Too Much Wool

what came home

On Friday I headed to Cummington with very few thoughts of buying. I had been to Maryland a couple of weeks earlier, and bought enough that Juno had to UPS things home to me (actually, this is normal fiber festival procedure at this point, but we'll leave that be for now). Massachusetts was all about the people, New England friends and farmers, and the chance to walk in the sun.

Right.

I've obviously developed a reputation as a bit of a shopper at these festivals - and probably elsewhere by now. There's always something about the sheeps and the wools [we call it 'the lanolin high', just in case you need to put a label on it] that gets to me. I think what it boils down to is that what you can find at these festivals just isn't available anywhere else - or anywhere near me - on a daily basis. The chance to talk to a wheelsmith, a shepherd, or a spindlesmith and then buy their wares at the source.

I bought fleece. I knew that would happen - I was pretty sure I was ill at Maryland when I managed to go and come home with no bags of greasy loveliness straight off the sheeps' back. The fleece sale at Cummington was pure joy - small, with a dedicated band of enthusiasts waiting at the door until it opened and let in the wave of hard core fiber people. That's where I got my Icelandic fleece - a beauty with deep chocolate thel and an almost bronze/blonde tog [the two coats on the dual-coated, ancient Icelandic breed, more about that at a later date]. Weighing in a 1.75 pounds, sitting on the table with its blue ribbon screaming Buy Me! - I still needed reassurance from Marcy and Mamacate to actually pick it up and claim it.

You'll have to wait for more detail shots of this in another post - the photo is just the tip of the iceberg. Or the top of the fleece bag. Or the tips of the tog, whatever you wanna call it.

There was also the small Polworth fleece from Australia. Ignorant slut that I am, it took someone telling me that basically all Polworth comes from Australia to make me feel better about not buying only local wool.

Its got staple length that will make it a great fleece for combing, and a color that I just couldn't turn down. Its only part of a fleece, about a pound and a half or less. Enough to have fun with but not overwhelm my city apartment. Well, except for the fact that the entire apartment now smells like sheep - but I like it like that. The housemates will just have to learn to love it too.

There were the spindles. I've probably annoyed everyone I hang out with by now with my assertion that "it isn't a festival until I buy a spindle" - but that's really how I feel about it. Most of the time it isn't a festival until I buy two spindles, but that's just hyperfocusing on piddly little details.

The one on the left is from Turnstyles/Bill Hardy, and it spins like a dream. It may go right up in rank to my favorite spindle of all. The one on the right is a Forrester spindle in yellow heart and walnut. It was the first spindle of this particular festival and spins absolutely beautifully - I think I spent the whole day on Saturday with it, spindle-sampling my way around the booths.

There's also the not so small, um..... issue of the big purchase. Which requires some explanation, ad nauseum as usual from me. I blogged recently about dissatisfaction with my wheel. Some of this has been wheel envy. People I dragged kicking and screaming down into the spinning abyss a year ago who now have wheel(s) that put my little Ashford Joy to shame. But some of it has been that I really felt I needed some more room for technical growth that my wheel just couldn't give me. More speed, higher ratios (more or less the same thing) and bigger bobbins were my main desires. Nicer wood wouldn'tn hurt either. I like pretty things, but you know that by now.

Less than a week ago, I emailed several friends who are hardcore fiber people, and told them what I was looking for and to keep an eye open for me. Wheels change hands on a very regular basis - people trade up, outgrow, lose interest (heresy, I tells ya), or need to keep the wheel-to-human ratio in their homes more or less static. I knew I wanted a used wheel, because it would be more affordable. There's something about buying a used wheel or car (we're used car people too) that seems very practical.

Turns out that on Saturday I walked past (at least a dozen times) the exact wheel I had told these friends I was looking for. It all came out in conversation on Saturday night, and it was all I could do not to cry. I'm not exaggerating - there isn't really a booming market in used spinning wheels in NYC, at least as compared to some places where people seem to regularly find them. The idea of buying a used wheel is nice, but being able to try it out, give it a test drive, and avoid the whole shipping thing (the idea of buying a wheel and having it damaged in shipping makes my skin crawl) was really what I was hoping for.

