Archive for June, 2006


Friday, June 30th, 2006

I am leaving just as soon as I can get myself together.  I’ll be spending the night at Houghton Lake, then in the morning I’ll drive the rest of the way to the best place in the world.  Hahhahaha it’s mine!!

(Emily chooses to guard the stash while I am gone.  What a noble duck she is.  I’ll get her for that entry, though…)

I’ll have a real post later.  =D

*waddle waddle…peeeers around corner*

Thursday, June 29th, 2006

Quack quack! The coast is clear.

Ms. Mouse has been sooo delinquent in her entries that I thought I would take matters into my own feet. (You should really try webbed feet, they make swimming much much easier.)

She has been hiding this from you! Look at the progress from the last picture. Just look. She doesn’t think it is interesting enough to post? Well, I do. After all, this is sort of a knitting blog, yes? That’s what I thought, anyway. And I, Emily the Yarn Duck, why I am the mascot!! Well, I am feeling neglected.

Oh, it’s not so bad. There is plenty of yarn around to mind, and mind it I do. I have to keep those ends nice and neat. Sometimes it fights and gets into a tangle. Then of course, she goes tearing through in a rush, pulling things out left and right in a haphazard manner, then just shoves them back in again. My work is so underappreciated.

So here I am. And you know what? This is not the only thing.


Okay, I haven’t quite mastered the use of the camera completely. I set it on the couch on the timed setting, and it gets a little wobbly. But do you see my point? Tons of progress. Those are little needles she’s working with on that one.

Oh, and this was the last straw.


She came home with those today. She didn’t even tell me first. I quacked at her angrily, ruffling my feathers and scolding until she explained.

Those are the beginnings of a sweater. She just bought a lonely two balls, one in each color, for the purpose of swatching. The others are sitting in a bag at Flying Sheep. (She knows how I hate it when she splits the yarn up! No respect. Honestly.) I’ll nag her a little bit, and maybe I can get her to post a sketch.

The brown yarn is the discontinued Rowan Yorkshire Tweed 4ply. It is very very nice yarn. I do not know why they discontinued it.

Oh! Must rush. She is coming back! See, I had the chance because she was listening to music. She was slumped over with her eyes closed, and I swear that he brains had all leaked out in a gloomy little puddle. I quacked racously in her ear for a while, but she just sighed and turned her head.

I’ll leave you with this, a not quite poem that she had to write for class fall quarter. She doesn’t like it, but I do. The first instruction was to write a five line life story from the perpective of a myterious object. She chose “duck”. They only had two minutes for the first part, and thirty seconds for the second.

(1) The duck cloth, of an apron, a jumper, a blanket? Ducks in the tub.

(2) Ducks in the pond. Quack quack! I want to touch their ruffled feathers. We shan’t eat ducks for christmas dinner.

(3) Teasing pre-teens cackle, and I quack softly. Ducks in the courtyard.

(4) Remember the ducks?! Purple, pink, four ducks on a string. Rolling on wheels.

(5) Where are all the ducks? In my mouth. Pronouncing “ducks”. It clicks and rolls and satisfies my mouth.

Then she had to give a piece of mysterious advice by that object.

Waddle waddle, quack, snap! Entice life with webbed feet.

Then, my favorite part. After she read it they called her a duck! She’s going to kill me for this…

What to post?

Wednesday, June 28th, 2006

Yesterday was about death. Most importantly, the one year anniversary of my uncle’s death. Read Moom for the full story. This family got hit by a short, fast train that left us with a small and varied collection of “Amazon” women.

My communication skills are sorely lacking, but I love all of you. Everyone gets knocked flat on the sand sometimes, and I’m so glad that I ended up down there with people who laugh more than they cry.

And speaking of sand, I can’t wait to see you all next week. Even if the reason is not what I would prefer for a reunion.

Death showed up all over the place yesterday, probably because I was already thinking about it. I sat at the yarn store, thinking how strange it was that I was sitting in the same place as I was one year ago when my telephone rang. (Maybe in my subconscious it was not such an accident that I forgot my telephone.)

