Knitting the Blues

YouTube Saturday

After yesterday's post, I went looking for some Rhody video. The music is hokey, but the flower is gorgeous!

And for those of you that are wondering what you should do with your rhododendrons (I know somebody who should watch this!), here is a pretty good video:

Two hundred fourteen to go. If not entertaining, at least educational.  It occurred to me today (too late as usual) that yesterday's post might have been cuter if called War of the Roses Rhodondendrons.  You know, like the movie.  I always have the clever little thoughts after the moment it would be useful. 

Rhododendron Wars

The rhododendrons are finally blooming in southern New Hampshire.  I love that shrub, it needs hardly any care at all, you find them on hiking trails all over the place, they love shade, and in the spring those big clusters of flowers make me smile.  Finally.  I mean finally because it hasn't always been so easy for the humble rhododendron in the yards Pete and I have tended. 

Pete is a little, shall we say, obsessive about the shrubs.  I can almost sense his hackles rise when he sees them over-growing even a little bit.  As early as he can he is out there with pruners taming them into neat and tidy shaped things that don't touch the house or each other.  For years he would prune back the rhododendrons along with the azaleas and hydranges, before they got the chance to bloom.  I'd argue that he should wait until after they bloomed, but the poor things would throw a few blossoms out and he would say I was wrong, just look at the flowers!, and by the next year he'd forget (ahem), wait for a day that I was out, and I would come home to a pruned garden, prebloom.  I also really love the look of rhodies growing as nature would have them, sort of wild and unkempt, but that goes against Pete's grain way too much.

Finally, a few years ago, he admitted defeat and has let my rhododendrons bloom before he prunes them back.  It still saddens me to see them all clipped and barbered, but at least I get my flowers before he gets his neat front yard.  We do have a section of our yard where we could plant a bunch of rhodies and they wouldn't be near the house so that maybe we could just let them grow all over the place like mother nature intended.  I'll work on him.  Heh, it would be easier if I was willing to do the digging and planting.  I'll have to give that a little thought. 

Two hundred fifteen to go. Rhododendron is a really hard word to type!   

What is This?

Long time readers here at Knitting the Blues may remember my mom, she of the yard sale and thrift shop treasure, and I use that term treasure loosely.  The woman stalks the Goodwill, picks through people's stuff that is out with the trash and cannot stand to leave something, a bargain, that someone (anyone) she knows might use.  As a result all of her family members are the recipients of all sorts of useful and not-so-useful things, a constant borage of stuff, unloaded on us for any number of reasons.  It came as part of a lot, it could be used in a new apartment, it might fit somebody (she really needs to see that Meg is only 100 pounds and a size 6 is TOO BIG!), the list of excuses reasons that things are gifted to us is long.  As often as not I am sure that it is something she cannot just throw away herself, being too much a child of poverty, but doesn't want either.  I'd love to tell you that I am a grateful daughter, but sometimes......  The stuff that piles up because the girls are not forceful enough to tell her they don't want something, or that she clearly will not take no for an answer is big.  I am not the best organizer of things, so I tend to not like to accumulate them, but she cannot understand that philosophy no matter how many different ways I put it to her, so the stuff keeps coming. 

Sometimes I get things that I have no idea what to do with, and this is one of them. My mom picked it up someplace and thought it was a tea infuser (which it may well be). I don't think it is as it doesn't really fit into some of my teapots, the long hinged handle has to have some purpose and I can't think of what that would be in tea brewing, and the holes, while small, are a little too big and would let finer teas slip through. I'll bet that one of you knows what it really is.

See, the lid or bottom comes off to fill it with something, no doubt. I just haven't a clue what it is.

Could somebody let me know what this is so that I know if I should keep it or not? Or take guesses and I'll research and see if anyone is correct. Of all the comments to this post, correct or not, I'll have a little drawing and send something off to somebody. Maybe that thing right there. Is there someone that can use it?

Two hundred sixteen to go. I tried so hard to keep my reflection out of these photos, but it was too difficult!  You should see how far I was standing back.  Good thing I was clothed!

Spinning Mission Statement

Massachusetts Sheep and Woolcraft Festival. I fell down and hard, which isn't really like me. I can't explain it, but it was like the world was running out of wool and I needed to stock up. It is pretty safe to say that I should be alright should that ever happen. So, I have decided that I need a Spinning Mission Statement. My mission statement will be a set of guidelines that I will definitely, more than likely, probably, will attempt to adhere to in the coming days and weeks. (I wouldn't want to commit in writing on the blog for the whole of the internets to see and use against me or anything.)