So, I bought a used Schacht Matchless, a single treadle. I went straight to the booth on Sunday morning and it was still there. Destiny. The very first wheel I spun on was a Schacht, and I was hoping that one day I'd be able to get one. I still don't have pictures of it - the lighting has been bad, my floor needs sweeping, and ...... well, Juno took a picture of me spinning on it for the first time, and I can't top that.

However, I can show you the first yarn I spun with it, mostly over the weekend at Cate's house - some beautiful roving from Helen at Bay Colony Farm.

And yes, I'm happy.

forgot to mention

I guess in my little blogging absence I forgot to mention that I was going to Cummington, to the Mass. S&W festival. This only became apparent to me when two good friends walked up to me on Saturday and said, "What are you doing here?!" Kind of embarassing, really - I hadn't realized that I didn't mention it to anyone.

There really is no way to begin to describe it, I'm afraid. After I read Mamacate's post, I more or less thought that I shouldn't even try. But, having for once taken out my camera and used it, I'll have to give it a go. Just remember that Mamacate has the important part of it covered.

The weather? Perfect - hot and sunny (I could do without the hot but after the rains of NHSW there's no way I'd consider complaining). There is always the question of how well warm spring weather and wool go together, but if it was okay for drop spindling and touching the wool, it was good.

I bought a bit, of course. I'm sure no one is surprised. Cate got me into a fleece sale that wasn't claustrophobic - I wimped out at Rhinebeck - and worked her magic (she's really good at it - scary good). I walked away with a beautiful Icelandic fleece. Small (1.75 pounds), almost-black brown, and once the tog is removed, so incredibly soft that it could convert anyone to Icelandic wool. Not that I need converting.

Marcy Blogless worked her magic too. Marcy and I have a tradition-in-the-making; she's always somewhat miraculously the first person I see at any festival that we're both attending. Then she takes me by the arm (twisting just a teeny bit, I'm pretty easy) and I buy whatever spindle she waves in front of me. I haven't been sorry yet, she knows her stuff. I got a gorgeous Forrester spindle in yellow-something (I need to find the tag) and walnut.

Saturday consisted of much walking around, incredible amounts of talking (sheep, wood, wheels, wool - all the important stuff) with friends, and meeting some absolutely fabulous vendors that are local to the festival. The atmosphere was such (and certain of my friends seem to know everyone) that I got to spend quite a bit of time talking to the wool... people. I want to say wool-dealers, but really they're shepherds and just enthusiastic about their sheep and their art. There really was little opportunity for anything like this contact with the vendors at MDSW - the crowds and the crush worked against it.

I bought some fiber, but not an insane amount. Just a couple of small bags of stuff, after I went to the fleece sale. There's some cashmere/silk from Foxfire, some very small balls of hand-dyed roving from Diane at Sojourner Sheep that I bought to spindle my way through the festival with, and ..... well, then I kind of bought more fleece. Not a lot, and not a big one. A luscious Polworth in a beautiful gray-brown. About a pound and a half, just part of a fleece. There was something about Cummington that made the fleece more attractive than yarn - it opened up possibilities and made me dream big. I've also been controlled in the fleece department for a long time, so it was great to find a few small things to play with, to get my woolcombs back into gear.

Oh, right. I said something about pictures. Realistically, I'm going to have to post more than once about this festival. I stayed in Mass. for 3 nights, spend most of four days with friends, and then the whole "look what I bought" thing seems like a bit of an afterthought.

Instead, let's go for a photo essay of all the important stuff:

beauty in motion

a baby - 12 week old Jacob lamb

a very happy Kellee with Merlin Tree Dave

.... and a teaser - more soon.

random is as random does

[.... or how Cassie tries to post on 4 hours (or less) of sleep, and probably doesn't succeed very well]

There has been knitting -

I've finished the first full pair of socks in my sock pattern. Just a note to those of you chomping at the bit to buy it - you can't. It's not for sale. When its ready I'm putting it up for free on the blog. There is a panel of experts (sorry, I love the way that sounds) that's helping me get the layout and stuff the way I want it. When all of that is done, it will be here for the taking.

