FemiKnitMafia

For some odd reason, I haven’t been spinning for the last few months. But today, after going to see Nemo on Ice with Little Man, he requested that we make a robot costume. Random? Yeah. Apparently his dress-up box is not complete without a robot costume. Who knew? He drew a picture of what the robot should look like, and insisted that we make it out of fabric, as opposed to paper. Even Little Man understands that fabric will wear better. So, one old pillow case with head and arm holes, some fabric scraps and some fusible interfacing later, the robot costume was complete (including my colander as a hat - his idea). Then, he insisted that we make a ghost costume. This was easier: old sheet + strategic holes = happy boy. Then we made brownies (No-Pudge which are surprisingly tasty) and he suggested that we smash some almonds and sprinkle them on top. I have no illusion that this was purely cooking creativity on his part. He just really loves this gadget and begs to chop something every time we cook. After the mid-afternoon brownie attack, I figured we should eat something healthy for dinner, so I set off to make baked sweet potato fries and turkey burgers. It’s a tricky way to get a vegetable into a 4-year-old. In fact, I’m thinking about cutting parsnips and broccoli and squash into french fry shapes. Though I shouldn’t complain because he tried edamame last night and liked it!

Anywho … while I was busy cooking, Little Man went over to Cheryl’s spinning wheel and started treadling. He does this with some regularity, but the drive band has been too loose to get the flyer going, and he gets upset about this. Apparently tonight was the night that a loose drive band was no longer acceptable to the wee one. He insisted that I fix it. I’m not kidding. He kept saying:

“Mom. You need to fix this. I want to make yarn. If you don’t fix this, I can’t make yarn.”

Who can argue with logic like that? So I fixed it. And we played with the wheel, and then the yarn winder, and then the lazy kate, and then the other wheel (because he wanted to see the brown alpaca fiber (not kidding!)), and then … before we knew it, the living room looked like this:

Which is good, because Kellee proposed the most incredible trade — her beautiful Traveler + stool in exchange for my sweaty labor expertise in home renovations. I’m not sure about the expertise bit, but thanks to Ms. 1890, I can scrape and spackle ceilings like a pro. I guess she needs some ceilings done. So we have a deal, and I couldn’t be happier.

This means that Cheryl’s Traveler is going to the next victim home and Julia’s Joy is going to the next victim home. With departures pending, Little Man’s spurt of creativity was perfectly timed, because I have several full bobbins of practice singles hanging around. So I spent the evening plying, and it was good.

Not so balanced 2 ply, before its bath

My first attempt at Navajo Plying, thanks to this video, also crazy unbalanced and pre-bath

After bathing and hanging that yarn, I started throwing lustful glances at Rabbitch’s Visions of Revenge. Perhaps I’ll just pre-draft a little of it.

It’s good to be back at the wheel.

Motivation comes from the most unexpected places. Thanks, Little Man.

*extra points if you know where the title comes from*

In looking through my ‘07 resolutions, I didn’t do too poorly. Especially when you consider the two huge life changes that were unexpected and largely out of my control: the divorce and being recruited into a graduate program. Still, as I look at the list, I feel a twinge of guilt for not achieving everything I set out to do. It’s silly, I know. But I’m a striver like that.

However, this year I pledge to be a realist. Life is short. Relationships are unpredictable. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. Therefore, I intend to focus more on the present, less on the future, and way less on what other people are doing/accomplishing. Accordingly, my goals are:

Human
… pay attention and go with the flow
… continue to be mindful of my body, fitness and health
… continue to love my little boy with all of my heart, and make all decisions with his needs in mind
… regularly tell friends and family how much I appreciate them

Employee & Student
… focus. focus. focus. produce. produce. produce.
… imagine. envision. create.

Home-owner
… buy a mattress & box spring
… buy a couch
… make wise financial decisions

Creator
… look to the stash (both fabric and fiber) before buying anything new
… finish some WIPs
… have fun

In looking back, I realize that I finished more crafty projects in 2007 than I thought.