I cannot describe my day to you easily. Out of the context of my mind the connections are brittle. It would probably take me hours to figure out how to convey my thoughts.




Actually, look. I’m going to break down. Maybe not all at once…

We’ll see. The third book is not out yet, but I am assuming that it is going to be good like the other two.

They are nice inspirational books. I already have some ideas, just from glancing through them. Sometimes I think that I have too many ideas already, however it makes me happy. (Yes, yarn counts as “ideas”).

I need to go knit!!

That and read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. I promise some finished project entries soon. Emily is getting very impatient.  Also coming soon, the last two days of Bonnaroo!! Yes, I am a bad person, it is true. I am also a bad person who loves to knit. Things are starting to fall into place again, so don’t worry. I’ll be back to writing regularly quite soon.

Bonnaroo, Part II *Warning, I did not edit!*

Monday, June 26th, 2006

All right, all right!

Posting about Bonnaroo is intimidating. So much happened that I just don’t know how to fit it all in. I need to just *do* it so that I can go back to posting normally and not feeling guilty because I’ve missed.

But first…

Yesterday I was such a slug. I mean it. I did not get out of bed until…could it really have been 1 PM? I don’t want to think about it. I sludged around feeling exhausted until Amanda convinced me to go downtown around four.

Best idea ever!! I bought books with money I definitely should not have spent. We got coffee-ish drinks, knitted, ate, knitted, sat in the diag, knitted, walked, knitted. Suddenly it was 10:30, and we drove by the river. (I told you! The pattern of my days is so predictable. Also, I always feel like I should say “knit” rather than “knitted”, and “that is a knit garment” rather than “knitted garment”. Why did they ever make it “knitted”? It sounds so much better the other way! Like the “platypuses/platypi debate–another favorite stem word. Er, not to imply that you can stem many words from “platypus”. But I digress.)

Then we watched The Prize Winner of Defiance Ohio, which is where I begin to question events of today. I was up until 2 AM. Then I woke up at 6:30 AM. I don’t have a headache, I don’t feel bleary, and I don’t need a nap. We needed to take the car in anyway, so Moom and I dragged over there. We had breakfast at The Broken Egg after much deliberation, and questioned Froggy’s work routines. Line Belt…

We walked downtown and wandered, then walked to pick up the car. No sleep + walking = …Mouse still does not need a nap? I don’t understand. I am not even in a particularly bad mood.

Alright alright, I know my days are boring. The lace grows…


Friday morning we woke up *early* (it’s hard to sleep in when you’re in a field in Tennessee in the sun), drank coffee and ate potato/egg omelets, lazed about for a few minutes sunscreening and trying to figure out the best manner of dress for the heat, then made our way down to the Centeroo area.

First, a note about porta-potties. !!What on earth takes so long??!? Some people would be in those things for upwards of ten minutes. Now, I don’t know about you, but the main goal of everyone I know is to get in and out of those things as quickly as possible. I know some things take longer than others, but this was like every three people. Were they meticulously laying out their toilet paper so that they could sit down, then falling asleep in the suffocating heat? Daddy made the same joke about six different times over the weekend, that “they must be serving cigars and coffee in there!!” Ha. We won’t even talk about things hidden behind the car wheel.

Alright back to business. Centeroo. The first thing we did was to sit down near the Solar stage, where Wild Shadow was playing. They were decent, however I much prefer the Indigo Girls and Dar Williams. This idle sitting was one of the most important parts of our days. It was really the most restful time we had. Anyway, by evening I could not even thing about sitting or my hip muscles would cramp.

They had barely finished playing, when I heard the unmistakable sound of Andrew Bird setting up. He was not scheduled to play for another hour and a half, but we went to investigate anyway. There was a motely crowd already gathered under That Tent, including a failed transvestite. The reason this sticks out was because she (I’m sure he was a man, but I would like to be polite) was older than most of the crowd, and also extremely unkempt in a way that most people weren’t. To each his/her own.

We wandered off to wait, passing David Ford at the Sonic Stage and picking up a nice little Bonnaroo newspaper at the entrance. Then we wandered into a small fenced-off area with Tables and Chairs (Trivia – which artist that we saw at Bonnaroo has a song with that title? No cheating!) and sat under a tree. We had “lunch”, while Daddy read the paper and I worked on my knitting.