I've been doing some sewing -

There are more emergency sock kits in the pipeline. I got way behind with a few that I'd promised, put off working on them because ... well, I'm not sure. I think I had developed an aversion to changing thread colors for top stitching and I was avoiding it as a Big Deal. But when I sat down at my machine I realized that it wasn't a big deal and that there were a whole bunch cut out and ready to sew. So I'm doing that. I think I just needed a break for a bit, part of the shoulder pain I had was due to bad ergonomics at my sewing machine.

Shoulder pain - my LMT is a wonderworker and has fixed me. I'm still a little tender but I've pretty much figured out which combination of stupid moves and bad posture conspired to hurt me and so I'm working to correct them. Since taking a break and not doing handwork isn't an option, I'm just taking it slowly for now. With conscious effort not to repeat the stupid mistakes that put me out of commission in the first place.

Having finished my orange socks, I found myself yesterday running out the door to teach a class (quilting - the classes are going really well but the late night schedule is wreaking havoc with my sleep) and needed to grab some knitting. The first thing to hand was a pair of feather and fan socks I hadn't touched since ..... a long time ago.

I (re?)discovered that stockinette can sometimes be a good thing. They probably don't look like stockinette, but the lace pattern is such that there are three rows of plain knitting for every row of lace. In my book, that's stockinette and a very good thing for 11pm train rides. There's a matching sock just about an inch behind this one, and so I now have some subway knitting for a while. There is a major benefit to having knit something dozens of times - I can actually do the lace rows without thinking or counting - its entirely possible I was doing them in my sleep last night and this morning. Auto-pilot is a wonderful thing, and working with Lorna's isn't too bad either.

Something(s) I've been meaning to blog about but just hadn't gotten around to - there's a flammegarn glut here. Perhaps 'glut' isn't the right word, it sounds a little negative and the situation certainly isn't. A while back I had posted about flammegarn and my obsession with it (I've probably done it more than once - its a longstanding obsession). Well, bloggers being what they are - and maybe I sounded a wee bit desperate? - I received a couple of absolutely amazing gifts.

At the top is two skeins of hand-dyed madder yarn, from dyemistress extraordinaire Brooke. The one on the left is flammegarn and the one on the right is solid - so I can recreate the socks from Folk Socks that I've been obsessed with for years. There has been a remarkable level of self-control involved in not dropping everything to work with this.

On the bottom is a skein of .... hand-dyed madder flammegarn (again! - we have a theme!) from my Team Iceland teammate Sigga Sif. I think the scientist in her shines loud and clear here - as far as I can figure out, she more or less learned to dye and then dyed this yarn for me. Either that or she's been hiding her talents from the world at large - hard to say. The fact that the yarn is Finnish is particularly pleasing - because, you know, Finland is way over there in Scandinavia and that's near Norway and that's where flammegarn is traditional.

So now I have a healing shoulder, a sock pattern to finish writing, lots of flammegarn socks in my future, sock kits to finish sewing, and ...... you know what? Life is good. Very very good.

remember when

Remember when I used to post about spinning? I don't think it was until I unpacked my wheel from its carry bag and saw that the only yarn on the bobbins was from a spinning class over a month ago that I realized I hadn't been spinning at all.

Oh, granted, the spindles have come out. I've sampled on them (at MDSW), I've even played with them around the house a bit, with whatever is lying around. But I do my "real" (read: actually making enough yarn to do something with) spinning on my wheel. And I hadn't touched it in ages.

My shoulder/neck is still hurting, but I've got an appointment with my LMT this morning (yay! she's the best - I'd go all the time if I could afford it) and so hopefully that will get taken care of before the day is out. Once again, all the sock knitting (tight gauge + small needles with no loosey/lacey knitting seems to tense me up - go figure) has conspired to hurt me. So over the weekend, when it became really obvious that I really really needed a break (really), I got out my wheel.

Now, you need to know something. I've been nursing some dissatisfaction with my wheel for a while now. I think some of it is wheel envy, pure and simple. I bought my wheel not because it was my first choice among wheels, but because it was used and the price was very good. I more or less learned to spin on it, and we're good friends. But when some of my friends wind up with more and better wheels than what I've got, I start to get jealous. Okay, not the nasty, icky, putrifying kind of jealousy that rots the soul (really, not that kind, I swear). More like the feel sorry for myself, spending guilt with daughter going off to college kind of jealousy.

