Sunday, February 22, 2009



Do you remember when we had that mumps outbreak a few years back in Iowa?

Yeah. So those socks that just need a bit of finishing? I just realized I didn't finish them because they're too tight. All over. I think I might be able to handle it at the body of the sock, but not at the top of the cuff, so I'm pondering frogging the cuff and re-knitting that. But then...I'd have to re-knit that. I'm so lazy.


Monday, February 16, 2009



No, I'm not talking about the dance. I'm very much in limbo with my knitting. I recently gifted a baby surprise, which will be blogged soon, the project with the Bollywood Streets yarn is blocking at this very moment, and I just have the ears and face to finish on another toy. I've finished up a hat or 2 I need to photograph and put up here for you, too. And a lovely cowl.

And then there are a whole other hoard of projects I've got attacking me from all sides...

-Embroidery on Pagliaci
-Forecast, which needs to have the ribbing frogged and increased into more ribbing (I don't want it too tight at my abdomen)
-Legwarmers -->possibly Mosey, but I've been lusting after Kusi's Stitch Sampler Legwarmers
-Oh, Salina, you're just lingering. I don't even know where I'm at in that sweater. Increases or decreases somewhere.
-Lace Cardigan! How long ago did I start that. Undergrad. That's sad. It just needs another front and sleeves.
-There's one pair of socks that just needs a tiny bit of reworking at the top and a cast-off and it'd be done. Oh my gosh. Why haven't I finished these?
-Rug-sewing together
-Spring Shibori -finish the shibori! Already knitted, need to felt with stones
-Top-down delight --lovely yarn, why I am not knitting on this I do not remember
-Chunky scarf-more recent, lovely pattern, takes too much time to follow the chart, which I do not have
-Sandwich gloves II for my sister-was going to give to her for her birthday, Feb 1, oh my. Come on Amy. Get with the program.

What I really need to finished? The sandwich gloves. And then I want to try and knit an anatomical heart for the American Heart walk. Shhhh, ignore the giant list of WIPs I just made. But the sandwich gloves are getting me down. I'm just not into them anymore, they are depressing me with their constant gloveness. Sometimes I just can't shake the feeling that the color looks like unicorn vomit.

Okay, I don't fully know what that means, but I think you can read betewen the lines. I'm bored with them and want to move on. We all know that I have the knitter's equivalent of ADHD. I just feel like I want to start some new projects. I don't even know what, or if I have enough needles that are, um, not otherwise occupied.

Somebody talk me down.


Monday, February 9, 2009

Cobra Dance


Do you remember the wool from the other day? Go look at it. You might even want to embiggify it. That's 4 ounces of gorgeous Finn that I dyed, inspired by the colors from a Bollywood movie street dance scene which had a lot of earthy yet bold and bright colors. The film was Bride and Prejudice, and the trailor is actually a fairly good representation of the film, if you're interested. The scene was Marriage Into Town, which is a pretty hilarious song. I'm pretty sure I messed up and should have done this for you before your wedding. Sorry.

Delightfully, I spun this up the week before school started into singles.

Somehow, amazingly, I managed to spin this onto the two bobbins just perfectly so that when I double-plied it they came out even. I had Kris point out where the yarn started and the leader stopped for you.

Isn't that incredible? I'm still stupified.

Washed, beat-up, dried, and the yarn looked a million times better. At first I was a tad unsure if I liked how the colors were meshing together, but now I truly liked them.

The finished skein.

A fast shot, as it was what we refer to as a "wintery mix" or what I call, bad weather, during my photoshoot.

This has not stayed as mere yarn for long. For now, however, I'll leave you with the Cobra Dance. From another movie.


Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Poetry on the Rise

At least with me, until I stop being lazy, poetry is on the rise.

Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale

by Dan Albergotti

Measure the walls. Count the ribs. Notch the long days.
Look up for blue sky through the spout. Make small fires
with the broken hulls of fishing boats. Practice smoke signals.
Call old friends, and listen for echoes of distant voices.
Organize your calendar. Dream of the beach. Look each way
for the dim glow of light. Work on your reports. Review
each of your life's ten million choices. Endure moments
of self-loathing. Find the evidence of those before you.
Destroy it. Try to be very quiet, and listen for the sound
of gears and moving water. Listen for the sound of your heart.
Be thankful that you are here, swallowed with all hope,
where you can rest and wait. Be nostalgic. Think of all
the things you did and could have done. Remember
treading water in the center of the still night sea, your toes
pointing again and again down, down into the black depths.

Yarny things to come,


Monday, February 2, 2009

St. Brigid's Day


It's St. Brigid's Day, which means that it's also Silent Poetry Reading Day. Today I've selected one from Mary Oliver.


This morning
two mockingbirds
in the green field
were spinning and tossing

the white ribbons
of their songs
into the air.
I had nothing

better to do
than listen.
I mean this

In Greece,
a long time ago,
an old couple
opened their door

to two strangers
who were,
it soon appeared,
not men at all,

but gods.
It is my favorite story--
how the old couple
had almost nothing to give

but their willingness
to be attentive--
but for this alone
the gods loved them

and blessed them--
when they rose
out of their mortal bodies,
like a million particles of water

from a fountain,
the light
swept into all the corners
of the cottage,

and the old couple,
shaken with understanding,
bowed down--
but still they asked for nothing

but the difficult life
which they had already.
And the gods smiled, as they vanished,
clapping their great wings.

Wherever it was
I was supposed to be
this morning--
whatever it was I said

I would be doing--
I was standing
at the edge of the field--
I was hurrying

through my own soul,
opening its dark doors--
I was leaning out;
I was listening.