Annual Freaky Time, plus knitting & spinning

Why, hello there.

Tim bids you hello from his favourite spot on the sofa. He loves the ticking of the clock, and is forever in search of the small bug he is quite certain is around there somewhere…

Yes, I dropped off the blog for a while. It’s been a long, weird winter here; as I type this, we are expecting freezing rain or hail or sleet or fire and brimstone tomorrow (depending on the interpretation of your weatherperson). And for whatever reason, this winter a lot of stressly stuff just hit me smack on the forehead, with an understandable result: Depression.

Raise your hand if you get to experience the exhausting, oh-so-amusing hall-of-mirrors ride that is Depression, with a sidecar of Anxiety, just to spice things up a little. Oh, look. There’s a bunch of you out there who are on this ride with me, or know someone who is. At least we are not alone…

I’ve got a few tips for dealing with this thrill ride. (There’s going to be knitting soon, I promise, just hang on for a moment, or skip ahead if you like.)

- Admit it to yourself. Say it out loud to you-in-the-mirror. Apparently, some study was done that showed that just by naming the demon, the level of depression lifted…a wee bit, but I’ll take what I can get.

- Tell trusted ones around you what is going on. You don’t have to be the Doom and Gloom Monster, nor the one heavily sighing in the background. You don’t have to go into details. But think about it: Depression is an illness, often a chemical imbalance in your grey matter. When someone you know seems like they are in pain or sick, don’t you ask them how they are doing? And don’t they usually respond with a brief “Oh, I have bad arthritis in my hands, and they’re just really swollen today.”? This is completely normal levels of caring conversation, so the next time someone asks you if you are all right, try saying, “Oh, I’m struggling with depression lately, and it’s just particularly bad today.”

You’d be AMAZED at the conversations that can come out of saying something like that. Not with everyone, not in every context, but with friends and people close around you, you’d be amazed at the compassion that can flow from just admitting what’s REALLY going on.

- Read blogs/books by folks who are suffering, and are either extremely good at striking just the right note of comedy about their struggles (Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess, who deals with anxiety as well as depression), or whose honesty and clarity is inspiring and uplifting (Lisa B. Adams, who has stage 4 breast cancer and faces grief and loss openly and head-on and does so with a grace and beauty that astounds me).

- Do the doctor visit thang, and the therapist thang. If you suspect it the long winter making things worse, get a SAD light.

- Find a way to make some space in your life to contemplate joy and have a little space of kindness for yourself. Be compassionate to YOU. This is hard, and it sucks, and you’re strong, and if you can manage to get out of bed in the morning, dress in pseudo-matching tones, and get the coffee-maker going, you SCORE.

Besides all the above, I’ve been trying to cope in various creative ways. I started doing volunteer work at my church, I joined a few groups (book club, choir) and I even started a group on my own that is going surprisingly well. We call it “Craft and Chat”, only because it’s through my church and you really, really can’t put “Stitch-N-Bitch” in the parish bulletin next to the Sunday ham dinner.

I started a craft group at church! It’s been a great success. Here, Margaret shows me that she brought plenty of yarn to knit her scarf.

I also went at my unfinished projects list with a vengeance. I felt that by finishing things, I would get that nice sense of accomplishment that we knitters get every time we bind off and weave in those pesky ends.

Thus: Knitting

Oh, look! A hat:

No, really. It IS a hat. It’s a little eye-searing, granted, but the young lady whose head it shall grace is quite fond of neon colours. I had the yarn dyed up for me by Lorajean Kelley, proprietor of the Etsy shop KnittedWit. I love the super-bright colours, and I suspect the future wearer of the hat will, too. Plus, I only had to don sunglasses for the last few inches of the pink, so all in all, a fun project. (The pattern is a Sandi Pattern Not Written Down Yet, in case you’re curious. If anyone wants me to write it up, let me know.)

Neon Girl has a brother and two parents. I wanted to make a hat for each family member, and so Neon Girl’s hat is the third of four hats to be finished.

Dad-of-Neon-Girl’s hat:

Pattern: Habitat by Jared Flood, slightly modified with a second vertical pattern repeat adapted for my own tastes. GREAT PATTERN. The top of it is so pretty:

Wow, not the clearest picture, sorry. It’s a  lovely flower  cool starfish design.

The yarn is my own hand blended, handspun wool/silk tweed, 3-ply, heavy DK to worsted weight yarn that I drumcarded and spun. I have at least one skein, maybe nearly two, left over, and that is for ME.

Finally, Mum-of-Neon-Girl’s hat:

The colour above bears no relationship to the Actual Colour. Let’s try this:

MUCH better.

Pattern: Mica Tam by Laura Nelkin.

Yarn is alpaca/silk by Dicentra Designs.

And last but not least, my sweater-in-progress:

Pattern: Hiro by Julia Farwell-Clay. However, please note that per as usual, I’ve modified the colourwork on the cuff. The original has only two colours; I wanted three. So I worked the chart once with purple (CC1) and green (MC), and then once again with green (CC1) and grey (MC).

Yarn: Again, this is the wonderful work of Lorajean of KnittedWit.

The body is in grey, and is already knit up to the armholes. The lower body to the waist is knit according to the size 48″ instructions; the sleeves and waist to yoke to collar will be knit according to the 45″ instructions, because I’m bigger on the bottomside.

