Twists of Fate

So there’s this big bru-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha in the Washington state capitol again, because along with a Christmas tree, they’ve displayed non-Christmas items. Same thing, different year, blah blah yawncakes blah.

I’m a bit slow off the mark this morning, so I saw the article in Teyani’s blog. I commented there:

My uncle and I got into a discussion a couple of years ago about this. He, a fundamental Christian, was completely flabbergasted when I said I prefer that the government honor that idea of separation of church and state and to let folks celebrate whatever they want in their *private* spaces.

I find it sadly amusing that the inclusion of a number of other religions or points of view for this time of the year means that those with a different belief are out to ruin Christmas and “this holy time of the year”. Shouldn’t every day be holy in one way or another? Shouldn’t displays of piety and grace happen in the everyday, ordinary moments?

Yes there is a war on Christmas. There’s a war going on somewhere in the world the other 364 days of the year as well. There’s a war on poverty, on hunger, on freedom of speech, on my right to choose what I do with my own body and for the right of every other woman to do the same. The war to find a cure for AIDS, for cancer, for horrible diseases that disfigure children and ruin lives no matter what age group it strikes.

I could go on and on, but the point is…people are fighting every day for far more than the right to proselytize from the lobby of our government’s main building. Put your damn big boy and girl pants on and make that tree in your living room the most glorious monument to commercialism on your block, or go to church or temple or sit naked in a sacred grove with a gaily decorated altar and enjoy your spirituality.

Just please stop demanding the right to do it all over our public, paid for with taxpayer dollar spaces.

Some days, the best you can hope for is to actually be wearing pants when the hot UPS man arrives.

Fiber content: knitting on Kauni Hat the Second continues. Spinning? I have this urge to spin and absolutely no get up and go to make it happen. Today is a cold, depressing, sad kind of day. I blame the intermittent crying on PMS.

I’ve been in contact with a new-to-me local person who does fiber washing, but their email persona is really quite brusque. I’m not sure I want to take my business to them. Maybe I’ll go with one of the more established folks, even if it’s a longer drive. I went on another fleece buying binge (could be worse, right?) and, well. Yeah. I can do some of them myself, but I think the merino/crosses need to go to someone else. I just can’t get the water here hot enough, even with addition of water from an electric kettle.

Today is blah. At least stray kitty was happy to see me (aka didn’t hiss when I went to put out her food).

I find it hysterical that I’m watching SGA (Stargate: Atlantis, fabulous mind!crack for when you’re PMSing and having a hellacious craving for chocolate) and the SGA (Snow, Glass, Apples) update goes live on the BPAL site. Was I one of the lucky ones who was able to order a set along with the Black Moons? Only time will tell. And a Click N Ship notification.

Another couple of pounds of Corriedale washed. A few more rows knitted on the hat. Another frustrating exchange with the landlady. A severe bitchy fit when discovering the bottle of vodka has less than a pinky’s worth of fluid left in it. So much for that pomegranate martini this evening foo.

Ah well. Back to SGA and hoping I got some SGA.

Anyone else out there an Avenue Q fan? If so you’ll recognize the title. And maybe, if I am evil enough, you’ll be singing it all day too. :D

I’ve lost all my words about the workshop with Carol Rhodes, but suffice it to say that she is FULL of awesome and fabulous and a wonderful teacher. I learned quite a lot about fleece selection for spinning the Arans (not likely, because I hate me some bobbles yo), Guernseys (somewhat more likely if I really decide I love my brother, the merchant marine) and Fair Isle (possible, but not anytime soon) yarns and patterns.

For Aran yarns, we spun two different fleeces. I tripped and fell and bought some Cheviot, which I learned is pronounced Chee-vee-ott, and it’s sitting and waiting for me to wash it. The Galway (I think? I can’t find my little booklet from the class…I think it’s in the studio with the wheel) fleece is hard to find outside of Ireland. I can see where I may want to do an Aran hat or maybe some mittens with a wristband that has some cables, but dude. The bobbles. I hate the bobbles. I have a bobble loathing that is probably fairly unreasonable, but seriously, why wear something that looks like you’re wearing cat testicles proudly on your clothing?

With the Guernseys, I learned that I really love pure Blue Faced Leicester in combed top format, but am no so much with the enjoying of the personally combing or carding it. Those spiral, crimpy locks are lovely to look at and a bitch to work with. I want to roll around with it in soft focus and maybe a suggestive soundtrack (the FLEECE people, this ain’t a Dolores production), as long as it’s clean, but if you want me to spin it? Pure BFL in combed top please. I did find that the Scotch Mule crossbred fleece was MUCH easier to work with, as the teeny tiny curls were magnified so it was easier to work with, and I think my best yarn of the entire weekend was spun with the two locks of that Carol was able to share. I am tracking some of that down for next year (they already sold the whole ‘08 clip foo…and yes, I googled it) and getting me some.