Spinning the Blues Spinning Mission Statement

My mission here at the Blues is to further my education and skill in spinning, to focus on a few spinning projects at a time and to use this focus and new found knowledge and proficiency to turn the mountain of fiber I have acquired into yarn. Practice and learning being the one goal, and stash reduction being the second, each relative one to the other in a symbiotic advancement of said goals.

To that end I have developed some guidelines:

1. I will spin a minimum of fifteen minutes a day on at least five days each week.
2. I will have only one spinning project on the wheel at a given time.
3. I will have only one spinning project on a spindle at any given time.
4. I will have only two spinning projects going at any given time.
5. I will resist the urge to succumb to the voices and begin pre-drafting a new batch of fiber before I am finished with the current "on the wheel" or "on the spindle project."
6. In the probable unlikely event that I trip up on number 5, I will document with notes and samples each project so I can come back to it and have evidence of my plan for that fiber.
7. I will turn at least five things from the fiber stash into yarn before purchasing another thing.
8. I will not shop with enablers like Cheryl, Marcy, Laurie, Kathy, Manice, Lynn (well, about Lynn.  She just buys the fiber right out from under me. This could be a good or a bad thing, either saving me or sending me to drown my sorrows by purchasing a fleece.  Which do you think it was?).
9. I will skip Fiber Frolic this year and spend the day spinning.

What do you think?  Can I do it?  Will this blog see some yarn being made at a frightening pace?  To keep it real I'll photo journal what I have going right now.

  On the wheel:

Sojourner Designs Coopworth/Border Leicester Corriedale lamb.

On the spindle:

Recycled photo of the Spirit Trail Fiber Club Alpaca/Merino/Silk blend. I'm on my third cop (and had a shitty day spinning it. Looks like novelty yarn!).

On my mind and all I can think about:

Spunky Eclectic Nova Scotia Blue-faced Leicester

Two hundred seventeen to go.  This is going to be harder than I thought.

Ten on Tuesday

This week:  Ten Favorite Time Wasters.  Sometimes ten seems like such a big number.

1. Cheese Roll Racing.
2. Ravelry.
3. Blog-surfing.
4. Making a Zwinky.
5. Put the Manhattan Transfer on and pretend I'm in a jazz vocal ensemble.  Okay, I usually do this one while I am cleaning the kitchen or something, thus not exactly wasting time, but multi-tasking. Except when I stop to use the wooden spoon as a microphone and when I bow to my audience.
6. Watching my pupils contract quickly when I open my eyes in the mirror.
7. Bubble Wrap.
8. Reading articles on how to waste time.  Truly, there are some brilliant ideas in there.  Read your junk mail!  And that first one?  Of the top five places to waste time on the web, I'm a regular on four of them.  Which only means one thing.  I need to get to know number three.
9. Drive Pete a little nuts by asking him a question to start conversation and then finishing it by singing random song lyrics.  Like this.  Me:  Oh, Pete, know what I forgot to tell you?  Pete:  What?  Me:  "If you ever plan to motor west, travel my way, take the highway that's the best, get your kicks on route 66."  Or Me:  Oh Pete, you know what?  Pete:  What?  Me:  "In the jungle, the quiet jungle, the lion sleeps tonight." Or "Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea."  Or "Chains, chains, chains, keep us together (running in the shadows)."  Or "Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start."  Or "Nessun Dorma, Nessun Dorma...."  Or "She hit the flo [She hit the flo], Next thing you know, Shawty got low low low low low low low low"  Or.....I could go on all day.  Just ask Pete.  Truly, it takes a strong man.
10. This was so hard, I just couldn't come up with TEN!  You all know that I never EVER waste time!

Two hundred eighteen to go.  Excuse me while I go to YouTube and learn the Solja Boy dance.  Yoou. Yoooou.

I is for....Or the ABC Along Proof I Have Not A Creative Bone in My Body

Indigo

Are you surprised? I am. I tried every which way to come up with something not blue for the letter "I". I finally gave in because I am getting so behind on the ABC Along that I might have posted a picture of ice cubes.......... Wait a minute! Of course! I'll be back. I have another "I" that I am going to add to this post before I publish it. You'll not know the difference, but tomorrow (you know, my tomorrow at this second that I am writing) I will have a second "I" for my "I is for" post, another one that is obvious if you know me, but took me until just this second to think of it. And now I have to make some to get a picture.