Spinning

I must have at least five spinning projects going on. In no particular order:

Above: Singles on my Sidekick. Fluff is polwarth/silk by Diane Palme of Schafenfreude Fibres. I want every single fibre Diane dyes. She has awesome blends and sophisticated colourways that beg to be spun.

Above: Plying ball for 2-ply fingering yarn. Fluff is BFL from Jennifer VanCalCar of Holiday Yarns mixed with some Chasing Rainbows silk. Jen’s BFL is a dream for blending and spinning; it has a loft and richness of colour that make me just hand over my wallet every time I’m in her booth. (Chasing Rainbows needs no introduction, I trust. If you need an introduction, here: Go buy some of her silk. Lovely, lovely.)

Below: Just a taste of the 2-ply yarn-to-be.

 

Off To See The Wizard

As I write this, I am preparing for my annual teaching jaunt at the Yarn Cupboard’s Winter Retreat. I went back and read my post from the week prior to last year’s teaching gig, and I could literally cut-and-paste, because I am now experiencing the Exact Same FreakOut Feelings as I did last year.

At least I am consistent.

This year, I’ll be teaching my tiara class, a class on finishing sweaters, and a class on creating your own true-to-you schematic that you can use to customize almost any sweater pattern so that it really fits you. There will be vendors, other teachers teaching fabulous things…if you are going to be near Syracuse, NY, from April 19-21, check out the website and come and join us!

Chispas

Even in medieval times, cats walked all over us.

Because it’s snowing here on April 11: Oat and Maple Syrup Scones. MMMMmmmm.

Cute, capering baby donkey.

Kitten meets hedgehog.

In view of this article, I am going to attend the Orangeville Alpaca Show on Saturday with a few of my Kitchener-Waterloo peeps.

‘Til next time, me hearties.

in which I actually speak about my adventures with yarn

Time for a bit of knitting and spinning on this knitting/spinning blog, what do you think? I bet I’ll wander around as I usually do, however, so let’s see where my tapping fingers take me…

I was going to do a post about the three projects I’d finished in January, because I’m still riding the high of finishing three! projects! in! one! month!

However, I realized that two of those are late holiday gifts, and their owners-to-be read the blog. Thus, I’d have to call the post “Spoilers About Your Christmas Gifts, So Sorry,” and that just didn’t seem like such a great idea after all. 

I’ve now reworked the post so there are no revelations ahead of their time. The one project left to blog about is a project which took eighteen months to complete, and is rather near and dear to my heart. Or more accurately, to my feet.

Tibetan Bunny Socks

They are just humble socks. There is no fancy lace pattern; there are no intricate cables up and down the cuff. The actual knitting wasn’t all that difficult. Yet, these are one of those efforts that make you feel like taking off your shoes and putting your feet up on the table to show off the wonderful things you made. (Yes, I have actually done this; last week in fact. Only once though. So far. No one called either the police or the environmental control officials, so it seemed to come out OK in the end.)

I designed the yarn, choosing the fibres carefully for colour, texture, and function. I hand-blended the batts on my drumcarder, I spun the yarn and plied it (sport-weight, 3-ply), and then I adapted Cat Bordhi’s wonderful Tibetan Sock recipe in New Pathways For Sock Knitters to make socks that fit me like no other socks I’ve ever worn.

I’m a proud sock mama.

These are, in fact, the end result of a sock-yarn designing class I took from Sheila January at the 2011 Sock Summit. She taught us how to consider all the different properties of each fibre, and to combine them in proportions that would get us the sock yarn we wanted. One of the best things she did was to help us break out of the rut of merino/silk/cashmere or merino/silk or the other standard blends. She encouraged us to choose each fibre deliberately, and to widen our search parameters, if you will, to include nearly all the fibres there are out there. She spent time going over the properties of different fibres, and what that meant in terms of spinning yarns for specific purposes.

I was fascinated. I’ve spent much of the time since that class experimenting with different blends and fibres, based on the things she presented in class, and I have learned SO MUCH. (Thank you, Sheila.)

Luxury Batts, or What if you don’t want to blend your own fibres?

There’s a lot of folks who either don’t want to “blend their own” or who don’t have access to the tools to do so. For you nice folks, there are entire Etsy shops and fibre-show booths filled with “luxury batts/braids” out there. These hand-blended-in-small-batches batts (braids, whatever) are gorgeous, and soft, and oh-so-seductive. I admit to having quite a nice little stash of bumps and balls and loops and coils and braids and puffs myself, of all shapes and kinds.

Unless you are spinning these purely for pleasure, you might want to start looking a bit more closely at the ingredients, and their proportions, in such batts. I once saw a batt that had merino, pygora, cashmere, camel, angora, alpaca, silk, and yak in it.

Pretty. Luxurious, no doubt about that. But what’s the point? Is the point to have just a bunch of luxury fibres in a single yarn? Was the batt-maker choosing for colour and these just happened to be the fibres in her stash that gave her the particular colour blend she wanted?

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with putting whatever you want into a batt, or buying a batt that is made of bits and bobs of all kinds of things. One of my favourite batts to date was such a batt; it had been blended for texture and colour, not for fibre properties. It was huge fun to spin. Even as I spun it, however, I knew that I was not going to be making anything with that yarn that “needed” to have particular properties.

