"Knitting is the only addiction using needles that’s legal." Listen to or read the story here.
Author: BeverlyArmyWilliams
First Meeting: Fun!
Last night’s Tobacco Valley SnB was a lot of fun. We had six people there, and Jenny taught her husband and her friend Aaron to knit while Sara unraveled the ill-fitting sweater (I think it’s for the best; I want her to avoid the boyfriend curse at all costs) and Kristen worked on a top-down sock. I represented for toe-up socks and made some good progress on Neal’s 2005 Christmas socks. I’m trying to fly through this second one so I can start on Badcaul for MB’s socks, which will be my project while I wait to start my wedding shawl. What am I waiting on? Scout is dyeing yarn for me so I can have a shawl that reminds me of this. Just in case I don’t manage to spin 1,000 yards of yarn in the next week or so.
At the end of the evening, Sara and I pulled out our beloved Bossies and had a lesson from Jenny on getting a finer yarn. I have been fairly satisfied with my heavier weight yarns, but I’m craving more consistency as well as the ability to develop my skills to spin the yarn I imagine.
It was an exciting night at home, too, with the NCAA Tournament beginning. Since my beloved Huskies aren’t at the dance this year, I’m getting behind Ohio State to take it all home. My dad was born and raised in Ohio, and I have lots of fond memories of summer trips there. Plus, I like this kid’s playing.
The northeast is due for more snow, just when I was rejoicing in the grass and easy walking. I’m back east now, and I need to accept that I will not be able to start working on my ravishing tan any time before June. I’d be a little brown baby already if I still lived in Albuquerque. Ok, so maybe I’m too pale to ever be brown, but I’d at least not be blindingly pale.
I’m off to run my errands before this storm hits. Best to be prepared for a cozy day of writing, reading, knitting, and spinning, right?
ETA: Check out this Alpaca Web Cam from Hunter Hill Alpacas. I know what I’ll be watching all day!
Are You Friends with JLH?
If you or someone you know is friends with Jennifer Love Hewitt, can you please do me a favor? I heard back from Hanes about the floral dress that I want to wear for my wedding in two months and a couple of days (not that I’m counting), and *sob* it is from her personal collection. I’ll continue my search, and I may end up visiting a seamstress, but if you do know her, could you ask about the dress? I just got off the phone with my sister, and she thought maybe JLH would let me borrow it, but I suspect I’m a different size than she is. Maybe.
Here’s a quick Runagogo update: 67.5 miles. Only 32.5 to do, and with the big melt underway, I think I can really do it.
I Found My Dress
Jennifer Love Hewitt is wearing it in the new Hane’s ad campaign. I’m hoping that a little bit of detective work (mainly an e-mail to Hane’s customer service) might garner some solid information. Here’s hoping it’s affordable!
I made another wedding decision today. I don’t want to take the time right now to design my wedding shawl; the design I have in mind will have to wait until my skills catch up a little. Instead, I’m going to knit Eunny’s Print of the Wave Stole. Now to decide on a back up yarn in case my handspun doesn’t swatch well.
Thanks for the sock pattern suggestions. Right now I’m leaning toward Badacaul, although I’m worried it may be too narrow for my sister’s foot. I’ve still got a bit to go on Neal’s sock, so I have a little time to make up my mind.
Calling CT/MA Crafters
I’ve written here several times about what my Albuquerque SnB pals meant to me. I truly believe that I would not have survived the last semester of classes at UNM without them all. I miss a lot of things about New Mexico, but high on the list is my fiber posse.
While showering on Saturday (like many Aquarians, although I am an air sign, the water is my solace, my favorite place), I decided to try to emulate what I miss. It won’t be as easy as picking up a few cans of Hatch chiles, but my two best high school friends and I were already meeting pretty regularly, and Jenny has started to join us and inspire us with her fabu spinning (btw, check out her shop…I’ve pet her yarn in real life…her work is ah.maze.ing).
So. I’ve started the Tobacco Valley SnB for fiberists (is that a word?) in the Connecticut/Massachusetts area. We meet on Thursdays at 7:00 p.m. at the Starbucks on Rte. 75 (Ella Grasso Turnpike) in Windsor Locks, right near Bradley International Airport. If you live in the area, I hope to see you there for our inaugural meeting this week.
Pattern Idea? Please Help!
For Christmas 2005 I knit gifts for almost all forty of the people on my gift list. My hands hurt by the end of it, and the most understanding of my giftees got "Daryl B. Moretacum" letters–promises for socks went to Neal and MB. Neal’s socks are nearly done (just have to finish up the second one and re-do my too-tight bind off on the first one), so I’ve turned my thoughts to MB’s. I purchased the yarn (Lorna’s Laces in a green/brown colorway that I’m too lazy to go dig out to find out the name) ages ago, but now I can’t decide on a pattern. I want to do another toe up pair, and I’d like to knit something a little more complicated than my usual stockinette with ribbing. Any ideas?
I’m on Spring Break this week, but I seem to be more busy than usual. I like that feeling, though. I think I do better work when I’m crushed for time; I just don’t like to sustain that kind of pace. My goal for the rest of the night? Eat coffee cake and drink tea. Surf the ‘net for sock patterns (c’mon, like I haven’t been doing that on and off all day!). Match up KMKS angels and lonely kitters. Go to bed early. I hope you enjoy your night!
200!
Earlier in the week I received my final package for the Spin to Knit swap. Ingrid sent me a beautiful skein of lace-weight yarn made on her spindle, a pattern, adorable needle protectors, a card made from her own paper, and the loveliest smelling soap. I really enjoyed her package and am so impressed with her talent.