I'm back!  And now:

I is For......

Iced Tea, of course!

All winter long, I drink hot tea. Cups and mugs of it every day. Steaming, warming to the inside, hot tea. And I wonder, all winter long, if I'll ever give it up. Surely I will drink hot tea right through the summer, I am so addicted to the stuff. At the very least I'll keep my morning cup as habit even through the warm weather. I truly cannot, during the winter, imagine a single morning without it. Gradually I replace my mugs of hot tea with iced during the day, but I hold onto the morning hot cup until suddenly I realize I am drinking Iced tea all day long. I usually brew a pot in the evening to cool and be ready to take to work the next morning, and sometimes brew a second pot when I get home. Depending on who is home, several pots may be brewed in a single day. I brew a lot of green tea to pour over ice and use mint from my garden to flavor it. We brew fruited black teas, flavored greens, straight up plain teas. Personally, I never add sugar, rarely lemon, and believe that iced tea should be sipped from glass, not plastic. Of course, having said all that, you are just as likely to find me with this:

If the Starbucks tea looks strong, well, it is really my tea in a Starbucks cup, I rinse and reuse them once, sometimes twice. That is Adagio's Strawberry Tea, it makes a great iced tea. In the glass above is Sweet Cranberry Black Tea, brewed to be iced today for the first time here and it is YUMMY! I love it.

For those who will wonder: I am usually brewing loose tea, so I just use a teapot and infuser just like when I brew hot, but use almost twice the tea, taking into account the ice melting into it. I'm really careful not to leave it too long or the tea will be bitter and no amount of melting ice will change it. Just like when brewing for hot, use boiling water for black tea and water about 185 degrees for green. Some other favorites to pour over ice:  Mango Black, Moroccan Mint Green, Orange Black, Tazo Zen Green (this is the green iced tea served at Starbucks), Lemony Gunpowder Green, and tomorrow I think I'll try the Chocolate-Dipped Orange. I wonder what that will be like.

Two hundred nineteen to go.  Just how many of 26 letters in the alphabet can I twist into something to do with the color blue or tea?  Or both?

Sign Seen Today At An Outdoor Fair

And Pete had to remind me to get my camera out and take a picture for the blog. Can you believe it? Honestly.

Two hundred twenty-one to go. After nearly seven months of daily blogging and I still can't remember to be on the lookout for any lame blogable moment!

A request:  Can Amy of the former CyberGoddess blog please email me?  Thanks!

You Tube SaturdayLate but Almost Never Forgotten

It is probable that most of you have seen the fake trailers for real movies or sequels to real movies, making Mary Poppins look downright psychotic and turning Silence of the Lambs into a love story.  This trailer for a sequel to The Titanic is pretty clever and is a plausible premise for a real movie.

Two hundred twenty-two to go. In the nick of time!

Friday Flowers and Friday Lists

1. Typepad is slooooow today.
2. And I haven't even been blessed with the updated version yet.
3. I am looking forward to some of the new features.
4. I was not a fan of the last time they changed the way images are put up on the blog.
5. I'd still prefer the old way.
6. At least I think I would.
7. If I could remember exactly what was different.
8. I imagine that is what I will be thinking in a few months down the road.
9. Or maybe I'll just be hosting my own blog by then.
10. I really hope not.
11. This is really the limit of what I want to do.
12. And I have been happy with Typepad, for the most part.

1. Local news is sometimes ludicrous.
2. The other day there was an announcement of a lost dog.
3. A LOST DOG!
4. On the BOSTON AFFILIATE!
5. As I desperately tried to push my jaw back up into place, I turned to Pete to comment, only to find his eyes bugging out.
6. I wonder if my cat got out, could I call channel 7 news and have them send up an Amber Alert?
7. Imagine the news turning into a Craig's List of lost pets and missing items.
8. And the personals:  To the girl Joe met on the 7 train on Wednesday the 21st, brown hair, green sweater.  You are his future, call the station.
9. And then there is the reaction to Ted Kennedy's brain tumor diagnosis.
10. In some cases the entire news was devoted to Ted and his life.
11. The obituaries were flying fast and furious.
12. There were special memorial programs for a man that is still very much alive.
13. I have visions of the senior senator from Massachusetts walking the streets of Hyannis callling, "I'm not dead yet!  I'm not dead yet!"