There wasn’t much of the batt, so I ended up blending two-thirds of the singles with a solid singles from elsewhere, to show off the crazy colours and highlight the textures. The final third I plied with itself.

Crazy Batt Singles

Fingerless mitts with fancy trim, anyone?

If you’re buying batts for a specific purpose, make sure the fibres (both in composition and proportion) the batt is made of will be good for what you have in mind.

And the flip side of that is: If you are a batt-maker and sell your batts, maybe think about labelling the batts with “serving suggestions” in terms of final project usages. Unless, of course, it’s a batt meant simply for the joy of spinning.

About the socks

I have Raynaud’s Syndrome, which means my feet don’t hold heat due to poor circulation. Sometimes in winter, they get so cold they hurt. (You may now commence the playing of the world’s tiniest symphony made up of the world’s tiniest violins. Together now: A-one, and a-two, and a-three…)

Oh yes, and of course, we ended up living in Canda. Brilliant. Thus, warm socks for me are essential.

Determined to take care of my tootsies, I chose to base my sock yarn on one of the warmest fibres on earth: Angora bunny. I mixed that with a Shetland lamb base, because the particular fleece Sheila had as a class supply choice was incredibly soft, and had a wee tiny crimp. When carded and spun (Look ma: I sampled!), the Shetland produced a lofty single that would hold air in the pockets formed by all those lovely crimpy wavelets.

Because I appear to have velociraptor-like claws in my heels which poke ginormous holes in my socks,

I added silk for durability (I considered adding a stainless steel blend like the ones sold by Habu, but had none on hand and thought that might be taking things a titch too far). So, because I don’t just like silk, I am a silk junkie, I went ahead and added a second different kind (and colour) of silk.

Finally, Sandi being Sandi, I also added just the tiniest bit of sparkle (angelina). I say the tiniest bit, because angelina can make yarn scratchy, and no one wants scratchy socks. Fortunately, angelina is also pretty powerful: A little goes a long way!

Here are the ingredients, in their proper proportions (somewhere, I even have the actual numbers written down, but for now, the visuals will have to suffice):

Clockwise from the brightest colour at top left: Rose tussah silk, brown Shetland lamb, two colours/types of Angora bunny fluff (one English, one French, if memory serves), and a small sample batt. Center: Purple bombyx silk, white angelina.

Here’s what the batts looked like after two passes through my Strauch Finest:

The singles in progress:

And finally, the finished 3-ply yarn:

The cat tail is for scale, of course.

Those photos are from November of 2011, so I took the class in August of 2011, just for timeframe reference. I finished the first sock fairly quickly; then put them down to work on some for-pay projects that needed attention. (Silly money.)

Unfortunately, I hadn’t taken good notes. I usually take great notes, but I think I got cocky, and assumed that since Cat’s instructions were so super-awesome, and since I had a skeleton pattern written out, that I would of course just magically be able to re-create everything for the second sock right out of my monstrously amazing brain.

Not. (I must have been thinking of someone else’s monstrously amazing brain. Darn. I really could use a monstrously amazing brain, truly I could.)

I spent quite a bit of time re-generating the pattern, primarily by literally counting the stitches in the first sock. (Always fun, that method.)

Despite the delay, on Thursday, January 24, 2013, I finished my very own 200% custom-made socks. I love them. However, I’d better make a second pair QUICK, because otherwise I’ll wear these every day and me and my velociraptor heels will wear them out before summer comes around.

And yes, this time I wrote down all the numbers

Great project, and so satisfying. I learned so many things about designing yarn (thank you, Sheila!) and about making yarn, just from this one project.

Chispas!

Ever seen a Tibetan sand prayer mandala being created? Here you go. There are no words.

(From the sublime to the uh, down-to-earth.) Speaking of sand, I used to love beach-combing as a kid, spending summers in Carmel, California. Even so, I just never thought of looking for whale spew.

Cute animal pic of the day: Lambs less than a day old!

There’s a bit of marketing at the very end, but the rest of the article is very thought-provoking: On Being Lonely. This article resonated with me. A lot. Your thoughts?

And one more link full of laughs for you: Cats and Water.

There’s so much more I want to talk about, so much to share. Of course…I could BLOG MORE OFTEN. ::laugh:: Yeah, yeah. Working on it.

Till next time, me hearties.

first post of 2013

Ah, the possibilities of a new year…

I’ve already finished one project this new year, one I started about a month ago. I can’t show you the entire whatsit, nor can I tell you what the pattern is, because it is a gift that has not been given yet:

The yarn is Dicentra Designs Merino Alpaca, and the colour is pretty accurate in that photo. (Yes, I put beads on it.) The object is now blocking, and once the recipient has seen it, I’ll show it off here, too!

The only trouble is: I love it so much that I am going to have to suck up my big girl priorities to make sure the whatsit makes its way to its proper new owner.

Christmas 2012 has been successfully navigated.