It’s funny how you can forget about things that are finished and gifted away, temporary, perpetually in progress, or outgrown. If you ignore all of those items, that leaves 2 pairs of socks, one washrag, a pair of mittens, a hat, and my first skein of handspun. No wonder I’m forgetting my accomplishments!
I fudged the definition a little to allow the Dale to make the cut. After all, I finished the whole body. That’s a finished object, right?

Note to self: try to take more photos of completely finished objects before using/gifting them.

In a moment of crazy youthful impulsiveness, and thanks to blogless Deanna’s tip, I convinced Cheryl to drive across the state to Northampton tonight to see an incredible New Year’s Eve show at the Calvin: Melissa Ferrick, Erin McKeown and Alix Olson, together! There’s also talk of additional surprise guests, and I bet Pamela Means will be one of them. I am so f-ing excited I can barely contain myself!!! Happy Dance. Happy. Happy. Happy. Dance. After the show, we’ll drive east in the wee hours, crash hard, and then go to Danielle’s for the afternoon. What a way to welcome the New Year! Hoooooray!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

It was my first Rhinebeck. And with all that’s going on, I was bouncing around in anticipation. Danielle and I rode together and shared a hotel room, and met up with MafiaMom, who shared a bed with me.

[sidenote: alas, there was no chance of a torrid Rhinebeck love affair for the Mafia, what with my work-wife in the next bed and my Mom snoring away at my side. not that I was hoping for a torrid love affair or anything. nope. not me. ahem. argh. and a little grrrr. and another apology to everyone i flirted with over the weekend. it can't be helped. terribly sorry. I will not be better behaved next time. i lie promise.]

Anyway … back to the beginning … Danielle and I dashed out of the office a wee bit early on Friday evening, so we could compensate for Danielle’s slow ass driving - sit in traffic with 1000 of our closest friends get a head start. I loaded all my gear, and got in the passenger seat. On the floor was an enormous bag with a fat envelope that said, “open the bag first, then this.” I opened the bag. I saw miles of knit squares. I read the letter, and the spreadsheet(!) of names and blog addresses. And I said:
Holy Shit.
Oh my God.
Are you Kidding?
Are you Serious?
How the Hell?
Oh my God.
This is Incredible.
Did you really?
What?
How?

I was in total and absolute shock. The best kind of shock. The kind of shock that says I’m being held up and surrounded and loved and snuggled by this not-so-imaginary crowd of generous friends, many of whom I’ve never met in real life. How can this be? How can I be so lucky? Really? What have I done to deserve this unbelievable expression of support:

-a mere 2/3 of the Maf-ghan seen here, being held by my favorite LYS maven-

I wanted to roll around in those miles of wooly squares. I wanted to wrap the blanket around and around and around me, like a shield. An amulet. A protective coating. A skin. Giving myself a layer of lanolin that would keep the rain drops from reaching me. And then sit in front of a fire, knees drawn to my chest. Let the heat penetrate the knit stitches and get trapped in there. And watch the flames dance in the fire. And see the flames morph into lovers-to-be and adventures-to-be and learning-to-be and Little-Man-growing-older and my-whole-life stretched out in front of me. Knowing that each of those stitches, trapping heat against my body, represents the kindness of people in far distant homes.

Then Danielle started telling me the stories. And I read the cards and the tags. And then I came upon Danielle’s square, which looked so familiar. I saw the yarn at her house, she explains. It was the first yarn she spun on her new Schacht! Oh my god, the first yarn from the wheel? That’s seriously important yarn! With that realization, I lost it. The floodgates opened and I cried (and I.do.not.cry.I.just.don’t.). Deep heaving sobs. All over Danielle’s handspun square. All over the Maf-ghan-in-progress. All over every single one of the 80(!) squares sitting in my lap. [sorry guys]

While driving, she hugged me (thank you Cambridge traffic). After getting it together, ahem, I spent the next hour fondling each and every square, reading every single card and tag and present, and listening to stories about how I almost discovered the project on countless occasions, and how many people were involved, and about various seaming parties and conversations and well-wishes. And I cried a little more. That’s how the rest of the trip to Rhinebeck went — I fondled, I cried. I fondled, I cried a bit. I fondled, I teared up. And so on. Until we stopped for dinner and I got it together. Then the clouds broke open and the sky cried on my behalf, while I drove white-knuckled through torrential downpours toward the Hudson River Valley.