1. Something happened today that inspired a little bit of hope in my soul.
2. I went to the bank to get some cash to take to the Massachusetts Sheep and Wool Festival, held this weekend.
3. A young man who, based on the writing on the truck he was driving and on his shirt works for a local landscaper, held the door for me.
4. Not only that, I was a good ten yards from the door, far enough that I wouldn't even have expected him to and he opened it and waited for me to walk through it.
5. Then he made it to the second door to open that one for me, too.
6. AND he smiled.
7. A polite young man!
8. Some mother trained that boy well.
9. I almost asked for his number.
10. NOT FOR ME!
11. For one of my daughters, he was cute and polite. 
12. And in their age range.
13. And has a job.
14. Who knows?  It is probably a summer thing.
15. While he is home on summer break.
16. Whatever, he went out of  his way to hold the door.
17. That is a rare thing.

One last list:

1. A blogger that I really admire has recognized this blog with an Excellence award.
2. She remarks on my "eclectic blog", that I have a "friendly, homely atmosphere."
3. I am at the same time humbled, flattered and amused.
4. Amused because now, a few new people will probably come by expecting something great here.
5. Have you read this blog lately?
6. I think it is fairly obvious that normal (and some abnormal) life stresses are squeezing in on me.
7. Also obvious, I'd rather be spinning.
8. Every second,  it is all I can think about lately.
9. My drop spindles are smokin'!
10. All of this conspires to keep me from posting much more than a photo.
11. This recognition makes me want to try harder.
12. Next week.

Two hundred twenty-three to go.  "I'm not dead yet!"  Ted could be singing, "Stayin' alive!  Stayin' alive!"  Give the guy a break!

A Graduation and a Birthday!

All in the space of one week!

Happy Birthday, Gillian! I wish for you happiness and love.

Ten Things To Love About Gillian:

10. She is pretty, inside and out.  The inside is the best though.
9. Loves to cook when she is home.
8. And she is good at it.
7. She is sensitive and caring.
6. Especially when it concerns her sisters, stressing over their issues as if they were her own.
5. She is a hard worker.
4. She is really funny and entertaining, especially even when she doesn't intend it. Heh.
3. She can sing, she can dance, she can sew, she loves Disney movies, Broadway shows, she can drive us nuts and she can charm us.
2. She is adventurous and loves travel.  The girl is always up for everything.
1. And the number one thing to love about Gillian: No more college tuition bills!

Two hundred twenty-four to go.  And Gillian is 23.  Like all parents, I wonder where the time went.

Wordless Wednesday orI'm Much Too Busy Spinning To Write A Post

Two hundred twenty-five to go. I know you're wondering: Grafton Fiber spindle with the first installment of the Spirit Trail Fiber Club on it. It is a blend of alpaca, merino and silk. The color is gorgeous, shades of blue with some very subtle emerald green and pinky-purply spots. It totally matches the spindle, making me so happy.

Ten on Tuesday

Ten Movies You Are Excited To See.  I can't even think of ten movies that are coming out!  I'm always a little behind on these things.  Of course, just because I've linked to trailers does not mean that I will actually go to a theatre to see any of these flicks, but I might see one surrounded by strangers that talk and crinkle and chomp on popcorn.  My, that sounds downright curmudgeonly, doesn't it?  The second half of this list are movies on my Blockbuster queue, some are old, some I've seen, some not.  Hmmmm, let's see.....

1. Well, the Indiana Jones movie, Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
2. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Raider.  I enjoyed the first two.
3. Get Smart.
4. Hancock.  Will Smith, always worth the price of admission.
5. Iron Man looks like it could be fun.
6. The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.
7. Snowcake.
8. Something the Lord Made.
9. Robin Hood:  Prince of Thieves.
10. A Raisin in the Sun.

You might notice that a few of those movies hint that I am in the middle of an Alan Rickman film festival right in my home.  To that end, we watched Galaxy Quest and Sweeney Todd is sitting here waiting to be watched.  Galaxy Quest is a very funny film.  I mean, if you like silly satire, you'll love it.

Two hundred twenty-six to go.  Time for a movie marathon weekend, don't you think?   