Remember my list of Seven Festive Things? Here’s a re-cap:

And to take care of the Christmas Child within, I made a list of seven things, seven festive things that I could reasonably do that would help feed my little holiday-hungry soul:

1. Put a wreath on the door.
2. Hang our big snowflake-of-lights on our porch.
3. Put up a small tree.
4. Make gingerbread cookies with my sweetie.
5. Have hot spicy cider in the house.
6. Hang stockings and have wee things to put in them.
7. Snuggle up with cats and beloved and dog and watch movies on Christmas Day. (I used to watch the Die Hard movies every Christmas. I got those at the discount store, and a few others. Plus, there’s always Doctor Who and Buffy!)

Here’s my post-holiday report:

1. Fresh wreath obtained for a ridiculously low price ($5! down from $30!) and hung on the front door with care. WIN.

2. Snowflake lights: This is one of the two items where we experienced Glitches. Glitch #1: I couldn’t find the snowflake lights. They are in the basement. I know approximately where they are. I dug around a bit, two days in a row, and then I shrugged my shoulders and put up a pretty poinsettia windsock as a substitute. However (Glitch #2): It got so windy Christmas weekend that I had to bring the windsock indoors. Points for effort and creative substitution.

I don’t consider #2 a Fail though, because I did manage to install this little chap on the front porch.

My inner small child is amused and pleased. WIN.

3. Small fake tree unearthed from the basement, brought upstairs, and decorated with basic ornaments in TV room. WIN

I love the wee Santa bear on the very top. BONUS WIN

4. We did not manage gingerbread cookies, at least not baking them ourselves. Our church had pre-baked cookies available after services one day for the children to decorate, so I gleefully announced my status as Temporary Honourary Small Child and sat down to decorate one of the broken ones. WIN

I love that the broken cookie I chose is missing a leg, just like my dog. MORE WIN

Mission Accomplished. And my sweetie baked a few dozen of my favourite Ginger Molasses Snapolas, so I kind of got the best of both worlds.

5. Hot Spicy Cider also experienced a Glitch. The Glitch was me. The cider is here, in the fridge. The spices are here, in the cupboard. But I didn’t manage to get these ingredients together in a pot, so hot cider is still only a possibility. However there is good news: Hot Cider is still a possibility.

6. We had stockings! We had wee gifties to put in them! We got our act together! Hooray! It was great fun. WIN again

7: Movies and snuggling: There was a sale at the discount store, and I may have gone a little crazy buying movies on DVD.  We had so many choices that we ended up not watching Die Hard; we watched the Star Trek movie (the newest one, about Young Kirk Breaking All The Rules) and a Doctor Who episode we had not seen. WIN.

I think my favourite part, besides the Star Trek movie and the snuggling, was the surprise at the end of the evening. There were three big gifts for me, and Dr. CutePants handed them to me one by one. There was quite the build-up to this, you understand. Special pile, waiting till last, all the hallmarks of a Big Fab Surprise Gift.

First: A duvet cover. (OKayyyyyy. Nice. But…a duvet cover?)

Second: A set of sheets to match the cover. (OK….again, nice. But this is Christmas. Getting bedsheets for Christmas is like getting underwear for Christmas.)

Third: A lovely, charming, stylish, beautiful set of…flannel sheets.

OK, now these I was a bit more excited about. (They are wonderful. I’ve never had really nice flannel sheets before.)

However…

You have to understand that Dr. CutePants had dragged me to the Apple Store a couple of weeks before Christmas, specifically to let me play with the new iPad and the iPad mini, in order to see which one I might like best. I played with them, and we both agreed that the new iPad was the one we both liked best.

We went home without purchasing said iPad, because…wellllll….Christmas.

Perhaps now my puzzlement at duvet cover/matching sheets/flannel sheets is more understandable.

Trying not to be ungrateful, thinking shame-facedly of third-world countries and hungry cold children, I made myself think happy thoughts of cozy nights wrapped in snowflake-decorated flannels.

Mr. Grinch attends the annual Santa Parade in our small town. He says I am just lucky he did not steal my tree and that tasty little gingerbread cookie. (Costume from Gigi’s Costumes (http://www.facebook.com/GiGisCostumeShop) on King Street in Bolton, ON)

It was then that Dr. CP started gathering up the boxes, asking me if I might check behind the tree and the furniture next to the tree “just to make sure we’d gotten everything.”

Sly, that one. “Just check,” my arse.

There was an extra present (shock! Awe! Surprise!) in back of the (unplugged) electric fireplace.

Fancy photo of Zoe taken with iPad camera…whooo!

It was an iPad.

I may have squeeed.

I know there are starving children and folks without any Christmas gifts at all. But this is the life I have, and this is the place I live in, with the connectivity requirements of the type of work I do.

The iPad is much lighter than my laptop, so I can take it places and do my blogging or writing or pattern work wherever I am, instead of waiting until I get home from my trip. (I don’t blog on the iPhone, even though there is an app…it’s just not reasonable, given my blogging style!) I can take it to the sofa with me if I am having a bad pain day, so I can play games, watch movies, or stay in touch with friends on a more regular basis. I can watch spinning videos right next to my spinning wheel. I love my laptop; but this iPad fits the way I work and live just that much better these days. It’s an excellent tool that will help me work more efficiently.

Plus, it is really super-fun.

I may have already become addicted to the Jigsaw Puzzle app. Puzzles! Pieces that the cats cannot steal/chew/mangle! Pieces that never get lost! Love. Love. Love.

