brand. Or maybe I do and I’m just ashamed.

Alright, I’m just ashamed. It’s Patons.

Go ahead and laugh and point yarn snobs. I have a merino blend on the wheel.

My dear friend Lisa Castano hand-dyed some gorgeous merino roving for me last year, I got this lovely single from it. Lisa is in Gresham Oregon and she does a fantastic job of handpainting rovings in small batches as well as handblending different mixes of fibery goodness.

Eager to get some knittable goodness and to maintain the distinct blocks of color I’ve Navajo plied the yarn.

Behold the glorious results.

Okay, less than glorious plying on my part, but still, more or less balanced and totally knit worthy.

It’s a knitters freakin’ paradise, or it would be if I could find a proper LYS out here. I’m pretty much stuck to Micheal’s in Klamath Falls for yarnage. Let’s just take a moment to feel sorry for me.

Poor me.

pictured: hat, snow. not pictured: self pity

Moment over. I’ve been working on a hat, no pattern (no big surprise there) just a circle with cables on it. The uncabled bit at the beginning will be folded under and stitched down to make a nice band inside. The yarn is Caron “Country” and it’s a 75% Acrylic, 25% Merino. That cold breeze that blew through here was not the weather, just the bitter winter of my heart as I weep just a little, longing for proper handspun wool on my needles.

As soon as I get a place I’m going to grab at least one of my wheels and do some spinning.

shorty socks

And more socks.

They look more or less like the other socks that I’ve already finished. I did the longer cuffed socks first, now I’m just trying to squeeze out a few pairs of the shorties out of the skein ends.

There is something innately satisfying about looking over and seeing a flock of socks form on the corner of my desk.

I haven’t exactly been very definite lately.

Me? A sock knitter?

I seem to work best in bursts. After a stint of yarnlessness (it was really not pretty) I went through a bit of a knitting related dry spell.

Actually, if I hadn’t been for the knitting this week I would have probably gone off the deep end.

It’s been a rough week for me. Not to sound cynical, but I learned (for the umpteen-thousandth time) that people who have a track record of flaking off will not randomly metamorphose into reliable and trustworthy butterflies. It’s one of those lessons that I think I’ve fully integrated, then I relapse and start with the whole irrational belief that people are generally benevolent.

So, with this kind of frustration I figure it’s best to put yarn on my knitting needles before I succumb to the temptation to violently stab them into human flesh. Because that sort of thing is generally frowned upon in polite company.

I think if I were to reknit this I’d add at least 3 more inches in length. Maybe just a squidge more.

The finishing was super easy, I snipped a small hole in the top to let the lid button through, and sliced holes to let through the spout and handle.

I’m going to mount googly eyes on it and make it my friend.

Where it is now.

Hopefully when it’s out of the washing machine, it’ll be suitably felted and appropriately sized to my Amsterdam teapot, then I’ll slice a openings for the handle and the spout.

I cross my fingers.

I’ve finished one light blue Garden plot square and started on the second one.

The squares are coming out nicely, but I have to work considerably less on them because the cotton has no give and makes my wrists ache.