I Made A Cute Bag!

Well, looky here.  Unlike a lot of projects, either fibery or fabricy or needlepointy or....., this one was purchased and cut out and sewn up and is now in use.  Can I hear a w00t!? 

The fabrics and pattern are by Amy Butler.  The bag was a sinch for me to make and given the way the pattern is written I think that even a beginner seamstress could probably handle it.  Actually, for me the pattern was slightly, annoyingly verbose, explaining things in more detail than I needed so I abandoned it altogether and put it together on my own.  There really isn't anything to change with the construction, although I did topstitch around the opening of the bag to keep the inside from rolling out, I didn't think pressing with an iron would be enough to do that.

Now I want to make this  out of this fabric (I already have the pattern and fabric-that was in my stash!), and this (the picture in my mind's eye has it filled with more fiber and spindles), and this one, and these don't count the dress patterns and fabrics I have picked up along the way (actually patterns not fabric, I'll be sewing dresses from the stash to start).  Now if I could just quit my job sewing to stay home sewing.

Two hundred twenty-seven to go.  A stitch in time saves nine.  Nine what?  I wonder.

I'm Okay With This!

Take the What Cartoon Character Are You? Quiz
Myspace Quizzes!!

Two hundred twenty-eight to go. "You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head." “Homer, I don’t want to leave Springfield. I’ve dug myself into a happy little rut here and I’m not about to hoist myself out of it”-Marge Simpson.

YouTube Saturday

Thanks to everybody wishing Gillian well on her graduation into life.  Yesterday was a cyclone of activity and driving.  Mostly driving.  The graduation went off with the weather hitch, moving it indoors and making the outdoor photo taking and reception a cold and wet affair.  After we had a dinner out (and finally warming up) we moved Gillian out of her dorm and hit the road for home.  What is generally a five hour trip was more like seven, much of it spent south of New Haven in bumper to bumper, barely moving traffic made worse by the downpours.  Not.Fun.At.All.  Aside from a bit of tummy upset, thanks to eating crap food in large quantities due to boredome, we got a little punch drunk along the way, listening to one of those stations that plays just about everything, singing along (well, me, not Pete) and reminiscing.  We heard two songs by Fine Young Cannibals along the way.  We disagreed over who sang the first one, but Pete's guess of WHAM (WHAM?) was wrong.

Then this one played, and in digging up the video I cannot remember all of the peripheral stuff in it, I only remember thinking that it was Roland Gift singing and barely moving, and somehow making it all smoking hot and sexy.  Maybe you agree, maybe not, but mmmmm.

But as hot as Roland is, I cannot hear this song without immediately thinking of this version, by far the best and while not exactly sexy, pretty fun.  I wish the video was better, if you can figure out all of the celebs, good for you.  I cannot tell who that is in the captain's hats.  Anybody?

Two hundred twenty-nine to go. Anybody in the New York City area with a job opportunity for an Arts Administration graduate, experience in broadcasting and public relations, get in touch.  She loved the PR internship she worked at and would love to stay in the entertainment arena, especially theatre.

Not a Good Night for the Geese

A quick post from Staten Island, New York.  I wasn't sure how to begin this post, as I have a story about the drive, but it isn't a happy one, and the reason we are here actually is a happy one.  By now, around lunch time, Pete and I will be the proud parents of a bouncing baby college graduate!  With honors and everything!  Sending her out into the world, it's almost like birthing her all over again, except this time she has to start paying her own bills.  (Fingers crossed.  Toes, too.)  She has chosen to come home for a couple of weeks and then move back to NY to find a job and a place to live.  She has a place for the summer, so, you know, the fingers crossed thing again.  Pete keeps asking what we should get her for graduation.  WHAT!?  We PAID FOR  MOST OF IT! and will probably pay her RENT for the summer.  I think we have done more than enough, don't you?  More on this story to come, complete with a photo or two, I am hoping.