Last but not least were the Shetlands, who are small, cute, and too smart for their own good. Sadly, by this point in the weekend I was spinning wounded and totally on overload. I did get that there is a remarkable amount of variety in the breed, that I could spend just about forever working with just the natural colored palette that the beasties come in, and that a true moorit is a beautiful thing to see. Also, when I’m tired I can’t spin nearly fine enough to make a Fair Isle weight yarn.

I would be QUITE remiss if I didn’t mention that Suzanne, part of the brains behind Madrona Fiber Arts, is a damn fine cook. Plus, the house was gorgeous, and Rakish Joe and the super sweet Diva were quite welcome distractions for someone who has no animals of her own. Besides the dustbunnies that roam the land that is my apartment, I mean. Suzanne was a gracious host for the hordes, and mmmmmm good eats. I didn’t even mind driving from where I love out to the house, which seemed like a really long drive in the 7am hour for three days in a row.

Anyway. Good Eats (sans Alton). Fab teacher with a Table of Happy (many knitted samples). Great classmates who put up with my severe crankiness when trying to ply from three wound balls (never again). All in all, well worth the money and I am very much looking forward to the Bohus class next month!

And now, to the porn. While buying up some of the types of fleeces we worked with in class (though I did go with roving for some of it), some of my other purchases arrived. For some reason, I keep getting Coopworth and Corriedale mixed up in my head. I really didn’t enjoy working with the Coopworth roving I purchased when I first began spinning. Maybe it was a strange batch, but it reeked of a weird glue-like smell and was really really rough. I’ve shunned Corriedale because I thought it was similar, but then pulled my head out and got to reading, and from what I understand it’s really quite a lot softer, finer, and if these fleeces from Twin Peaks Sheep and Wool Company in Colorado are some of the best of the breed? I’m a happy happy camper indeed.

Holly, right out of the bag she shipped in.

And some of the fiber washed up today. I always let my fleeces soak overnight in water with half a squirt of Dawn. Then I drain, wash twice (these only needed once) with three squirts of Dawn and then two rinses. I got a new toy that spins out so much more water than the salad spinners did and it’s worth every single penny I paid for it.

I’m rather pleased with how well the “locks” stayed together here, even if they all fluffed up into a mass that makes it difficult to really distinguish individual locks. The crimp is super obvious in the fleece, but the individual locks really kind of blend together into these big blocks that stayed together well in the wash.

Not the best pictures of the washed fleeces, but I used the Crackberry camera, and lightened them a bit when I uploaded them. I need to work on a lighting plan for the studio. The carpet is a dark teal and it faces mostly north.

OH! Before I forget, I must thank my favorite NOR-ma for the lovely pink sock kit I won from her blog contest! We share a birthday, and she was giving this away on the day. And then Sandy pulled my comment number out of the morass and lo, I won! On my birthday! For a giveaway she did for her birthday! The cosmic coming-togetherness boggles my little peabrain. But it’s happymaking, and it came with a card that I believe is a January One special (I could be wrong and please do correct me Norma if you read this and I am wrong) and it was very warm fuzzy inducing when I opened the package today.

Whew. A long post, but there was lots to talk about for once!

New growth. I see directly across from me a bush (with aspirations to become a tree…I wonder what it is?) draped in that particular “new leaf” green that’s so shocking and yet so very welcome after a long, cold, grey winter. YES!!!

I made bread-in-a-tube this morning and managed not to burn anything. Obviously, watching all that Food Network is paying off. I have managed to conquer Pillsbury! Excellent!

And I may have found something I actually want to make for myself. I’m a little leery of it being 100% linen yarn though. And did you know that there’s a massive number of free patterns on this site? Even for me-sizes? It would be nice to have a big range of tunics like this in a variety of yarns. I’ll have to check it out and hell, maybe doot around the yarn stores tomorrow for this yarn.

It hardly seems like it was only two weeks ago since I went to Madrona. KnitterPatter MUST come and go with me next year. We’ll rent a room, hang out, stitch, bitch, drink, feast and generally just say “neener!” to the world and all it’s troubles. We will knit and I will Borg her into the spinning world, and a good time WILL be had by all. Dammit. Because we both have had a rough year, and we deserve some goodness!

I had all these truly awesome thoughts in my head about Madrona, but then work interfered, and it’s all I can do not to drink the weekend away after a truly craptastic week, so let me just say this in case I haven’t already. I want my own pocket!Ruth Sorenson. I went out and glommed four big ass balls of Kauni from VY&T last weekend with the intent to make hats and fingerless mitts and stuff. And I’m almost done with the hat I started at class, which for me is an amazing feat, given I’ve barely had enough energy to eat when I get home from work.

I’m rambling now. Not unusual, but I have fresh not-really-croissants waiting for me to eat, and then perhaps it’s time for a nap. :D

May March be peaceful and any growth in your personal life be gentle and beautiful!