At Rhinebeck, I hugged a LOT of people. And thanked them. I occasionally checked the spreadsheet (that Danielle … she is seriously organized) to see if so-and-so participated, to be sure that I wasn’t hugging and slobbering all over someone who had no idea what I was talking about. For someone who.does.not.cry, I told a LOT of people about the crying. I bought fiber, two of Maryse’s cards (including the one featuring her Maf-ghan square), and a Golding spindle. I spun. I knit. I met and hung out with a whole cast of incredible people. I misbehaved. I drank at every opportunity (thank you yarn-company-sponsored open bar at the Ravelry party). I spent some hardcore Q.T. with some of my favorite people on earth, including MafiaMom, who wore the poncho I finally finished. I taught MafiaMom to spin on Julia’s wheel. Julia’s wheel was clearly built to teach; it’s the Jonathan Kozol of wheels.

She took to it, but the fiber complained a little — Mafia on the right. MafiaMom on the left. Telephone cord: like mother, like daughter, even the same fiber.

I got an early birthday present from MafiaMom, who found his beautiful antique yarn winder at an estate sale

I brought some beautiful Cider Moon sock yarn from the stash, promptly tangled it, was thankfully rescued by the ever-generous Team Cheryl and Terry …

only to wind it into a center-pull ball so tightly that no amount of tugging would release the center. Even Sara couldn’t pull the center out with a crochet hook. Perhaps that’s a sign that I need to relax?

I watched Cate cut her Autumn Rose.

Which is when I met the awesome crazy Canadians that I tailed for the rest of the weekend.

And, since it is now 1:59am, the Sox have won the World Series again (yeah Sox!) and Xifey has finally returned from her nightly jaunt to the next door neighbor’s house, I need to sleep a bit before I’m expected to act like a professional human being in a few hours.

There will be more blogging about Rhinebeck, because I still need to do the link-fest. As well as more blogging about the Maf-ghan, including links and pictures and the stories behind each and every square. And there are a couple of other AMAZING bloggy prezzies to post about. But right now, I’m going into radio silence as I:

1) wait to hear about the used car that I’m trying to get at auction (i.e. half price), and

2) wait hear if my offer was accepted on a very cute condo. gotta get outta this place, if it’s the last thing I ever do**.

Please send some of that amazing loving energy to the condo deal. Remember how we got Ms. 1890 together? Let’s do it again. If the Maf-ghan is any indication, then clearly my peeps are capable of incredible acts.

*extra points to the person who can identify the post title without googling it. big points to the person who can say the next line. kisses to the person who knows this one**.

*** ETA: Danielle would like me to add … if anyone is still interested in knitting a Maf-Square, there are a couple open spots. Email her at ASwimInKnits AT yahoo DOT com.

*** ETA #2: Danielle says that the remaining spots are now taken. Thank you to everyone!!

I packed too much yarn and not enough clothing last night.

I tossed the antique wheel in the car* this morning. It’s going to visit Dave for a little TLC. On the way to daycare, Little Man decided to play with the wheel. Testing his knowledge, I said:

Mafia: Little Man, can you point to the flyer?
Little Man: Here it is.

Mafia: Ummmm. [gulp] Can you put it back now?
Little Man: Yeah, sure Mom.
[and he did. properly!]

Danielle and I are hitting the road at 4pm. We’re meeting up with my Mom, who’s newly enthralled with needle felting. If you see this bag, you’ve found me.

Watch out Rhinebeck! Here we come!  And for all those who promised to buy me an alcoholic bevvie this weekend, consider it a date.  See you in a few hours!

* Please give Danielle some extra props because she and her wonderful husband insisted (and I really mean insisted) that I borrow his car so I can get home from grad school at 10pm instead of 12-midnight. Apparently they think I “have a few things going on” and could benefit from getting some sleep. It’s an incredibly generous gesture and I’m eternally grateful. Meanwhile, my car shopping is bolstered by some excellent suggestions from Cheryl, the queen of the late-model luxury car. In fact, go see Cheryl’s Imogen. It’s stunning!