Speaking of talent, have you seen that the Spring Knitty is up? Go take a look, then tell me what you’re dying to make. I love Kirsten’s Tahoe, Romi’s Bauble, and there is no other word for how I feel about Clessidra than crush. These socks are going in my pattern queue.
Remember that dreamy spinning I mentioned a while ago? Here’s the finished skein, now on its way to Hamburg. I felt good about this yarn, in part because I felt like I understood double plying better than I had before. Zinnia gave me some flack while I plyed on her, but in the end, we worked it out, and I made what I think is my best yarn to date. Margene’s studious ways with her spinning have inspired me to approach my own more mindfully.
Thus concludes my 200th post on this blog.
Craft-Tat Meme
Scout asked, so here goes. Forgive the bad pictures–my tattoos are not in easily photographed places, at least if I’m the one wielding the camera. This stylized dragon was my first tattoo, way back in 1992. Artol (that’s his name) is on my right shoulder. When I showed my mom this tattoo, she licked her finger and rubbed. She didn’t believe that I had gotten the real thing. When I was little, I always liked my grandfather’s tattoos, and I couldn’t wait to get my own. Artol was my symbol for my ex-husband. I don’t see the tattoo a lot, but I’ve thought of getting him covered. Despite the original meaning, though, I’m mighty fond of Artol, and I don’t think I’ll do anything else.
Told you these pictures would stink. As I’m not handy with programs that might let me flip this picture, how about you hold a mirror up to your computer monitor to look at this one? It’s the number 13, my lucky number. Since I was young, I’ve had a soft spot for this number. Later I learned about 13 being a feminine number, and I grew to like it even more. I got this one in 1996 after I made my ex draw it in pen week after week. Johnny Cash covered a Danzig song "Thirteen," which was the inspiration for the location of this one.
This is a two-fer tattoo. Originally there was a Chinese symbol that I thought meant student. When several Chinese friends told me otherwise (um, try Saturday), I thought it was kind of funny. I got the original tattoo with my friend Sara, spontaneously in 1999, so I didn’t have time to check that the symbol was correct for what I wanted it to mean. Lesson learned. After the ex and I separated, my friend and fellow knitter Annah and I got to talking about getting tattoos "fixed". She made an appointment, and after work one day in 2003 (or was it 2004?) we both got new tats over old ones. This is really just a design that the artist drew after tracing the original tattoo. I see so many different things in it: a mask (which being separated and later divorced allowed me to remove); a mermaid (which reminds me of my love of the water and of fairy tales); and a woman with her arms and legs spread open (which reminds me to embrace life and love).
There you have it. The funniest thing about having these is that I’m a conservative looking person–it’s just the way I’m made. These bits of black ink reflect my inner self better than anything else about my body, I think. When my students get a look at these (usually in the late spring), they are often surprised, which amuses me.
Let me know if you posted pictures of your tattoos if you have them, or what you would get if you ever decided to ink up your skin.
I’m Not Looking for Sympathy
Realistically, I’ve got nothing to complain about. But I’ve been feeling off of late. The cold that never leaves. The lack of birthday celebration (yes, I am such a big baby that nearly a month later I’m not over it. I’m trying to get over it. But I’m not yet. Please don’t think poorly of me). The lack of integrity as a writer. The inability to stay up later than 10:00 at night. The weather.
The wind is whipping, and although the digital thermometer reads 19.2 degrees, it feels much, much colder than that. In about half an hour, my dogs will turn their pleading eyes to me, and I’ll bundle up in Neal’s hefty winter coat that makes me feel like I’m wearing a sleeping bag. We’ll cross the street that people always drive excessively fast on (oh, I’m a bitter soul today), and we’ll enter the woods. I won’t stay on the path today, though, because under a kiss of snow is ice. I.C.E. Treacherous, villianous, nasty ice.
"Ice," I’d like to tell it. "Ice, I once adored you. Remember all those winters in New York when I skated on you every day? Remember how each November I would begin to visualize you? Remember how I would sprawl on you and look at the leaves frozen in your grasp? Remember that one time I was so happy that you were there on Christmas morning that I kissed you?
"Remember all that, Ice? Well, it’s over."
Ice, of course, being of the cooler personality type, would not really care. But I would continue.
"You made me fall yesterday in a low-down trick." Would Ice even blush? Melt a drop? No. Ice pulled one over on me, and as I sit, warm albeit cranky, my shoulder hurts, my hip is bruised, and I’m just waiting for Mr. Sunshine, Mr. Fun, Mr. Temperature-One-Hundred-One to take revenge for me.
One thing has made the shoulder feel better. You guessed it: ice.
Spinning Love
There’s nothing but gray skies and rain-snow here, so I haven’t been able to get a glamour shot of my fabu birthday gift from Scout. Take a look at her picture here, though. That, along with some samples of S.O.A.K. and Bonne Marie’s Ribby Pullover pattern were in the box of love she sent to me. Isn’t she a dolly?
I’ve been working on the toe-up socks for Neal. After an afternoon of frustration as I tried to knit two on two circs, I caved and took one off. My brain power hasn’t gotten back to full strength I guess! I’m just about ready to do my first heel–toe up style.
There has been some swappy spinning, too. For the Interweave Spin to Knit exchange I just completed two bobbins of a lovely green wool/silk lap purchased from Leah at Yarn or a Tale. One word for it: dreamy. After the mutts get their walk, I’m going to ply it up. I can’t wait to see how it looks–I’ll take a picture before it wends its way to Hamburg.
