Like The Queen
Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.


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Tuesday, February 24, 2004  

I finally got in a workout with TthePT yesterday. Whew! She did me in. I was hungry all afternoon and when I got home I crashed at 8:30 and didn’t wake up till morning. Do you know what she made me do?!? (No, of course not.)


Yes. Well, there is a right way to do them where it doesn’t really hurt - though it was a bit tough on the wrists. We’re going to work on that. But at the end of the session she was still reeling from my dirty look of astonishment, when I realized what she expected me to do. I bet she’s laughing still. Nevertheless, doing a push-up the right way with someone making sure your form is dead on really is a delicious sensual experience. Really!

Today being Tuesday - and Tuesday meaning WW - this is a timely subject. I am having a very difficult time with maintenance and missing the weight sessions has been a part of the difficulty. Not only do I not come from a physically active family, BD hates the gym and sends out subtle negative messages about my going there. He’s a natural man and the concept of lifting weights is creepy to him. His idea of weight lifting is FIREWOOD in all it’s permutations, from cutting down trees to splitting the logs to hauling, stacking and bringing it in. (if only he’d sweep up the sawdust afterwards.) He’s got a point, but firewood puts splinters in your fingers when it isn’t smashing them. Besides, it’s guy work and in our house no guy has ever done gal work. I don’t do firewood. We heat only with firewood, so it’s a year round chore. Good for him.

In addition to all the other people I can blame this on - going to the gym takes a good chunk out of the day. If I’m serious about working all the muscle groups, each session takes about an hour and a half. So now I’m screwing with the lunch schedule at work. And I’m tired. And it’s so cold outside. I get to thinking I’ll just go home after work.

Yeah. Right.

I did some serious soul searching about this last week and realized that I really want this fitness. Without it, I notice little aches, little wobbles, a little less ability to move through the world. I want this most of all. It has to be #1 priority in my daily routine. I got in some good workouts and was primed for more lessons yesterday. They don’t come cheap - but my goodness they feel so good!

There are some eating issues too - Some behaviors that shock me with their familiarity and destructiveness; with the meager pleasure they bring when my subconscious was so sure they would make me happy. Well. It is an ongoing process. Suffice it to say that I have gained beyond what is allowable in the wiggle-room that WW gives you. I have one week to reverse that - so in fact, I am back on the weight loss journey. And somewhere inside me there is a spark of resentment, a kind of naughty child who I am so sick of disciplining, I’ve quit paying attention to it. Now, behind my back it’s gotten into more trouble. Time for the parent in me to get back on the job. I have to pull that bad child out and admit that it’s my responsibility. Enforce the rules - break bad.

Well - I had been warned. It’s a lifetime journey.


I didn’t do a lick on anything fiberish yesterday, after spinning up the first segment of silk top. Alas - What stupidity! I forgot to make any notation about what color section I started with. If I want to be able to ply blue with blue and gold with gold, I have to begin spinning the second bobbin with the same color I used to start the first. I hadn’t made a note of what I started with because I figured I’d know by looking at the color I ended with. Only, somehow, when I split the long length of roving in half, I didn’t split it in the correct place. This second length doesn’t have a gold segment on either end!!!

This has me pretty frustrated but it also forces an issue that I hinted about yesterday. I have a limited amount of this stuff to begin with. Nothing to spare. So I am going to separate the colors, spinning all the cool blues and turquoise and purples first and then all the warm bronzes and golds. I will let the color change sequences be completely dominated by the first bobbin while letting the cool or warm shadows be created by the second bobbin.

As for how much I will have when done? Ahh well. All I can tell you is that I am spinning a yarn that knits on size 3 needles at 5 stitches to the inch. This is something I’ve never had happen with a commercial yarn - getting such a big gauge with such little needles. I like the fabric well enough - though I think I would have liked something a little thinner. But spinning such fine yarn is a new enough experience for me, I got nervous about it and spun a thicker, more familiar size single. Besides, the color work decisions have so dominated the problem-solving parts of my brain, that worrying about gauge-math has been relegated to the future. I suspect there won’t be enough yarn to make a tank top but I may be wrong and I wouldn’t have missed this fun discovery process for all the tank tops in Hechts.

What I did do was to get on the phone and order 8 more ounces of un-dyed silk top from Spirit Trail Fiberworks. I will dye my own and make sure I have what I want.

And finally, I offer you this, from the NYT. It seems every sort of needle art is getting press these days, not just knitting. And for $425, you, too, can have 6 weeks of instruction in the mysteries of garment construction! Perhaps I ought not sound so cynical, but lawsee! Reading about the trendiness of what used to be sneered at as demeaning women’s work doesn’t sit well on my stomach. Ahh well, there. It’s just a sign that I’ve packed a slew of years into my sack. I took my sewing lessons from the Home Ec teacher at GW Highschool when I was 12. And my mama didn’t pay any $425 either - nor even the $ equivalent of that. If she paid $20 it would surprise me.

Where did the time go?

posted by Bess | 6:51 AM