It was a successful holiday, in that I found creative ways to get needs met in the face of limited resources. It was an interesting holiday, in that I had new people and new experiences all a round me. (I met a hockey puck in person for the first time! I’d never seen one nor held one before!)

It was a difficult holiday, because I’m re-evaluating a lot of things in my life, asking big questions, and searching out answers that are not the standard check-yes-or-no, answers that reach beyond my insular first-world status to try and get a glimpse of how my life fits into the larger picture, the larger home that is Gaia, our earth and our home.

It was also a loving holiday, full of the love of new family and friends, folks who welcomed me and loved me and laughed with me and taught me a lot about what family is supposed to be.

We ate all the blueberry pancakes and waffles and now we are hyped up on all-natural sugars. YAY!!

Desmond, Riscylla, and me

What Zelda Built

Heather and her charming mom, whose name has already left the Sandi Building (sorry)

May the new year be as full of love and laughter and fun and rest and creativity and beauty and peace as your heart can hold, until it overflows with gratitude and joy.

If you’d like to read a bit about my thoughts on Christmas in particular, I wrote about it on my journeying blog, heart of a sparrow, here.

Chispas

Small sparks of inspiration

• Looking for that one magical accessory that will turn any party into a fairytale event? How about adding 3D Unicorns to your eyelashes?
• Let’s say you’re a Star Trek Next Generation geek. Let’s say you have to fill a project layout proposal with fake text. Let’s say you’re a huge Riker fan. Here you go, the Riker Ipsum Generator.
• A truly imaginative way to preserve those priceless childhood crayon drawings. (We used to call them “storms” in my family.)
• When bicycle meets tree, plus 50 years.

Gratitudes

Hi, friends. I know some of you were starting to worry, what with the lack of posts and all. Hugs to everyone who thought of me, and who sent notes of caring and kindness.

After a few weeks of Sucky Stuff, I’m starting to feel human again. The torn rotator cuff that caused my shoulder to freeze up (and Ye Olde Fibromylagia to flare up) has been tamed a bit, so I can knit and type and spin again. (A Sandi who can neither write nor knit nor spin is a Very Cranky Sandi indeed.)

Tim took the opportunity to nap on the drumcarder…he figured since I wasn’t using it…

I was getting pretty pouty this time last week, though. As of then, my shoulder was still biting back, and the only sign of the festivities usually infesting our home this time of year was this:

That’s our Advent garland. We light candles every night, and then we each hang one ornament (either a glass heart ornament or an icicle), speaking aloud something we are grateful for. Some nights we miss due to events or exhaustion, then we catch up the next time we are able.

The LED lights are weirdly blue; the horrid colour of our rental home’s family room gives everything an odd sickly cast. We can’t seem to do it Every Single Night.

But it’s there, our Advent garland. And we speak our Gratitudes, and light our candles, and hang our hearts upon the branches.

It’s enough.

Or at least, I thought it would be enough.

But in my heart lives a Christmas Child, a girl who longs for all the Christmas magic that she thinks lives in other people’s houses, a youngster who is afraid of Missing Christmas somehow, a child who longs for the love and joy and family closeness that the myths of Christmas promise to us.

Last year’s Christmas tree…decorated with small toys. Because.

That child has grown into a woman who always feels somehow that she is on the outside, looking into other windows, other windows where there are Better More Christmas-y Christmases. This woman remembers Christmases past when she was not ill, when she sent out cards, decorated her entire front yard with lights, put up a six-foot Real Tree on Dec. 6 (St. Nick’s Day!), and hung stockings for all the cats.

Dusty approves of stockings for cats.

This woman grieves for the lack of energy this year to Do All The Holiday Things, the lack of children and family to spoil with presents, the circumstances that are Real Life and not a Hallmark card.

And in the midst of this truly lovely ongoing holiday pity-party, my friend Rebecca posted this:

Do not let the dream of the perfect destroy the possibility of the good.

BING BING BING

Listen to me whinge about this and that and not being able to decorate for Christmas and do presents and all that shite.

Those whinges come out of the dreams of Perfection, out of believing the myths of a Perfect Happy Christmas.

Dude…is there such a thing? For anyone? Not bloody likely.

And yet…we can blind ourselves with this Perfect Christmas Myth to the Christmas Good that is already here, now, this moment.

Only cats know how to REALLY sleep in heavenly peace.

I also want to acknowlege that whining about the lack of a Perfect Christmas is definitely a First World Problem. How selfish of me, when all you have to do is scan the homepage of any news site to see that I’m in the class of those privileged enough to even worry about a happy Christmas.

And yet…this is my life, and though I am indeed privileged, I am human, and my human heart grieves and feels loss, and to treat that grief with anything other than respect and compassion would be to stand on false ground.

One cannot try to live a compassionate life and leave one’s own inner Christmas Child out of the picture. The children who live in our hearts are the source of much that is good about us; they remember love, they hold onto joy, they still know how to play and delight in small things when the grownups they inhabit are running around grinching about the trucks on the road. (Truckers have families to feed. They bring us food and furniture and clothing and nice things. Blessed be the truckers, and may all their travels bring them safely home.)

I try to smile and wave at truckers. Sometimes I smile and wave even though what I really want to do is give them a choice set of handsignals.