The rest of the day would be a blur of rushing between acts as most of what I wanted to see was occurring in rapid succession.

We saw Andrew Bird at That Tent. All I have to say is…anyone who can play guitar, glockenspiel, violin, sing, andwhistle like that all at once has got to be pretty amazing. Oh yeah, and write songs! He is a true artist, with an incredible ear. Anyone who can get that many violin melodies repeating at once and have it sound *musical* is a genius. Once again, have I even mentioned how much I love violins?

Then a bit of Ben Folds at the Which Stage. We were not very close, so no pictures.

Then Devendra Banhart at That Tent.


They gave a creditable performance, and in the middle asked if anyone in the audience wrote their own music. They invited some kid up on the stange to sing a song. !!He was really really good!!! Everyone loved it.

Then Bright Eyes (Conor Oberst in the white) at the Which Stage.

One of my all time favorite bands. He does not have a great voice in most people’s standards, but I love it. I can’t talk about Bright Eyes for less than three pages at a so I’m going to stop while I am ahead. I cry every time he plays Poison Oak. =D

Then Cat Power (and the Memphis Rhythm Band) at That Tent



This is where a horrible thing happened. See, Death Cab for Cutie and Cat Power overlapped, with Death Cab running only fifteen minutes longer. We. Missed. Death Cab.

But then again…Here is the logic. I have seen Death Cab before. Also, their newest album, Plans, is not very good. There are a few songs that I listen to and it is decent music, but it just is not as good as their older material. I had never seen Cat power, and also she does not tour the US as often as would be convenient for my purposes. I had to see Chan Marshall, and I did eventually make it up to the fifth row (short people unite, I couldn’t see anything until then!) by the time she played Love and Communication, the best song off her newest CD. (Don’t let the title fool you. You know I don’t listen to sappy music.)

She was amazing as expected. Another of my favorite artists. I only wish that she had played some more old music, but with the band she really couldn’t do much of that. (Still…Cross Bones Style? He War? Metal Heart? Taking People? All MIA, along with all my other favorites. Those were just the ones that came to mind at a glance, but there are many more. Trust me.)

It still did not help when the people next door told us that Death Cab was the best concert they had ever seen. On the other hand, I am reluctant to trust their judgment as they spent most of the weekend drunk, missing all the good bands, or fighting with each other about tarps. (Oh, and I sliced my toe open on their nearly invisible tarp string after tripping on it at least seven times).

We went back to the tent for dinner after Cat Power, and realized our mistake. Instead of cooking, we should have bought dinner by the music and gone to see Tom Petty. Don’t kill us! We could hear him very very clearly from our tent, so we did not miss it entirely. I was completely exhausted. I collapsed into sleep on a misshapen lump in the ground, and slept incredibly well despite the fact that I was constantly contorting my spine into different impressive shapes in a desperate attempt to be something passing for “comfortable”.

The hardest part of the festival would turn out to be knowing that certain artists were there–and that we did not go. One of the best, music aside, would turn out to be the food…

More on that later.

As I continue my failure to post…

Sunday, June 25th, 2006

Nothing terribly exciting is going on around here. I promise. My only explanation is that life is catching up with me a little bit, and between the good and the bad I don’t have that much to say about anything.

An interesting phenomenon seems to be that the less I *have* to do, the less I get done regardless of what it is. I am more likely to post on a busy day than a quiet one.

Peacock feathers is growing slowly, as is Snowdrop. Oh, and just for kicks, this is the layout of my days in general terms.

8:00 AM – Wake up, groan, roll over, doze until

9:00 AM – Wake up, twist into unnatural position, tuck legs into cool part of bed, doze until (Alternately, for work days – Fall out of bed in a dizzy sort of manner, catch self on the bed on as legs collapse, steady, stretch, read until 9:35 or so, leave to sell yarn to crotchety old ladies forr a few hours)

11:00 AM – Wake up (later than intended, but easily fooled by the earlier sleeplessness), contemplate breakfast, decide that it is too far away. Find book instead. Read/knit until some ungodly hour like

1:00 PM to 3:00 PM – Look at clock, berate self, dredge up car keys, (hey! It is nice out!), realize free parking is at least three hours away. Scour for change, wander downtown aimlessly until I end up in Ambrosia/Amer’s/assorted coffee shops/borders/library. Sit. Read/knit.