So.  We left home this afternoon (well, yesterday afternoon) around three, headed to Boston to pick Meg up on the way to New York.  We had to take Pete's big honkin' gas hog of a truck, because Gillian is moving the contents of her dorm room, wait, that makes it sound like there couldn't be very much to move, but really.  You would think we were moving the whole freaking dorm back, for all of the Rubbermaid containers and suitcases we will load into that truck.  It never ceases to amaze me, the amount of stuff that can be crammed into a hole in the wall dorm room.  Anyway, there we are, in the truck and as usual for travelling with me, we had plenty of bathroom breaks.  The only reason I mention it is because one of them was combined with a stop at a Panera in Connecticut, south of Hartford someplace.  Practically shaking with hunger I went in, used the facility (like that?  I could add detail if you want it), ordered our food to take out (we were in a hurry) and headed straight to the car.  I didn't look right or left, the need for protein was so great.  Pete hops in the truck and asks, "Did you see all of the knitters?"  WHAT!?  I missed the KNITTERS!!!!  What kind of a knitter does that make me?  The girls saw them, too!  A bunch of them, knitting out on a Thursday at a Panera and I missed the chance to look at them as I walked by.  Anybody out there reading that was at a Panera right off of 95 in CT last night?  I missed you!

We continue our journey, the light waning into that time just past dusk, when there is just the last little bit of light so that you can't really see anything, but it isn't pitch out yet.  In the center lane, surrounded by traffic, we are whipping right along when in the right lane I see a beautiful and potentially horrifying sight.  Two beautifully graceful geese are crossing the highway and I we get closer, going 75 mph, me with both palms to my temple screaming, "Don't hit them, Don't hit them!"  I see the babies.  Probably seven or eight goslings waddling into the highway to certain death.  We passed, the family had not made it to our lane yet, and I had a choice to make.  You see, my mind goes.  Usually to the worst possible scenario of any situation, it just goes, plays out the story in gory detail, and my mood goes with it.  But this time I decided to imagine the cars miraculously stopping and the new babies making it across the road (where, to be truthful, there was no place to go as this section of the highway is seperated by cement barriers, those birds were toast) and everyone living happily ever after.  Along I ride in my delusional state when several miles later a car passes us and pulls into our lane.  At first it took me a minute to register that there was something being dragged in the undercarriage of the car, but as the realization hit, and my delusions blew away like so many feathers, I had to hide my eyes in shock.  I didn't want to look, but couldn't help it for some reason, that beautiful thing being dragged in our headlights for miles.  I couldn't help but think that all of those hours spent sitting on the nest were for waste, the whole little group gone in an instant.

Then my mind went immediately to a childhood memory.  My mom was driving in highway traffic, and I have this feeling that it was from the airport.  Those were the days when families had only one car and when my dad travelled we would drop him off and pick him up from the airport in Baltimore or Washington D. C.  I'm in the back seat and we are driving, bumper to bumper, on a three or four lane highway, when a family of ducks begins to cross the highway.  People were looking and pointing, autos were slowing down, some were trying to stop, when, and this part is really blurry to me, the ducks walked in front of our car and my mom ran over some of them.  I remember being stunned, but conflicted.  You know how, when you are around seven or eight, that your mom is a super-hero?  That she is lovely and loving and does everything for you and she could never do anything wrong?  I thought that she could have stopped, we weren't going that fast.  Or were we?  She would have stopped if she could have, right?  There were people in other cars (it was a very warm day, windows were down) screaming at my mother.  I remember one man in particular, with long hair and a moustache, yelling at my mom for killing some of those birds.  I think I sided with the other people for a minute and asked my mom what she did?  Why did she run over them?  I don't remember her answer clearly, but something about the highway traffic and it would be dangerous to stop right there, so maybe we were going faster and my memory is in slow motion.  I have thought of that day over the years, but would never bring it up to my mom.  I wonder if she remembers it.  I'm afraid bringing it up might make her sad, so I never do.  That little conflicted girl still lives in me, wondering, was my mom right?  Were those people yelling at her right?  I clearly remember feeling really bad that that man yelled at my mom, with such vitrol it turned him road-rage ugly.  It is funny to me, that even today, with the added tool of adult reasoning, I still can't work it all out.

Here is one last final truth, another conundrum, and this might make you stop liking me for a minute or longer.  Here's the thing.  While I mourn that family of geese, as beautiful as they are, I also cannot get over that they are nasty dirty things that infest public areas and poop all over them, making them inhabitable for humans.  I, like my grandmother before me with her pigeons (she would knock their nests off her house), would fight a war to keep my yard clean.  Watch, I'll get home from New York and find a family has mistaken our pool for a pond and moved in.  It wouldn't be the first time.