Compassion starts at home. I needed to find a way to deal lovingly with the mixed-up feelings this odd holiday produces, to remind myself of the Good that is, and to share the Good with those around me.

What is it with cats and drumcarders? This time, it’s Zoe.

To acknowledge the Good That Is, I’ve started taking my Gratitudes to the street: I am thanking people. In person, in email, on Twitter, wherever. I tell them “Thank you for being xxx, and for what you’ve been to me, here’s an example of how you have touched my life, thank you so much.”

I think this might be embarrassing the heck out of some folks, because we are not used to compliments, praise, or expressions of gratitude.

I do it anyway. It’s important, methinks. How often do we REALLY let someone else know how they have touched us, or let them know how grateful we are for their presence in our life?

And to take care of the Christmas Child within, I made a list of seven things, seven festive things that I could reasonably do that would help feed my little holiday-hungry soul:

1. Put a wreath on the door.
2. Hang our big snowflake-of-lights on our porch.
3. Put up a small tree.
4. Make gingerbread cookies with my sweetie.
5. Have hot spicy cider in the house.
6. Hang stockings and have wee things to put in them.
7. Snuggle up with cats and beloved and dog and watch movies on Christmas Day. (I used to watch the Die Hard movies every Christmas. I got those at the discount store, and a few others. Plus, there’s always Doctor Who and Buffy!)

I’ve done some light shopping for gifts for my love, and have some other Evil Plots up my sleeves for what will go under the tree.

::arches eyebrows: NOT THAT SORT OF EVIL PLOT you silly humans::

We’re going to the Christmas pageant: Such adorable children in shepherd costumes; last year, one of the young three kings was annoyed by whispers in the audience, so he turned around to face us, put his fingers to his lips and SHUSHED us very loudly. Almost died of laughter…

We’re singing in the Christmas Eve choir. We’re having Christmas breakfast with dear friends who have become family.

So now, it’s your turn…my Gratitudes for you.

Dear Blog Readers,

I don’t know who you are, not all of you. I do know that you leave comments that touch my heart and make me laugh. I know that you continually ask for more, and I am so grateful that you allow me to be part of your lives. Some writers can write without anyone reading their words; I thrive when my words are part of an ongoing, living conversation, one that sparks thoughts and builds community and that speaks to other hearts. You invite me to write for you, you give me the opportunity to share my gifts, you give me the gift of thoughtful “ears” and an ineffable warm presence that is very real when I sit down to the keyboard.

For this, and for all the other blessings all around me, I am grateful.

The Chispas will be back next time…

Monday, give or take an hour of daylight

Last post, I was debating the all-consuming First World Problem of Clasps versus No Clasps on my Sandrilene:

Yes, the clasps themselves are pretty.  Yes, I was incredibly clever and added glass flower beads to each sewn point. Yes, they showed off Indigodragonfly‘s gorgeous yarn even more gorgeously.

However.

I’ve been wearing the sweater constantly for the past week, and noticed three things: (1) The clasps kept coming undone; (2) they would then get caught on my sleeves as I moved; and (3) I kept wanting to wear the sweater open and see #2 above.

I took a good look at some photos I had taken of me wearing the sweater, with clasps closed, and noticed the final sign of the apocalypse: When closed, the clasps pulled at the cables, distorting them.

DISTORTING CABLES. KNITTING HULK SAYS DISTORTING CABLES, BAAAAAAD.

Within about ninety seconds, my sharpest wee scissors had become quite snippy with the front of the cardigan (which I was wearing at the time), and the clasps, clever flower beads, sparkly seed beads, and sewing thread remnants were quickly strewn about the table before me.

And that, as they say, is that.

I’m re-blocking the fronts, just to pamper those lovely (and now claspless) cables a bit. Perhaps also to offer my apologies for the distorting.

I mean. I distorted hand-knit reversible CABLES, people. How can I ever live with myself?

Thanks to all of you for your input in the comments. You helped wake me up to reason, once again.

It takes a community to knit a sweater sometimes.

Spinning My Wheels

Hee. That, folks, is what several nights of insomnia will do for one’s sense of humour.

Maybe it’s the weather change, as we had our first snowfall this week. Maybe it’s my old sensei, Pain, come to make sure I’m up on my homework. Whatever it is, I’ve been up in the wee hours more nights than not lately, and it turns out what I really want to do in those wee hours is spin. And spin. And spin.

Last week, I finished spinning the singles of the Jacob/Polwarth/Silk tweed blend that had been wending its way through my drumcarder throughout September.

Left: Silk from Chasing Rainbows. Top right: Jacob. Lower right: Polwarth.

Batt, one pass. These colours are more accurate than above.

Two nights of insomnia later, and I had 775 yards of sproingy tweedy 3-ply yarn.

This photo has the ODDEST colour/light balance ever, and the only reason I am still posting it here is to show off the tweediness, the details and textures, of this yarn. (The true colours are closer to those in the batt photo above as well as the photo of the yarn with the plying ball bowl.) The matte purple is the Jacob; the shiny highlights of blue, green, and turquoise are the silk, and the variations in the base colour are from the multicoloured Polwarth roving.