6:00 PM to 8:00 PM – Look at clock for first time in hours. Slowly drag home for dinner. Call Amanda and whine a lot until she comes out with me to shut me up.

2:00 AM – Oh no oh no oh no! How on earth did it get to be so late?? Fall into bed, knit the last few rows/read.

Ad nauseam.

See? You’re not missing anything. I mean, fine. There is a small portion of variation in all that. Like running into people downtown and not recognizing them, driving up all my gas money by the river, having cell phone antennas stuck up my nose, intense and loud discussions regarding the pros and cons of particular fibers (mostly the ungodly horrors of acrylic) and the concept of “rotating yarnovers”, illegally napping, coffeecoffeecoffee, eating too much, sulking too much, and not calling people who really deserve my attention but don’t get it because I spend all my time on the above useless pursuits.

You know, the usual.

Ad nauseam“, by the way. Overwhelming repetition of something to the point of nausea. Somehow that is a perfect description of everything at the moment. It is my own fault, but still not so enjoyable. I intend to fix that quite soon.

I need to finish posting about Bonnaroo, and I *promise* to get to it within a few days. Today though, I have once again let it go too long. I refuse to start a Bonnaroo post at 1:41 AM. The next question is why on earth am I still up…

Oh, yeah. One last thing. I haven’t quite figured out why this is so amusing yet, but go buy some sheep. (Thanks Daddy for the link!!)


Thursday, June 22nd, 2006

I have spent the last hour debating what sort of excuse I can give for my long absence from writing. These are the best of them:
1) My yarn turned against me.

No, really. It decided that I was too neglectful and did not have the strength of will to face my unfinished projects, and so cocooned me in a giant wooly tomb. (With a little silk, alpaca, and mohair for added deadliness). Fortunately, I was armed at the time with an extra sharp set of addi turbos, and managed to find the end of one of the skeins. It was a struggle, but finally I escaped by knitting it all into a giant pterodactyl. But alas! I can’t show you the evidence, as the moment I finished hiding my ends with great satisfaction, it took flight off into the sky and disappeared forever. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

2) I was asleep

for the entire space of the last three days. My head was just so heavy that I collapsed in a nest of blankets and partially finished shawls (don’t worry, they’re all on circular needles) and could not get up again. Eventually I fell into a thick sleep and got stuck. Honestly, I tried everything I could to wake up, but nothing would do. When I finally stopped fighting I awoke, overcome with guilt and pain, and could not bring myself to write a single word.

3) I made The Wonderful Flight To The Mushroom Planet. Read the book for reference. It was a childhood favorite in this house, along with Finn Family Moomintroll and the other Moominbooks.

All right, all right! The truth is that I am lazy. Moreso than you can possibly imagine. I have been sitting around watching movies (movies that I have already seen, no less!) when I am not at work.

At least it was pretty today. We had a huge storm in the morning, or maybe two? I don’t remember because I was very asleep. The thunder was so loud though that I, Mouse Courtois, at the oh-so-sophisticated (hah!) age of nineteen years, reached for my ancient stuffed mouse and clung to her for the duration. Like the world was ending. You see, in my sleep I forgot that the trees in the Haisley woods are not nearly close enough to fall on our house, and I was terrified that one was going to come crashing through my ceiling. I did NOT want to be messily squished. Anyway, it made everything really green and the birds were squawking (with something other than fear, like they were doing this morning). I like grey days.

Trees have fallen on this house before…

Two more storms have rolled though since then, although for a space of time we did have some sun.

I owe you a Bonnaroo post. I have decided to go day by day, but before I give you Thursday here is the current state of my knitting:


The Peacock Feathers Shawl. It is a little farther along now, as I took it to Ambrosia today with my book. (Grace, I missed you. It was sad, although I think Germany and the yarn you’re hoarding there kind of make up for it. Yeah, don’t even try to tell me that you’re not. Just come home with the yarn so I can try to steal it, and all will be well.)