1. Bats

Not rabid. Which makes feel guilty for having them killed tested. Before my town would finally agree to have them tested for rabies, I had to trap them. This is no small task, but I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar!

Clearly I’m a tough chica, because the local Health Dept. guys were still jumpy when I handed the bats to them in sealed tupperware containers. Pansies.

The Bat Exclusion company says we have a colony in the attic, and they’d be delighted to help me part with several hundred dollars to evict the colony. Shit!

2. Friends

Seriously, Fiber Revival was the best day ever. Go see Maryse, Cheryl, and Adrian’s beautiful photos. I taught a woman to knit, and while I was teaching her to cast on, she told me that she wanted to learn because her 3 year old son has muscular dystrophy, a degenerative disease with a terrible prognosis, and she needs a hobby to keep her mind off his health problems. Whoah. All hail the power of wool.

3. Grad School

I got a decent score on the GMAT. I got in, as of today. They offered me a merit scholarship, and I negotiated for a shitload more. Classes start on Saturday. Yes, as in 4 days from today.

4. Wheel

I bow to the beauty of Craigslist. Antique wheel - $50. She’s wicked cranky but functional, and she has a story to tell (like me!).

I returned from the seller’s house with a fresh bantam egg, german shorthaired pointer paw prints on my capris, slate-colored arabian horse drool on my shoulder, and baby chick pee on my left hand. Her home is idyllic! More details later.

*so sorry that i’ve been so terrible about emailing lately.

In three hours, Little Man and I* will board a train** headed for Philly to see the BFF&exGF#2; attend a BBQ at the suburban home of another dear friend from college; go to Sesame Place (the original reason for the trip); check out the Please Touch Museum; lounge on the beach; scour the sale baskets for el cheapo yarn at Loop while simultaneously preventing Little Man from unwinding anything expensive; stroll through the Magic Garden & let Little Man touch everything; gorge on crepes; introduce Little Man to the glory of hand-drawn noodles; pick up a new rainbow sticker for our not-even-a-little-gay car at Giovanni’s Room [why the bleep doesn't Boston have a gay bookstore?]; and search for fabric for Little Man’s quilt on Fabric Row.

We’ll be back in Boston on Sunday afternoon. Have a great weekend everyone!

* Wifey will be sitting on a beach with her head stuck in a book for 5 days. She might shake the sand out of her panties long enough to take a yoga class or go to the gym. In any case, this is a much-needed break for this grad-school-attending, full-time-urban-school-teaching, tolerating-my-shit mama. Pray for sunshine.

** Yes, I’m taking a 4-year-old on a 6-hour train ride (12 hours roundtrip). Fear for me. Thankfully he should sleep most of the way down; it’s the return trip that I worry about. But I have a heap of stuff to keep him entertained. Still — fear for me. Or him? Fingers tightly crossed.

——

ETA: Ooops, I almost forgot to share the toes of my Elinor’s Poseidon socks for my SockPal. With two train rides, hopefully there will be more to show come Sunday night.

And with 5 days of Little Man love, I’m sure I can negotiate some spinning time on Sunday, so I can add to this bobbin.

Later y’all!

ETA: As if Scooter shock isn’t enough today, check out this WTF moment, courtesy of my MIT pal Katie. Really? Lesbian gangs? If only … O’Reilly’s hairy ass woulda been snuffed long ago.

For real. I’m out.

With such an accomplishment, the choice for Favorite Things Monday was an easy one. Very easy.

Yesterday, while Little Man took a rare afternoon nap (3 hours!) and Wifey took the dog for a ride to Target, I spun a bit more of the mystery practice fiber (that Cheryl gave me) onto a new bobbin so I could try a 2-ply on the wheel without dealing with andean plying preparation. With two thick-n-thin singles on separate bobbins, a lazy kate, and some alone time, I started. I have no idea if I did it properly, but I’m ridiculously proud of it nonetheless. It’s about 58 yards of worsted (heavy worsted weight?)*.

When Wifey returned, we started a new family tradition: spending Sunday evenings with a picnic dinner at the beach.

*Yes, Beth, I brought it with me so you can fondle it on the train.