Yarn Design

I am discovering that I LOVE designing a yarn from start to finish. I am entranced by imagining a yarn, a yarn that does not exist yet, and then going about the process of bringing it to life. I toss my stash for likely bases and additions; should my stash fall short (perish the thought!), I consider all the dyers and fleece-folk and batt-makers and fluff-producers that are within the reach of my internet browser, and I go fluff-hunting. (Hey, fluff-peeps. If you have unusual stuff, let me know. Or if you have stellar examples of The Classics, that too. Clear, interesting colours, ditto. Thanks.)

The biggest joy is that every single thing I have been taught in my fiber and spinning classes is now coming together. Thanks to Robin Russo (who first got me started thinking in this way), Sheila January, Deb Robson, Abby Franquemont, Beth Smith, Sara Lamb, Sarah Sweet, Judith Mackenzie, and all the spinners and knitters in all my classes (hedging my bets here, just because I KNOW I have forgotten someone important), I shop for spinning fiber in a whole new way these days. I spend a lot of time looking for Just The Right texture, fleece, colour, property. I don’t want just any old silk. I want THAT silk, for particular reasons: surface finish, hand, colour, texture, blending qualities, the role it will play in the finished yarn, and ultimately, in the finished object.

I don’t know why the process of blending fiber and spinning it into a yarn that previously existed only in my mind’s eye thrills me so, but it does.

I’d say this process is more fun than six barrels of kittens, but c’mon. Nothing is more fun than six barrels of kittens. (You know I’m right. Tile floors, of course, because of the clean-up and the fun of watching them sliiiiiide. Felt mice liberally strewn about. Me sitting in the middle of it all, grinning like an idiot. And you think YOU are a crazy cat lady.)

This tweedy yarn is going to become some sort of vest (or “waistcoat,” as my U.K. friends would say). I believe I even have the perfect handmade polymer clay buttons to match. (Oh, darn. That means I have to go stash-diving in my button stash. How terrible. Poooooorrr meeeee.)

Help a Master Teacher Rebuild

I mentioned Judith MacKenzie above. Judith is an internationally known spinning teacher and mentor; she is, frankly, an international treasure whose knowledge of certain indigenous fiber traditions is without equal.

Judith awarding Laura’s (TinkerTots) skein a blue ribbon!

As many of you know by now, her studio in Forks, Washington burned to the ground last week. Everything is gone: wheels, looms, class samples, the fiber work and collections of a literal lifetime spent studying and teaching worldwide. More information, as well as a link for donations to help rebuild her studio and replace her equipment, is here. If you can help get the word out in any way–tweet the link to your followers, post it on Facebook, let everyone in your guild know–I personally would appreciate it very much. Judith has taught me so much about the deep sacred joy to be found in fiberwork; my hope is that that joy can continue spreading to help heal our world, one batt, one spindle, one spinner at a time.

Chispas

Small sparks for inspiration

OK, let’s get the cute hedgehog out of the way right up front: Hedgehog getting a belly rub.

Oh, wait. I lied. Hedgehog cute not out of the way yet. A little late, but still deadly adorbs.

Clever, clever, and also a great way of making harmony happen: London’s houses that aren’t.

These are birds made of paper. I have to tell you that right up front, because if I didn’t, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you later.

Has anyone ever told you that depression is all in your head? Show them this.

If someone you know is depressed, show them this. (And let them know they are not alone. Show them my blog and tell them I’ve fought clinical depression all my life, and I know it sucks, and they are NOT ALONE.)

We had a suicide in our community last week. I feel like it’s time–past time!–for those of us who battle depression, starting with me, to step up and reach out and say that we’re stronger together in the light than we are alone in the dark.

Life hurts sometimes. And if the only balm and surcease I can provide is a damn cute rice-eating-slow-loris video, then that’s what I’ve got.

If life hurts you too much right now, please, find the courage to tell someone, even if by text message or email. You won’t be bothering us or burdening us, you will be giving us a chance to save someone special and precious and unique. YOU. (We get our knickers in a knot about saving baby snow tigers, after all. You’re just as important as that baby snow tiger. You don’t have to believe that. You just have to believe that I believe that.)

October musings

This has been the view from my desk chair for most of the week:

Today, however, the sky has apparently fallen, because all that yellow and gold and auburn is now on the ground.

I do love autumn in Ontario. (It’s only that which comes after autumn that I have unkind thoughts about.)

Finished Sweater Report: Sandrilene

Done! With a rating of F for Fabulous. (Had you there for a sec.)

Pattern: Sandrilene by Jesh

Yarn: MCN Worsted by Indigodragonfly.

Note that the colour is more accurate in the close-up photo of the clasps at the end of this post. (I think I got a little over-enthusiastic with the studio lights for the one above. Explains why the photo is too dark. Oy.)

Mods: I promised that I wouldn’t mess with Jesh’s genius. Now that the sweater is done, I can say that I must have been doped-up and singing from the upstairs window when I said that, because it’s a flat-out lie.