Uh…I started a new project. It’s stash yarn, so don’t judge! See, the Yarn Harlot is coming in July, and Amanda and I are knitting her snowdrop shawl for when she comes. (The pattern can be downloaded from her sidebar). We are using the same yarn, Alpaca with a Twist laceweight. Hers is pink, and mine is grey. The color on the screen is not true, it is slightly darker. I meant to get a picture of them together but I forgot. We started last night…why did no one tell me it was so fun to knit the same thing at the same time?

The second red socks just need a toe. I’ll explain why they are not done in the Friday Bonnaroo post.

Before I forget, a random dream flashback just came back to me. At some point in the night, I dreamed that the police could pull you over for having messy hair while driving, with the reasoning that it could be obscuring your vision. I don’t remember if I myself got pulled over, or if I saw someone else getting pulled over. But wouldn’t that be strange if they could do that?

We arrived in Manchester at 9:30 Michigan time. I am not going to go into detail about all the time we spent being turned around, but basically it was difficult to figure out where on earth we were supposed to go. For future reference, saying “I’m sorry” is not enough if you go right around and repeat the same thing you just apologized for. It is especially not enough after the third time you try it.

It was 2:00 Michigan time when we actually parked in the field. Yes, that is 4.5 hours after our arrival. My entrance was spectacular. I found what was probably the only thistle in that entire area within minutes, managed to scrape up my ankle, and bled all over my right birkenstock.

We set up camp, and lazed about in a manner that suggested a desperate need for a nap. Around six, we dredged ourselves up, and went off to investigate.


Daddy on the main path, with his Camelbak.

We scoped out the area, and were immediately sucked into the first music tent we heard, like moths to the light.

I-Nine was the first band we saw. It was nothing special, but not bad either. Too wannabe 60s rock for me, though. After a few songs I was done, so we moved to the next thing. We found this:


The mushroom fountain. Yes, this was mainly a hippie festival. This was an important part of the Centeroo area. One thing that would turn out well throughout the weekend was that they were really good about providing water. It was very easy to dehydrate, and people would keep cool by standing under the fountain water.
Next we found the tent where Matt Costa was playing. And also, here is where we got smart and started taking pictures:


I was not familiar with his music previously, but I really enjoyed his performance. Music is always different live, though. I fully intend to look up some of his recordings to confirm my first impression. It can be difficult to tell how much you really like something when you have only heard a small bit of it live, but then again my musical instinct rarely fails me. When I get around to doing that I’ll let you know what I think.

Now, here is the strangest part of our day, or perhaps of the entire festival. We moved on to see the band Dios, who I was not too fond of.

They were simply too loud, and their music was…well…not that musical. (Perhaps they are better recorded? I shall attempt to do them justice by finding a recording and listening before I make a true decision.)

But the strange part! See the metal scaffolding in the foreground, where the lights are hanging? It is in the background too. Well, suddenly a stark naked man starts climbing up the left post of the scaffolding. The entire audience (and I suspect the band, although to be honest I was a little distracted at the time) had shifted their attention to the man. We were all captivated, and at the same time trying not to look. I really don’t think that anyone wanted to see that.

He climbed all the way up to the top. Then he sort of monkeybar-ed out about a foot along the horizontal bit, and hung there.

Let me restate this, just so I can be sure that you get it. There was a naked man swinging haphazardly from the light scaffolding (which was probably rather hot) about twenty feet above the stage. Bizarre?? Uh…yes!

I looked down for about two seconds to see something in my knitting, and when I looked back up he was gone. I think that I am glad that I was not looking when he fell!! Of course it did not really matter as we could not see his landing place, but people falling through the air? Not my sort of thing. We waited around for another few songs, mostly to see what would happen, but nothing came of it. I can’t help thinking that he must have broken something though. It would be sheer luck if he fell on empty stage rather than equiptment, but what if he had fallen on another person? And equiptment or no, that was not a soft fall.