June posted some of her thoughts on wheels that she tried at MDSW recently. When I read it and thought about it, I wished I had spent some of my time at the festival trying out wheels. When I thought more about it, though, I realized that one of the reasons I didn't was self-preservation. I knew that if I sat down at and fell in love with a wheel, I'd be in mortal danger of whipping out my credit card and buying one if I had even a glimpse of justification for why I "needed" it.

At any rate, in the midst of wheel envy and dissatisfaction (nursed, remember, mostly in my mind, as I hadn't spun for a while) I decided I really needed the relaxation of some spinning. For some unknown reason, I wound up pulling out whatever roving I first laid hands on rather than some "good stuff" that I have sitting around. The first thing to hand was some merino/tencel that was a reject gift from Juno.

While I think that I really started spinning this stuff just to show that I could do it (Juno complained about the drafting of it, so it was a challenge you see - not to mention a chance for one upwomanship), there was nothing to recommend it as a choice for relaxing spinning. A. It was as slippery as an eel and B. it was the most godawful blue. Not that there's anything wrong with blue, for other people. Its just out to get me not my color.

So, imagine my surprise when it wasn't really as bad as I thought it would be. The color is just plain not me, but the spinning - which I thought was uneven but it really doesn't show once its plied - went pretty well.

So I learned that my wheel really doesn't suck, that merino tencel eels aren't all bad, and that blue can be just as fun to spin as nice colors. So there.

you gets what I got

[Or how to drag out a sock pattern, in ten easy lessons.]

First off, I haven't blogged about it (only whined incessantly to my friends for weeks) but I somehow managed to knit/sew/type myself into some lovely neck and shoulder pain that's been irking me whenever I do any of the things I love. [Note: this is the first excuse, dredged out for sympathy - sympathy will get you mileage.]

I've been working like crazy on the sock pattern. I'm trying to be original (always a pitfall - thinking I can reinvent the wheel is one of my character flaws) and so its taking time to work out a lot of details. A friend I spoke to yesterday mentioned that not only was I designing, and knitting, I was also doing my own layout and design. Which, unless you're self-publishing as opposed to having your ideas put into a book or magazine, means that you're doing everything yourself. [Note: this is two excuses. First, try to talk up how great its going to be - different! exciting!. Second, point out how damn much work it is so that you get more leeway with the timeframe.]

So, this is where I am, knitting-wise. We've got the original teal sock(s), done in Cherry Tree Hill Supersock.

[Note: this is to placate the blue crowd. Its always good to placate those blue-lovers - they can be strange and sometimes even .... anti-orange.]

And to try to incorporate all of my slight tweaks and improvements [Note: this translates as "New! Improved! Even better than before!" - standard marketing device.] I give you the orange version, in Koigu KPM:

As you can see, I did the right thing with the cuff in the orange version - I was in a rush to get my ideas translated into knitting the first time around and so skimped on the cuff with the teal socks. Margene set me straight on this when she pointed out that a longer cuff would look better. [Note: Acknowledge taking advice - it takes the edge off your lack of humility.]

At this point I've knit about three of these socks, if you don't include the anklet version of the pattern [Note: road testing - a good thing for car manufacturers as well as sock knitters] and I think I've got everything worked out to where I'm pleased with it.

I've been working on the pattern writing, and I think I'm almost done. I've got it written up to the heel flap now. I'm going to have to enlist some help in putting together the file into a neat format (already got the help lined up) and as soon as I finish it and proofread it for the umpteenth time, I'll put it up here. I've also been conferring with several people about pattern writing and details of how best to phrase things so as to be as clear as possible. [Note: we've got your panel of experts, right here.]

I do have to say, although I planned on doing it in two sizes, I had to decide to settle for one to start out with. I'll either add the larger size once I work out all the kinkiness [Note: suggestiveness works for beer advertising, why not socks?] with the different stitch count, or possibly post it separately. I just really need to see things on the needles - I can't visualize or reverse-visualize something on paper and be sure that the directions are going to work when its knit.