• I added shaping to the back because I have no butt and I always like to create the illusion of being able to sit down.
• The shaping involved adding darts that decreased from hem to waist and then increased from waist to bust, with an inch or two of “work-even” between decreases/increases.
• There were two dart lines, one on each side, about even with the insides of my shoulder blades. (I guesstimated.)
• I cast on and worked the hem and lower hip area using the numbers for the 43.5″ size.
• Somewhere around the waist, I switched to using the 39.5″ numbers.
• Yoke was worked with 39.5″ numbers.
• Sleeves and armholes were worked using a magical, mystical combination of the 39.5″ and 43.5″ numbers. (You’re welcome for that clear and precise account.)
• I was free-and-wild with the row count between cable crossovers from the bust upwards, so it’s not symmetrical. Ask me if I care.
• I added three clasps to the front.
• Overall, it is a pretty darn great fit.
• I think I wrote it all down. Somewhere.

What is wrong with this picture? (Note that in this establishment, cat/dog hair is never wrong, it is rather a “fashion accessory.”)

Next time

I’ve never said this about any other pattern, Jesh, so listen up: I want to make another one. 

(Would someone please check on Jesh now to make sure she is OK? Wave some smelling salts under her nose or something.)

Why would I make this again when I never make any pattern twice? This is the first yoke-style sweater I have ever knit; it is also the first time I have ever done shoulder saddles. It’s also the first time I have knit sleeve caps the way these were knit. Know what? BEST FUN EVER. The pattern was engaging; it was well-written; I loved the way Jesh gives you a chart of the stitches/row counts for each size in chart form, and you fill-in-the-blanks throughout the written instructions with your own numbers. This made doing modifications a breeze.

Even though I said I wasn’t going to do any modifications. Ahem.

And best of all: I love the way the finished sweater fits and looks on me. I’ve been wearing it almost constantly; it has become my grab-a-cardigan sweater and I think everyone here is already sick of seeing me wearing it.

Don’t care. LOVE IT.

Thank you, Kim, for the fabulous yarn that is soft, warm, and such a smacking-great colour. Thank you, Jesh, for the great pattern.

Here are the additional mods I would try:

• Make the fronts ~1″ wider from waist up; make the fronts ~2″ wider from the waist down.
• Lengthen the shoulder saddles by ~0.5″ each side.
• Widen the back yoke section by just a bit. An inch overall?
• Add just a few rows to the sleeve cap section on each side.
• I also might add a few extra sts in width to the top of each sleeve for my bulging hard-body muscles.

Clasp Woe: I am wavering about the clasps. They are gorgeous; Norwegian pewter from Gemini Fibres. And because I am me, and therefore cannot help myself, I added a small glass flower and seed bead to each stitching-point. (OH COME ON PEOPLE. Even if you’ve only been reading this blog since last month, you should know me by now.)

But The Spouse About The House likes the sweater better without them. I am undecided. Opinions/rants/commands/ravings?

Pro tip: Use a tripod if you are trying to take photos of your own boob area. Otherwise, due to the giggling factor, you will never get a photo that is in clear focus.

Chispas!

“small sparks” for inspiration

~ In case you don’t feel like eating your broccoli, you could always just run it through an MRI machine.

~ Is it time for pie? Sure it is. Sweet Potato Pie with Cinnamon Roll Crust, in fact.

~ See this sock drawer? Those are all handknit socks. There are 31 pairs in there, enough so that you could wear a fresh pair every single day of the month. I know this person. She seems really nice in person, really sweet, really normal, (normal even for a knitter, I mean). But her sock drawer…bothers me. Know why? BECAUSE I’M JEALOUS.

~ I’m not really obsessed with Legos. Besides, this is street art. I love serendipitous art more than I can say.

~ What do you get when you give a bird a camera? Breath-taking photos.

~ Need to invite a friend over last-minute for All Hallows? No friends available that evening? Knit yourself a vampire. (And it’s a free pattern…what a nice treat.)

~ And of course, the obligatory cute animal links:

~~ Cat In A Box…Almost.

~~ Fox Discovers Trampoline.

~~ What Your Pets Are Planning To Do While You Are At Work On Monday.

That’s it until next time. If you think you missed my Rhinebeck post, well…you didn’t. I didn’t go to Rhinebeck, so I get to write a Whinebeck post instead. 

Quick post, with sheep

My laptop is currently having a hissy fit, so I’m doing a mini-post on my iPhone.

We shall see if this works or not.

I’ve been washing fleeces for days; my house is currently bedecked in random spots with nearly dry fleece bits.

This is one of those days where you fervently send out mental messages to everyone you know: DO NOT COME TO MY HOUSE TODAY. It wouldn’t be a surprise to those who know me, but it sure makes me look even more eccentric than my press releases may have indicated. If I had press releases.

As I’ve lived my eccentric little life this week, I’ve been thinking about sheep.

I know, you’re shocked and awed.

So when I was driving home from an appointment, I rather thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.

This is literally four minutes from my house.

I parked and went over to the fence to have a little chat with my fluffy new friends. Most were white, with nearly horizontal ears and clean faces. (Deb Robson would glow with pride right now if she knew I’d just written that.)

There were two with black faces and legs; and as you can see from this photo, the two blackfaces had been hiding a wee goat behind a tree.

Later, I’ll go check my class notes and my copy of Deb’s book so I can take a stab at identifying the breed(s) of sheep living practically in my backyard.

Uh-oh, busted. The Sheep Police are coming to talk to me. See y’all later when my laptop is done meditating.

You’ll have to forgive the lack of Chispas on this post. I type one-fingered on my phone (not THAT finger, Jillian), and it’s realllllllyyy slowwwwww.