It was pretty late by this point, so we decided to go back to the tent. On our way back through the Centeroo area, I was hoplessly seduced by the sound of gentle singing and a violin. (Have I ever mentioned how much I love violins?) It was a band called Devotchka. We only listened for a few songs, as it had been a long day. This is another band that I need to look up, as I do not have a clear idea of what they are about. It sounded good to my tired ears though.

We fell into our sleeping bags and crashed, while everyone around us drank too much etc…, ensuring that they would miss some of the most important music of Friday. At least they were having fun though. =D

This ends Thursday’s post. Eek! Hopefully I’ll get to Friday tomorrow, but don’t count on it. It depends on how I feel. Right now though, it is quite past my bedtime.  Hopefully I can tear myself away from the shawls in the next half hour and actually sleep…

I am so not posting today.

Sunday, June 18th, 2006

No, seriously. I am going to bed in just a minute. I don’t know if it’s 10:15 or 11:15, but I honestly don’t care in the first place. Just ask the muscles in my hip joints how they feel about sitting down.

Actually, don’t do that or your life might be in danger. Every time I sit down wrong my legs fall completely and painfully asleep, and my hip joints seize up from all the standing.

Well, standing and dancing that is. I’ll post a thorough rundown of Bonnaroo sometime in the next week, but for now:


This is what I look like* after three days in the sneaky, clinging, unmanageable Tennesee dirt in 90 degree weather. Six (or so) layers of sunscreen, ten million layers of sweat, innumerable plasterings of clay-filled dirt, dust, plant matter, smoke, and filthy water.


Okay, I should probably admit that I look like that normally.

(“That” being equal to ridiculous, I know. And I should probably make a disclaimer that the above statement is in no way meant to be connected to my bathing habits. In all truthfullness, I was by far one of the cleanest people there.)

*I am now clean. Blissfully, painfully clean. I have no idea how long it took, but my fingernails are the proper color (!), my hair feels like hair and not straw (!), and layers of greasy dirt no longer can be scraped off the surface off of my skin (!).

Cave City, Kentucky

Wednesday, June 14th, 2006

Okay, so I did not think that I would be able to post again so soon. And as my cousin* Pooh was quick to notice, I posted after midnight last night in my exclamation that the day…got away. In the process of contemplating what on earth could possibly be interesting enough to post, I irreversibly distracted myself with a dress alteration. When I came to my senses, I was too exhausted by the prospect of something called “contrary to popular belief time does actually exist before 8 AM and you have to get up, surprise!” to write a coherent post.

In retrospect, nothing I did yesterday was terribly interesting. Other than finishing a sock, that is. I neglected to take pictures. Honestly though, how many pictures of a partially completed red sock can I really show before you decide I belong in an institution? You’ll get a finished project picture when I am home with a finished second sock and Emily. (She remained in Ann Arbor to guard the core yarn stash. Long car rides are not her thing.)

I guess I did do one interesting thing yesterday, called going back to work. As most of you know, I work at Flying Sheep Yarns, in Ann Arbor. It is a lot of fun. I get to spend hours surrounded by wool. I knew something drastic was missing in Kalamazoo!

I may have..uh..bought some sock yarn. (I don’t want to hear any comments, judgmental or otherwise, you hear? Well, I guess that if you are going to tell me that you approve it would be alright. However I *still* don’t collect rocks for all you snobby writers out there. Not that there is anything wrong with rock collecting, and personally I fully approve of it…) And a “by the way” for knitters, has anyone else noticed that Opal has seemingly gotten much squooshier? Maybe they are feeding it more lanolin, and it has gotten fat. I like it better fat, as it is softer and much more enjoyable in my socks.

Okay, so I guess I can’t avoid it any longer. Pooh was also quick to notice that I have been suspiciously silent on the purple silk shirt project. I can’t slip anything by, can I? You can all just stop being so perceptive and logical. I am not sneaky like The Sneak!

Anyway, the reason I haven’t mentioned it in a while is that I have not worked on it in a while. This is because I do not like the bamboo needles with the silk. As soon as I get my next paycheck, I intend to buy a 2.75 mm. metal circular needle so that I can resume progress.