And then there are the anklets. Far more seasonally appropriate, but the pattern is a little trickier and so its going to have to wait. Until I can buy more Koigu knit them again and figure out how to write that up. [Note: promise them more - something for everyone.]

Oddly enough, even though all this sock knitting may turn my entire life into one giant sock knitting spree, I'm kind of having fun. Dreaming of lace shawls again (I'm convinced that knitting lace won't hurt my shoulder) but still having fun with the sock pattern. Of course, being hyper-focused on this has probably given me very little perspective.

It has occurred to me that putting this sock pattern up is somewhat akin to sending my daughter off to college. I may be having all kinds of separation anxiety and mother-hen stuff all rolled into one, confused and transposed from daughter to sock. Leaving the nest, out on its/her own. Away from the caring, loving, nurturing environment that hatched it/her, trying out its/her wings in the wide, wide world. Full of predators, hidden dangers and .... whoops, got carried away there.

Seriously - its really just that the pattern isn't done yet.

conversations with my mother

Conversations with my mother have become awkward at times.

Like this:

Mom: Hi! What's going on?

Me:  Oh, not so much. [Been too busy with the blog emails, forgot to call .... can't say that.]

Or this:

Mom: Whatchya been doing?

Me: [Spent the last week working on sock kits to sell on the .... blog. Can't say that either.] Oh, not much.

Or worse yet:

Me: Happy Mother's Day!

Mom: And a happy mother's day to you!

Me: [Damn. I didn't finish her scarf that was supposed to be her present.]

How about:

Mom: How's it going?

Me: [I'm struggling with the details of the sock pattern I designed to give as a gift on my ..... blog.] I designed a sock. Its pretty nice.

Or even:

Mom: Those classes you're teaching will be nice for some spending money, huh?

Me: Yeah. [But really not enough for the laptop I want so badly I could scream. I want to be able to .... blog when I'm not home.]

[Does anyone else get the "beware of The Blob" song stuck in their heads when they say 'blog' too much? Nevermind - don't answer that.]

Yeah, my parents still don't know about the blog. I'm usually okay with that, but when the blog takes up lots of my time, and then I try to make conversation without mentioning it, it all gets a little weird.

No, I'm still not telling them, but the temptation is there. What do you say at this point? Oh, all those friends I hang out with all the time and travel to see and the presents I get from people in Finland and England and Iowa (not sure I've gotten one from Iowa, really) were all people I've met over the last NINETEEN MONTHS that I've been .... blogging. And I hadn't mentioned it, because... because I wanted to be able to talk about you behind your back if the need arose? Ouch.

And that's the short version of my mother's day guilt trip. Self-imposed, to be sure, but still there.

As far as the things you're really interested in go -

• No bamboo IK top - I'm still holding off.
• No knitting. I'm writing the sock pattern.
• No new emergency sock kits. I'm writing the sock pattern.
• No sock pattern yet. I'm tweaking.

mired

I'm mired deep in the bowels of pattern writing right now [that doesn't make it sound like fun, does it?] and so this will be brief.

In the meantime, I'd like to put out a call for someone/anyone who might be willing to volunteer to help Claudia and I design a graphic and text for a t-shirt. If there's more than one willing victim, it might turn into a contest of sorts for the best design, although I don't plan to post any of this until one is chosen. "Best" design just means the one that I/we like the best. Because, you know, this isn't really a democracy.

The prize may or may not be sock yarn. If you're not a sock knitter I'm sure we can work out an alternative.

remarkable self control

I had plans, oh yes I did.

Many moons ago, I had promised a sock pattern. Its not that the pattern isn't in my head, but I discovered that getting a pattern from my mind to the needles and then from there to paper (in an intelligible manner, which makes all the difference) is not such an easy thing.

When last you saw the sock idea, it looked like this

This sock is now done, and there's more than half of a matching one finished as well. I had a few problems - there was a pattern glitch that I needed to work on, but the biggest stumbling block was that I had hit a skein of yarn that was kind of overspun and so it kinked back on itself, making the knitting not so pleasant. There was also the minor issue of having chosen a color that was just a little too dark to photograph well and the fact that its just plain not my color. [However, it is my daughter's color, so they have a destination when they're done.]

