Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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2 Comments:While I am a FIRM believer in home being best as well, I still can't wait to see you, dearest... I'll try to give you a good enough hug to make it worth the time away from BD, the aunts, BP (love the CJ name!) and all your darlings...
you wouldn't want to miss meeting me??????? Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Monday, May 02, 2005 The Spring Fling bag is felted and drying. I took a photo of it pre-machine washing and will take another when it’s dry so that, by posting them, I can stay in all the fiber blog rings. It’s a really really really really cute bag. It’s so cute even BD could recognize that it was a pocketbook. It doesn’t have hair. I didn’t use an eyelash yarn as the carry along, I used some leftover Mountain Colors brushed mohair in a blend of pinks that makes my skin look jaundiced. Mixed with the spring green it becomes a very pretty marled fabric. Alas, it does have mohair fuzz. I may shave it off or I may use scissors to shorten the fuzz. I like the silky feel of the mohair but I know it will pill up and get ratty looking sooner or later. The decision can wait, though - till the bag is completely dry. It really is spring-y looking too. It looks just like the farm, all greeny pretty with lots of flower colors mixed in. I think it looks more spring like than the original. But I am just about eyelashed out. When I first saw eyelash yarn, lawsee, back in ‘98 or ‘99, I was so intrigued. I think only Prism made it and it was $42 a skein! I popped for a single, assured by the old Patternworks copy editor that ONE skein made a scarf! Of course, I didn’t buy the ONE pattern - I mean, who needs a pattern for a garter stitch scarf? - so when it came, I cast on something like 50 stitches. That sounded pretty reasonable to the woman who hadn’t knit anything since 1978. I got a lovely little eyelash place mat. Ripped and recast onto the needles at 30 stitches I got a lovely little eyelash diaper. Now - I confess, though I always imagine what a really soft yarn would feel like knit into a bra or panties, the word diaper has way too many other connotations to seem luxurious to me. Ripped and recast a third time, now only 11 stitches, I did get a novelty yarn scarf, but alas, all the lashes had become very curly. You will note, I don’t say ratty - because at first the scarf wasn’t really ratty looking. It became ratty looking with very little wear, but by then I didn’t care any more. It was high summer in Virginia and who thinks of fluffy winter scarves when it’s 98 degrees, 98 % humidity and 100% drought? I wore it the next winter. I lost it soon after. I have a nicer eyelash novelty yarn scarf now that BH made for me. It wasn’t ripped out 3 times so it’s not curly and I take rather better care of it. I know where it is. (On the bed in LD’s old room, with the winter hats, waiting to be put in the attic.) I’m still enough of a magpie to be attracted to the novelty yarns when I’m in a yarn shop. My fingers reach out, they touch, my eyes widen, my nostrils flare with excitement at the glitter and flutter and sparkle, but when I purchase, I buy plain worsted weight. I know what I’ll wear. I know what I really want to knit. I know that my fingers really don’t like needles larger than 8’s. I’m glad there is novelty yarn. I’m even gladder to see bins of it in shops. I feel as if I’m at a jewelry store where you can fondle the merchandise. I’m really really glad that it attracts new knitters because the more knitters there are the more yarn shops I can go to. But I’m gladdest of all that there are still plenty of top quality, high end, yarns in a variety of smaller weights and an assortment of delicious fibers all just waiting for me to actually knit with. Yes. These are the good old days. Most of yesterday was spent playing with BD and BP. A lot of stuff was going on just below the surface. I can sense a little wistful sadness floating around BD’s psyche. I have been prepared for it - can’t really say I expected it - but I wasn’t surprised or upset by it. I was just there to stroke and touch and read the first 3 simply horrible paragraphs of each of the 1984 O’Henry Award short stories. Gawd they were awful. I love short stories - I respect them more than any other type of fiction. They give you the magic - the pivot - the raison d’être, and they have to do with skill and truth and brevity. Every novel has to start with a short story. I have read some short stories that are absolute diamonds of perfection. But not yesterday. Since both of us subscribe to the Doctrine of Pleasure, when I got sick of any of the stories we were reading I could just go on to the next. For some reason, BD wants to give Each & Every One a chance - but when we are done I am going to put this book in the stove. It sucks. I think he is getting some sort of perverse pleasure out of being completely repulsed by bad fiction, but then - he will watch sick-o movies too, once he’s begun one. I do not waste time on someone else’s bad imagination. I can waste my time on my own bad imagination, thank you. But I know what he really wanted was to be cosseted and coddled and babied and talked to and stroked and that I could do. Also - I know I’m off to MSW this coming weekend and that is 4 days away from him - 4 days when he is going to be holding on tight to Captain Jack. I’ll speak to TheDarlings and ask them to give him extra attentions and I bought him a ticket to the bluegrass festival across the river at Menokin, whose foundation president has an enormous crush on him and will single him out for special attention. Since I know TheDarlings are going too, I hope they’ll take him with them. But I also know he’s not going to enjoy this coming weekend, and empathy is going to cast a little cloud over my own pleasure. Not enough to blot out the sunshine of all these fabulous women I will be with and the fabulous fiber we will be surrounded by. Just enough to remind me that really, east or west, home is best. I swear, if the hotel rooms weren’t in my name and under my credit card . . . Well, at least weather dot come promises 79 and partly cloudy for Frederick. This is good since rain is predicted for Upper Tidewater Virginia. CuteLittleBabyPuppyCaptainJack spent the night in his puppy pen at last. He’d climbed out of it on Saturday night, which is why BD put him on the porch. More carpentry made that impossible, so he will begin to learn about the World-0-Dogs. It is my firm belief that all dogs do best when they sleep outdoors. I know it’s not possible for all dogs and there are many satisfactory alternatives. But outdoors is my bed of choice for dogs. Of course, there’s plenty of time in the evenings and early mornings for cute little baby puppy dogs and their big dog aunts to get up in the BigBed; especially in a household where one person stays up till thirteen o’clock and the smart person goes to bed at 9 and gets up at 5 or 6. It means only a few hours outdoors in the Dark O th’Night. But that’s when the good stuff happens. That’s when enemies abound and canine talents at barking, growling, dashing and howling really get a chance to shine. Also, sleeping on dirt rubs off dander, which is good for allergy moms. So. All in all, I think we provide the perfect dog setting and if I could be reincarnated, I would like to come back as a Haile Dog. And since I can’t die and come back as my own dog, I am glad to provide Dog Heaven to other dog souls. And now it is Monday. I have nothing to knit on . . . oh no. I can knit on baby booties and I’ll be glad to have a mindless project to occupy my hands in the car this weekend. But first I have to get through the next 4 days, short staffed still, because L is out sick at the end of her vacation. Ahh yes. And I see there is just enough time to write to the helicopter people all the interesting numbers related to my health insurance. Lucky me. posted by Bess | 6:56 AM |
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