Slow progress. Not only are the needles wrong, but I do not like the rate of decreasing at the bottom of the piece. I am going to start again with the intention of redistributing them, adding cables, and avoiding the gauge change that would inevitably occur in my fabric when I switched needles.

Tomorrow we get up early again, drive down to Manchester, and hope that we don’t have to wait six hours to get into the grounds. And tomorrow night the music starts! Go to the Bonnaroo webpage and look at the lineup of artists. =D

One complaint for this trip: where are all the sheep farms? Stop looking at me like that! Okay fine, I’m going to bed. All I have to say is you all need to learn to appreciate sheep for their true value.  Pictures next time!

*Pooh is actually my first cousin once removed, however “cousin” is much easier.


Wednesday, June 14th, 2006

Oops, today got away from me.

Daddy and I are leaving for Bonnaroo early tomorrow morning. Three days of music and camping and nonsense. I have no idea yet whether or not I’ll have internet access while I am there, but I do intend to take pictures and document all the amazing things we see.

Or rather, all the amazing things we hear.

I’ll be back Monday night, so expect a post then or soon after. Au revoir!

Oh. My. Hol(e)y. YARN.

Monday, June 12th, 2006

I would say alpaca, but right now that does not matter. What matters is THIS:


No. That is not enough. Just look at this detail shot:


It is just so beautiful, in detail *and* as a whole. I knew that I loved this lace pattern, but not until I blocked the scarf did I quite understand the full extent of my infatuation. It is still there drying, but…*flustered smattering of letters*fadklsjklsdajfksdljf…I just want to unpin it now and dance around. I have to give it away though. D= However, Jess is definitely deserving. She is one of the many lovely people who graduated college two days ago. I’ll miss her as well as The Sneak. (The Sneak gets her graduation presents later, because of a difficulty in obtaining some yarn.)

If you want to know, I actually bought the extra fine green merino laceweight to make a giant square shawl for myself. Using that lace pattern. It is not going to be a fast or easy project, as the pattern repeat is fairly long and difficult to memorize. It is not hard as long as you have the opportunity to look at your pattern often, but at school I do not have that luxury.

I also intend to use fairly small needles. No, I swear that I am not crazy. I am not planning to make this just for fun. Every once in a while you just need to make something long-term, crazy, intricate, and ridiculously, painfully beautiful. (Yes. I have a yarn infatuation. Leave me alone. A Certain Writer has already made fun of me extensively within the last 48 hours, and did not even pause to reconsider when I borrowed a line from the Yarn Harlot: Some people collect rocks.) (Okay, so actually, I collected rocks as a child…oh, leave me alone.)

Though the strange thing is, if something really really good came up, I would probably give it away in an instant. I mean something *really* good. While I work on a project, I am so protective. And possessive. I have to shield it as my own, because somehow it is part of my body or my mind. It is like constructing something incomplete. Not broken, just unfinished. When it is finished though, I am a lot more detached. It’s not that I love it any less, just that it is finished, and no longer needs my assistance to make it through. At this point, I can send it out into the world. It is still mine, but someone else can love it too.
(Now that I think about it, I guess that is to some extent a less extreme version of what parents go through. Sorry parents! I love you! I hope I am at least close to being finished to your satisfaction. Although, I am the first to admit that I am definitely far from finished.)
Anyway, the unexpected results are a main part of why I love knitting. It is always surprising.

It also keeps me from spacing out. Or killing people.

I guess that it’s just a day for pretty things though. Look at this skirt:


It is from Orchid Lane, and it makes me feel so eggshell! Not *like* an eggshell, you did not mistake me. I in turn did not mistake my typing. It makes me feel like the word eggshell, which is another favorite. “Egg” and “shell” are only okay on their own, but put them together and they are incredible. Say it! Out loud! Like you mean it.

Doesn’t it feel good?

Okay, full disclosure:


I bought a dress too. Also from Orchid Lane. I love the colors of both the skirt and the dress. They were just so Mouse, and I could not leave them. I had dreams about them last night. They placed a hook in my mind and reeled me back into the store this morning. Now I have summer clothes, and no desire to obtain more.

No one said anything about knitted garments though, or anything I do with my sewing machine…