After consulting with friends about pattern writing, I did realize that another major mistake I'd made was to knit this sock and jot down notes on index cards as I went. The sock and index cards have traveled quite a bit, the notes are haphazard and resemble hieroglyphs more than real notes - in other words, I wasn't being methodical about the whole thing. Not a big deal for the socks, but a very big deal if I chose to try creating a pattern that others could follow.

On Friday, I got myself a sense of urgency. There was both a need for a sense of completion as well as a little bit of guilt for something promised but not delivered. So I did what any rational person would do - cast on for another sock in the same pattern, from the beginning. Realistically, I see now that thinking I could knit one sock (or just a pair) and write a pattern from it on the first try at knitting it wasn't quite reasonable.

Saturday morning arrived and I still had a mission. I sat down with my coffee and a  sense of purpose for the weekend - finish a sock, take copious notes, have something concrete to show for it. At about 9am on Saturday this arrived:

The bamboo yarn I had ordered from Kpixie for the cover sweater from the new IK. The fast delivery was much appreciated, but the temptation to drop a sock I'd already knit (twice) was great. The need to sit and take detailed notes no longer looked like such an exciting way to spend my weekend knitting time.

However, I have somewhere and somehow gotten myself some disclipine (do me a favor and don't remind me I said that the second I drop it, m'kay?) and instead I did nothing but this:

I knit voraciously on the new sock, working my wittle fingers to the bone. And took copious notes (four pages, if anyone cares). In longhand rather than hieroglyphs, in a graph paper notebook so that I won't lose a word of it to travel or forgetfulness.

As I said earlier, the process is slower than I'd like. But I think I've worked out the little things I'd wanted to fix and now the next job is to sit down and write it all down. In a way that makes sense to others. Yeah, and I've got to finish the toe of the first sock, but that's a minor detail really - I actually had it done and decided it was a few rows short and so ripped it back at 11:30 last night or I would have had a finished sock to show.

So.... promises, promises. There will be a pattern. It will probably be soon. But I wanted to tell all the world (the part that's listening) that I resisted new yarn and a new pattern for the sake of completion (and a wee bit of obligation I feel to deliver something I've promised). Although I suspect that this shows some level of personal growth or something like that, the fact that I'm pointing it all out probably negates a lot of it.

Soon, people, soon. Although I have to admit I'm actually getting scared that someone will knit this and tell me all the things I've done wrong or could have written better. Not that its written yet - with any luck I won't let the fear of critique paralyze me before I get started. However, I suppose that its obvious by now that writer's block is not something I've ever really suffered from, eh?

the Juno chronicles

Late class last night, and nothing got done here yesterday that's bloggable (well, I could admit that my cotton spinning needs work - never underestimate the amount of twist to put into cotton is all I'm gonna say about that).

So, you get the paltry few pictures I took at the festival. I barely took out my camera, so instead you get the Juno chronicles. 'Cause, you know, she's pretty bloggable.

There was a running joke over the weekend regarding the .... well, the look on Juno's face when she got to spin on her wheel. The wheel was ordered way back when (Rhinebecktide, to be precise) so the spinnerly satisfaction was much delayed, but seemed to be even more than the fulfillment of expectations once the union was finally - shall we say - consummated. The lady (that would be Juno) spun on it at intervals throughout the weekend, making frequent stops at the Merlin Tree booth to visit her baby.

This is my favorite of the pictures from the booth. The photo doesn't do justice to the crowds that gathered every time that wheel was spun on. You can see Dave's huge grin (he's on the far right, in the red vest) watching Juno spin. You can also see the people stopping to watch, drawn in by the beauty that is the wheel.

Given that we were in transit, and staying in a hotel, the wheel slept in the booth overnight on Saturday rather than coming back to the hotel. So, when Juno finally took full posession of it and parted it from its maker, it was late Sunday afternoon.

Here you see the wheel leaving the fairgrounds. Sorry for the blurry picture, I'm sure the lady got a bit annoyed at me making her stop, hold the wheel up, and pose for pictures to record the event.

