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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1 Comments:
Aaargh! I come back from Scenic Alaska to find you have injured yerself! Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Tuesday, August 02, 2005 Well, yes LWLY, I can spin with my right foot but I don’t. I tend to torque my body when I use the right foot to spin, bringing on sciatica, so I pretty much avoid spinning with the right foot unless I’m doing a short draw or plying a true boucle yarn. Then it’s fairly immaterial which foot I use. Alas, the stuff I’m working with demands to be spun with a faux long draw technique. But not to worry - I don’t have to spin. I can always knit! For that matter, I can spin with my spindle. And I shall do very little of either today because I’m going in to work. The ankle is better - not well - but okay. I have to wear the jogging shoes, to support my foot and to keep from becoming cranky. The ugly shoes may mean I have to find a pair of long pants to wear - something I really hate to do in summer. Eh well. Fashion has it’s power and looking deliberately ridiculous is something I only willingly do if it can be done with style. I did not finish HP yesterday. I did make progress. I’m past the half way point. It’s cute. It’s not really enough of a story to hold me and if I didn’t work in a library I wouldn’t bother to finish it. But people will want to hear my opinion about it and I have to read it to have one. This isn’t always true. Some books are bad enough that I can talk about my reasons for not reading them at length. Bad books deserve to be sliced to pieces with my razor like intellect and matching tongue. (in cheek, here, dearies) I don’t have a strong enough reaction to HP to toss it across the room, like I did the Da Vinci Code. That was a book that was fun to despise on literary grounds. HP is no stimulate for vituperation. It’s just a pretty good book. So I’ll finish it and share my views with those who ask for them. I wonder, how many folk hear the movie theme whenever they try to read the book. I spent a little time (after I hopped about my bedroom on one foot, pushing the vacuum cleaner) thinking about what knitting classes I’d like to teach this fall. I’ve come up with 1 all day workshop, 2 2-hour workshops, a 2 week sock class and the ubiquitous beginner class. Scheduling them will be a challenge. I’ve had several folk ask for an evening beginner class, enough to fill one up I believe. It may be that I shall only do the workshops on Saturdays. I’ll try to hustle along with this scheduling stuff and contact the Parks & Rec gal in time to get posters up and notices in the paper before Labor Day. And so, I knit a little, read a little, watched a little spinning on the VCR. I also decided to look into having my sister, the commercial artist, transfer my spinning & knitting videos onto DVDs. I don’t really like the DVD format, because it’s non-sequential and flickers and jumps around like lightening. But more and more video info is going DVD and less and less is being produced on cassette. BD can, if he is forced to, learn how to operate a DVD player, but he will never succeed in mastering a switch between one technology and the other. He has already told me does not intend to try. This is not because he is stupid but because the process is needlessly complex and couched in such spurious jargon only a mind still fixated on secret decoder rings could have created it. I don’t blame him. I have the same complaints about some of the software I use at work. I don’t use it enough to remember it, and the switch into it is designed by people whose brains move in serpentine, tortuous pathways and who expect me to follow their circuitous reasoning with ease and a blithe spirit. Or perhaps, they just don’t care if I follow or not. After all. I’m well into geezerdom. Like a dog that talks, 50 plus-ers are worth staring at when they manage to master new technologies, but they’re not someone you would actually listen to. Their complaints about the superfluous complexities of technology are just proof that their brain synapses are no longer firing. And they are probably right. I don’t know which I miss most - my youthful appearance or my facile mental processes. It matters little, they are both gone. Fortunately, I can still wrap my fingers around ancient technologies. Where is that drop spindle? posted by Bess | 7:12 AM |
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