Freya–Goddess of Puppy Love
No knitting has been getting done because I have her to play with.
This lovely little face belongs to my golden retriever/mutt mix. She’s 12 weeks old and is my and her daddy’s darling.
C is for Sadness
Dear Knitting,
I know that I have neglected you recently, but do two wrongs make a right? Sure, I only picked up my sock project because my video game wasn’t working. I thought that you would be there for me, faithfull and true. So imagine my dismay when I discovered your betrayal. You decided to express your displeasure by bending one of my favorite DPNs into a C. I’m going to take the high road and assume you chose a C because it was easiest instead of the C being the first letter of a nasty name that the other 3 DPNs would finish. And after I bought you a nice new Namaste knitting bag to travel with me in! You’re going to have to work hard to rebuild my trust in you.
With love despite it all,
springplum
P.S. Hiding my shawl pattern is not a good first step toward a healthier relationship.
Fiberific!
Tomorrow is the DFW Fiber Festival in Addison. The Pirate Hooker and I will be there for glorious shopping. Hope to see you there–here’s the link for info.
Countin’ Pre-Chickens
So Matt and I have started preliminary house-buying stuff. He’s looking into loans and tax credits while I fret anticipate. Is it strange to be looking at furniture and paint chips for a house you haven’t even found yet? Yeah, it’s strange–I’m counting those chickens before they’ve hatched. But I’m ready to personalize. There are many things about apartment living that I like; for example, if something breaks, someone else fixes it and we don’t pay for it. Also, I haven’t had to mow a lawn for 10 years. The white walls, though, are driving me crazy–might as well be yellow wallpaper for as nuts as they make me. I want to paint! Although painting a flat wall one color is about as artistic as I can get.
Where’s the knitting talk?!? “Isn’t this a knitting blog?” you ask. I really like the palette of this yarn for a living room.
Yarn as interior decorating inspiration. I love it! I wonder if the paint guys could make a paint that matches that blue?
Day After Regret
I don’t regret frogging the Sheep Shawl. I wasn’t very far into it and it wasn’t working out. What I am having second thoughts about is casting on Juno Regina with that Baruffa Cashwool that I wound on Saturday. The pattern is working out–I like it and it likes me. Also, the yarn is both soft and sturdy–at least as sturdy as lace-weight can be. The problem is that on Friday, I ordered the yarn for the Peacock Feathers Shawl. As content as I am with Juno, I know that she will get tossed aside like a frumpy hausfrau for a sexy new vixen. I wonder if it would be more fair to undo the very little (20 rows) that I have done and put her aside when I can focus more completely on her. I am a bad bad knitter that knows nothing of knitting monogamy.
Also, Matt is still sick and has begun making a sound during the night like someone is attempting to have maritals with an undead goose; it is a very squishy honk. I need sleep.
Rip It, Rip It Good
Let’s please have a moment of silence for the Sheep Shawl who suffered two critical and ultimately fatal injuries this Valentine’s Day. Two yarn overs were missed. Although the knitter diligently used a lifeline, the errors occurred in the lifeline row.
Here and here.
The knitter’s patience with the project ran out, and she made the difficult decision to terminate. The shawl was reduced to its basic components. Rest in Peace.
To make myself feel better, I made a cup of miso soup and wound 1500 yards of Baruffa Cashwool while appreciating the one year anniversary of my dear ball winder who I love more and more each time I use her.
Sadly, this was the extent of my Valentine’s Day celebration because my husband is down with the flu. Although I was give him props for going out despite his illness and getting me some chocolate-dipped strawberries. I love you Matt (and not just because of the chocolate).
One Down…
…one to go.
Please note that I have already started the second to avoid Second Sock Syndrome. A three hour training session not only helps a knitter to avoid SSS but makes her darned happy to have a second sock to knit.
I also got yarn mail today.
Witch Bear approves.
Stealthy Startits
Startitis got tricksy yesterday. After I organized my stash, Startitis pointed out that a snow day shouldn’t have to settle for just any ol’ knitting project–such a fine holiday deserves a brand new project. Perhaps Sheldon or that new blue sock yarn. Luckily my chilly feet pointed out that if I work on the sockotta socks, they’ll be warmer sooner than if I start new. A few hours later, Startitis suggested getting a head start on Christmas knitting. I had called Mom to ask her sock size before I cottoned on to Startitis’s plan. Then Lost started and I lost (haha) interest in taking my eyes off the screen long enough to cast-on.
At school, another teacher and I are looking at European locations for a possible school trip. Is it wrong that I want to take the kids on the Ireland trip because it says we’d be touring a sheep farm?
Snow Day Fever
Due to icy roads, I have one whole glorious day home alone. I can watch whatever I want, play whatever I want, knit whatever I want. So what to I do to start this most fabulous of days? I cleaned out our clothes closet. I’m still not sure what possessed me to spend several hours in our uninsulated (and therefore freezing) closet sifting through old clothes–I’m certainly not known as the most tidy of women. In fact, I avoid housework as if it will give me cancer. But I realized this was long overdue when I found a t-shirt from elementary school. Part of the problem is I need to realize that just because somebody gave me a gift, that doesn’t mean that I must keep it for the rest of my natural life. When the gift shirt has three holes and an unidentifiable orange stain on the shoulder, it is okay to throw it away.
That ended up as 3 big garbage bags full.
The stash also received this organization treatment. My stash used to be stuffed in here:
But it got so full that the door would spontaneously pop open and spit out yarn. This is bad–no one needs a yarn ejection system. Now the stash is happily ensconced in its new home.
I can now rifle through the stash without errant balls rolling out of the shelf and around on the floor. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.
The Sockotta socks continue.
I love that the heel turn is entirely in purple.
New Addition to our Household
Don’t panic Linda, I’m not pregnant. But I’m not sure I could love a child more than I love this:
Matt got me a swift for Christmas. He, Matt M., and I struggled for 2 hours trying to untangle 2 skeins of Noro Daria, and to preserve our sanity, he got me Mr. Spinny up there to prevent that from ever happening again. So now when the ladies at the yarn shops ask if I’d like that wound, I proudly say, “No thanks. I’ll just do it at home.” (The yarn on the swift is Lorna’s Laces Shepard Sock in Ashburn purchased with a gift card from Mom–thanks Mom!)
All of my female family members got a Daria bracelet at Christmas time. That is some slippery, slippery yarn. The skeins got tangled, the wound balls collapsed. I ended up winding the yarn around some size 19 needles and knitting them off the needles like spindles.
But the results are so shiny, no?
Today during finals week boredom, I started some socks out of stashed Sockotta.