How do you all deal with disappointment? I try to be graceful about it, but often times not only fall short of the mark, but miss it completely. Granted, this could be because I continue to work 60 hours a week and just didn’t have time to check the Ravelry inbox, but I missed out on Alice Starmore’s Tudor Roses by many hours today, even if I was the first to respond to the post.

This sent me into a very embarassing crying jag on the damn phone while talking to a coworker, who was understandably confused when I tried to explain. “A knitting book? And this is a big deal why?” He’s a good guy who has his own obsessions, so I phrased it in a way he understood and he got it. He’s also new and exhausted and has coped with some of the stuff at work his own way lately, so we just dealt with me snotting and blubbering all over the phone and moved on.

But stilll. I’ve wanted that book for a long time now, and to miss out on it by a few hours when I finally have the money to get it makes me sick. Having the flu isn’t helping, and I “left” work after ten hours today because I just need to go to bed early and maybe have one of those therapeutic sobbing sessions that lets you back off from the edge a bit and get a grip on reality.

I just wish La Starmore hadn’t been the one to push me over the edge.

Days like this I can see the advantage in having a hand knitted shawl. It’s like a hug when you can’t find someone to give you one in person.

*deep breaths*

So I “multitasked” for work this morning. There were no concalls scheduled (SHOCK!) and most of the boss-types were out doing a “day of caring” (um, how ’bout a little for your slave labor vendors, eh?), and all’s quiet on the Western front. So I took my Bluetooth & phone, and my ginormous bag of quarters, and headed to the laundrymat to do some sorely overdue laundry.

I can’t believe I’m actually writing this down, but I haven’t done laundry in nearly two months. Three things enable me to do this, really.
1. I bought a ridiculous amount of underwear at a clearance sale a while back.
2. I work at home.
3. I bought a ridiculous number of yoga pants from a clearance sale not too long ago.

But when you run out of undies, it’s time to head to the ‘mat.

Who knew it was so busy on a Friday morning at work? I did my wash (yay for triple loaders!), stuffed things into the dryer, fed an ungodly amount of quarters in and headed to the farmers market. Oh, I also finished most of the other Fetching mitt, and hope to finish off the set tomorrow sometime. /obligatory knitting content

Have any of you had ground cherries? They’re awesome! I gather they’re a cross between a strawberry and a tomatillo or something, but whatever their heritage? So good! They taste a little like kiwi strawberry to me. Or maybe the pink diamonds in a bowl of lucky charms. I got a pound, but maybe I should’ve gotten more. The’re just really a unique and nummy fruit-thing.

After a quick run through the farmers market (mmm pecan white chocolate scone for breakfast yum), I hit the regular store for a few other things, including peanuts for the pair of thieves robber barons Stellars Jays that are visiting my yard. They looooove the peanuts. I hope I’m not giving them something that will make them sick - they’re just unsalted roasted peanuts in the shell. They’re just so full of character…I like it when they visit my yard.

After getting everything but the pack of smokes I went in for, I went back to the ‘mat. Where most of my things were dry. I did my usual haphazard folding, which is mostly just to ensure that everything fits in the giant Ikea Laundry Bag of Potential Shoulder Dislocation, when one of the older ladies standing at the folding table began taking me to task. “Oh, dear. What will your young man say when you bring him home all these clothes that are so wrinkled?”

…uh, what?

“Honestly. You should take more pride in your wifely duties.”

…bzuh?

“It’s a shame that young women these days are so lacking in essential skills.”

And here is where I began to get pissed. While I don’t have a degree, because I put myself through school and petered out after my third year of forty hours a week at a job and 18 credit hours too, I’ve done pretty damn well for myself. I pay for my own housing, car, food, etc. I am teaching myself to cook, albeit super slowly. I taught myself to knit, spin, make candles, tried a batch of cold process soap once (let’s not talk about that again though m’kay?) and keep house (poorly). I make more money on my own than my parents ever have together or alone, and I’m including my mom’s second husband in this equation, and I’m an independant person who tries to contribute to society in what small ways I can.

Whether or not I can fold clothes well or iron shouldn’t fucking matter at this point.

I haven’t had coffee yet, so perhaps I can be forgiven for snarking back. “Actually, my girlfriend doesn’t care what the clothes look like.”

Shock! Horror! Picking up and moving of things away from someone who might transmit Teh Ghey!

Now, disclaimer - I don’t actually have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend, a spouse, a lover, a partner, or an interested party. I should be so blessed to share my bed and/or my life with someone, but I’m a cranky wench before (well, and after, if I’m honest) coffee, and honestly. What bidness is it of yours, bitch?

*breathes deeply and exhales* I finished my stuffing of the bag, and sailed out of there with my head held high, and eyebrow set on maximum distain. I’m sure it was quite the discussion point for all the older folks in the ‘mat, but one lady caught my eye and winked at me when I left, which made me smile.

And then I came home and hung everything up and let the wrinkles take care of themselves.