- It snowed about four inches today.
- I haven’t knit a single stitch yet (but hey, it’s only 6 PM).
- We’ve had the wood stove lit since early morning, and all day long it has smelled heavenly in here.
- Nicholas is making roasted stuffed poblano peppers for dinner and now it smells even more heavenly in here.
- My sinuses are exploding, making it hard to think, let alone write. (From the weather, not from the wood stove.)
- My friend Amy has been baking chocolate gingerbread cookies; she decorated them in her typically awesome style:
- Your comments were so amazing that I sort of want to just mull them over for a while before we discuss.
Well. Except that I like how Purlista summed up what many of you said:
You’re our invisible friend.
I can totally live with that.
I think feedback is really important in any relationship; as a blogger, it’s really easy to feel as though one is shouting into a big empty cave. (Yes, I realize we are discussing your comments now, despite #7 above. So much for mulling them over.) Back when I was a professional church soloist, I used to describe the phenomenon of singing to a non-responsive congregation as “singing to a life-sized oil painting of a congregation.” Blogging can feel that way, too: You write and you write; you spend time taking photos; you talk about your readers to your husband and your sister and your friends as though they were real…but if no one leaves comments, then it’s hard to know if anyone’s really Out There.
I do like blogging to be a conversation, it’s true. Back when I was doing Knitting Daily three times a week, it was the comments that kept me fresh, it was the comments that gave me new things to think about when I was stuck, it was the comments that helped me keep going during long meetings about the business side of the blog. There was many a meeting when I read your comments aloud to the executives in the room (you didn’t know that, did you?), when I stood up for one thing or another because you had let me know it was important to you by leaving me a comment saying so.
I always felt as though you, the readers, were my co-workers there, in that you helped me co-create what Knitting Daily was in those early days.
Just as you are now helping me to co-create this blog…because all the best conversations are two-way. (Thank you.)
Something Awesome and Awe-Inspiring
I’m sewing, with close supervision from the cats.
That’s seven yards of handwoven fabric, the most gorgeous stuff I have ever seen. No, I didn’t weave it, my friend Lynn did. She wove it out of hundreds of yards of handspun yarn, donated by about 80 people in our internet spinning group. It’s a group gift for someone special; I can’t say more than that in case the recipient reads this blog.
This project has been such an honour to work on; it’s deeply moving to be stitching along and realize that every thread is the work of some individual hand, some person whom I interact with in one way or another. I look at the pink strand that is my current stitching guide, and wonder who spun it, what they were thinking about when they made it, and what they would think if they knew that their pink yarn was guiding my every stitch.
I’m hand-sewing the project; the white yarn you see in the photo is commercial cotton basting thread. (The actual sewing thread I am using is my own handpsun silk. Why, yes, I am certifiably crazy.) I’ve done a big chunk of the sewing already; today was the day I Put The Pieces Together. Ooooooh! Exciting.
Especially exciting, as today, I discovered why Basting Is A Good Thing. I spent quite a while, an hour or more, laying out pieces and matching stripes and deciding which side was the Outside and which was the Inside, which edge was going to go Down and which was going to go Up…and then, carefully, making sure everything was perfect, I basted two of the longest seams together.
I finished, snipped the thread ends, shook the thing out, held it up for the cats’ inspection…and discovered I had sewn the Up to the Down instead of to the Other Up, and the Front to the Back instead of to the Other Front.
Upon which discovery, I carefully folded the entire thing, placed it safely in its protective bag, and put it away until tomorrow.
Today’s Random Good