As you've all heard by now, there was a bit of a mishap on the ride home, with a part jiggling loose and things not being quite perfect once the wheel arrived at its permanent home. Part of the reason I didn't say much about this initially was .... well, I woldn't have used the word 'cranky', but there was disappointment about the continued delay of gratification that had been long anticipated. I still hope that I didn't blow my cover as a caring, compassionate person by not knowing what to say. Personally, I thought Juno's composure was admirable - I probably would have been in tears.

However, one (furry) baby found the new baby very interesting. I'm really proud of this picture  - pure dumb luck, not taken with a SLR camera and it being just the perfect 'shaking of hands' between new aquaintances.

And there you have it - a spinner and her new wheel.

Just say yes

In no particular order:

I forgot to mention the great "knit" button I got from Jodi at Maryland. It matches my sock kit perfectly, and after wearing it all weekend I attached it to my ESK for the duration.

See? A perfect match.

I'm in love with the cover sweater from the new Interweave Knits. So much so that I've already ordered the yarn. I know, I should know better than to think about summer knits, but this sweater would look soooooo good on me and..... shut up. I know. Once I knit it. But first the yarn has to get here.

I also forgot to say that one of the first things my daughter told me when I walked in the door from MDSW was that the new IK was here and that there were some really great patterns and that the endpage story was funny. Took me several minutes (after she'd already gone into her room and closed the door) to process the fact that she'd read my knitting magazine. Okay, doesn't mean that she's going to be knitting the projects, but it was an encouraging sign. Humor me.

Claudia got an accurate color representation of the wool I bought that will grow up to be a sweater (when I grow up and spin/knit it). It looked off when I posted it the other day, so here ya go:

Hey, its even at the festival in this picture (right now I think UPS has it) Juno showed the world's worst picture of me trying to stuff it into a receptacle that was far too small, and we had to mail it.

I'd been (quietly) in mourning for what I thought was the death (or reasonable facsimile thereof) of the Japanese maple in our front yard. I count on this tree every year for beautiful color, for shade, for bathing my deck in a warm glow when the evening sunlight filters through the leaves, and also for..... well, I've already put a lot of expectations on this poor helpless tree. But let's say I was really upset that it seemed dead, and was the last tree (Japanese, maple, or otherwise) in the entire neighborhood to leaf out. I was therefore thrilled when I got home to find that it had seemed to have a full and complete recovery.

What made it even better was that yesterday, I found a baby in it.

Okay, its just a starling/grackle-y thing, but its a baby. Barely fledged (I noticed it because it was flopping around a bit on a branch that was too small for it). Since this is right off the edge of my deck, I was able to get a picture, and I was thankful that the mombird - who was very close - wasn't swooping over to peck at me.

Knitting news: none. I enjoyed wearing my new red ankle socks all day Wednesday (perfect for a damp spring day), but decided against actually doing any knitting. Because, you know, the Snapple is out to get me.

Instead I spun. Not just any spinning, but on my new tahkli spindle. I had tried in the past to spin cotton, but it was an unmitigated failure. This time, armed with a couple of emails from Sylvia, a copy of A Handspindle Treasury, and my new tahkli, I gave it another go.

People, I have spun ..... thread. Organic, naturally colored brown cotton..... thread. Now, I feel this is an accomplishment, in spite of the fact that its not even and the first bit was underspun so that when I tried to ply it kind of fell apart a bit [a lot]. I have another tahkli, one with a wooden whorl, but hadn't had any luck on it. This little one I got from Carolina Homespun spins like a dream. I did replace the wooden bowl I'd bought (it was getting perforated from the sharp point of the tahkli) with a small ceramic bowl my daughter made a few years ago.

Something about doing this is microscopically satisfying. The drafting triangle is so teeny that I almost need backlighting to see it. The fiber is so short and fine that it reminds me in an odd way of lint. But I did it. I need remedial cotton plying help, and there's also the issue of what in the world I'm going to do with the cotton.... thread that I've spun.

However, the fact that this can be done while sitting, with very little space means just one thing: its car-friendly. We'll not debate the wisdom of spinning with a very sharp very potentially projectile object in a moving vehicle (can't be worse than 2mm dpns, can it?), but having something that could satisfy the urge to spin in the car has got to be a good thing. Because we all get urges to spin in the car, don't we?

Just say yes. (please)