Although I suspected it in the first repeat of the lace pattern, it was confirmed last night. This yarn and the Elfine pattern were not meant to be. The lace muddied the colors and made the fabric look a bit like baby shit. The first clue was my “mmeeeehhhhh” at the colors in the lacework

and the joy I felt everytime I flipped over to the sole stitches.

So I ripped it back to the toe this morning and I’ll be making a simple stockinette fabric to allow to colors to pirouette at center stage. I love the Elfine pattern, so this is going back on my to-do list, only in a semi-solid colorway.

Have I mentioned my recent obsession with Lucy / Mind’s Eye Yarns? It all started with a trip a few weeks ago. Then I got sucked into the spinning vortex and made haste to visit Lucy for a lesson (last Friday). The lesson was awesome. She’s a great teacher. I’ll be going back for more. But with her big sale this week, the free drop spindle give-away, and the drawing for a gorgeous spinning wheel, another visit this week was a high priority. Also, after reading Amy-Knitty’s piece on spinning silk hankies, I was jonesin’ to try it. Then Haddy admitted that she’d never been to Mind’s Eye, so Danielle, Haddy and I made the pilgrimage during lunch yesterday.

I grabbed a silk cap, traded my wine colored sock yarn for a blue (Wifey’s request) and bought an additional skein of blue for this pending Wifey shawl/scarf project.

I was so jazzed with the silk, I spun an entire layer on the way home. Yes, on the train.* Thank god/Lucy for that free spindle!

Brian (my train conductor) was highly amused. Or perhaps he thought I was crazy? In any case, he took one look and said, “what are you doing now?? oh …. you’re spindling, er … spinning.” I was pretty impressed that he knows what a spindle is. Clearly there’s a fiber person in his past. One day I’ll get that story.

*I tried to take a picture on the train, but the damned camera battery died. grr argh

P.S. For those who are waiting for interview questions, I didn’t forget.  I’m being lazy, but I’ll get motivated soon, I promise.  There’s some pressure to create wacky questions, and I hate pressure.  Perhaps now that I’ve admitted to it, I’ll get off my ass.  ??

Yea, I’m sayin’ it — Beth totally digs me. She bought me a present to celebrate the beginning of my spinning obsession career, saying that every new spinner needs to be indoctrinated encouraged. Isn’t it beautiful? At some point I’ll be skilled enough to use this. For now, I will pet my beautiful braid of perfectly Mafia colors. Speaking of — she’s so skilled at nailing my color scheme, when she gave it to me, I was wearing a shirt that watched the roving perfectly.

As an added benefit, I finished my Anastasia socks yesterday, and I love them. The Sophie’s Toes Froggy is stunning. The design was easy enough to memorize quickly, but created excellent visual interest with that spiral column of eyelets. Love.

Oh geez. Where did the photo of both feet go? Give me couple hours…

Perhaps I’ve mentioned that I’m a tad destructive. I LOVE demolition. Just ask any of the 500 new homeowners that I regularly beg for a spot on the DIY demo team. Perhaps my enthusiasm is scaring them, ‘cuz I’m never actually invited.

This week. This week of vacation. Of lists and goals and priorities. Yeah, right.

On Day 1, I ditch the list and start tearing up the back yard. Wifey came home from work and said “oh.my.god.what have you done?” After hiding in the house for about 20 minutes, I crawled out, ready to face the storm — and blamed it on our elderly neighbor. “Well he said that our vegetable garden would get more morning sun if we thinned the back a little…” Who could resist such temptation? I couldn’t.

This is one of 3 piles

This is one of 7 trips to the recycling center. It’s a Passat wagon, and I can fit 5 of those tall brown paper yard waste bags in there. You do the math.

Mind you, while I’m paying penance hauling brush, Wifey’s happily chopping and tying. From my piles, she fashions a woven fence and a garden gate.

Thank god she’s around. She creates beauty from my destruction.

Knitting = a couple rows here and a couple rows there.

Spinning? Only if you call this spinning:

Note to self: you don’t know how to spin, so you’re not ready to watch a movie and spin at the same time, not matter how stupid the movie. Signed, The Mafia.