Three hundred thirty to go.  I'm so glad I'm not that woman, getting home and finding a huge goose under my car.  I found a bat stuck to my windshield once, ewww.  That's enough.           

The HaulThe Non-fiber Stuff

The vendors at the fairs are not always carrying just fiber wares.  Often there are fiber related things and other artisans, peddling their wares.  I often wonder how well they make out at these festivals.  Are the attendees focused only on the fiber they can't find the rest of the year or are they in enough of a spending frenzy that they will buy other things that strike their fancies?  I don't know what it is for me, although I did go intending to purchase this:

I had purchased the blue mug in the backround last year in Cummington and I love it. So much so that when I have company for tea and have to offer it to my friend, I get a little possessive over it. I know, weird, I have many great mugs, so I don't even know why this matters. Anyway, I got this mug from The Spinner's Hill booth, and that is all I know about the pottery there. There are a lot of different pieces that are extremely reasonably priced. I have to work hard not to start a collection.

For the second year Judy and her Ball and Skein yarns have shared space with Leslie Wind, a jeweler who creates wonderful shawl pins, pins, earrings..... you know, jewelry. Heh. I was talked into these earrings even though I couldn't get one through my right earlobe. I haven't tried to push an earring through it in at least a couple of years, but with encouragement from the crowd I came home and after a shower I worked a post through my lobe. There weren't tears (I'm pretty tough), but I am keeping a close watch for infection, as it is pretty sensitive at the moment. It will still be awhile before I am able to wear those beauties, but I will, along with earrings that my sister gave me, which Erin is trying to steal. "Mom, you never wear earrings anymore, and you won't wear dangly ones!" Oh, yes I will!

My last stop of the weekend, on the way to the car, was the tea guy. I got my fourth iced tea of the weekend from him, and it was the last he sold, I got the rest of the ice and the iced greet tea. It was delicious, no sweetener, just mint. Refreshing and cool and helped keep me awake for the ride home. I also bought loose leaf tea, I highly recommend the Feather Tip and the Dragon Well and I can't wait to try more. The iced tea went well with the bag of kettle corn I got along the way out. That day was the worst. I actually ate a hotdog on a white bread roll. Ugh. I must've been really hungry.

Well, that's that.  A little more than a week before Cummington, plenty of time to work out a budget for that festival, right?

Two hundred thirty-one to go.  The fiber up there on the Grafton spindle is from the Spirit Trail fiber club, a blend of alpaca, merino and silk.  Yummy.  And it matches the spindle.  :)

The HaulWarning: If Blue Isn't Your Thing, Then You Can Move Right Along

My budget was just about blown in the first hour.  The truth is, my budget wasn't as much as I have allowed myself in the past, so it didn't take much to spend it right quick and I did go over it just a little bit later in the day.  For now I have only photographed the fiber bit of the haul, tomorrow I'll show you a couple of other little things I picked up.

The first place I went was the Grafton Fiber booth.  It is well known that the batts produced at GF are wonderful and I have a couple that I have been spinning that I love.  Since they aren't producing the batts the way they used to I wanted to scoop up another while I had the chance. 

There is a bit more turquoise than I could capture on film, so to speak

As I was leaving I saw this baby:

See the little moon on the side there? This also has more green in it than I could get.I was drawn to the blue shaft on it.

Then I wandered around, not really thinking I would buy anything else until I visited the Foxfire Fibers booth. And Barb had done some truly luxury batts. As I picked over what was left (Manise let me know that she had already bought all of the really good blue ones.......way to rub in my tardiness!) I finally settled on this one:

Pretty blue with mauve, but the blend of BFL, cashmere and silk with a little angelina feels so luscious, it could be any color. Just gorgeous.

Then I found this Grafton spindle at the Foxfire booth:

So pretty! So blue!Everyone was so charmed that the spindle matched my fiber!

And look how it turns purply it turns when viewed from an angle. Is the fiber shopping finished? Almost. I am so lucky that friends have my back. Cheryl had made it to the Foxfire booth ahead of me and seeing the feeding frenzy attempted to call me on the phone that I had left in the car. When she couldn't reach me she went ahead and bought this for me:

I'm so lucky, I have friends that I don't deserve, the really thoughtful ones.

I think that is that. Now I really need to spin, spin, spin!

Two hundred thirty-two to go.  Tomorrow the non-fiber festival fix!

Ten on Tuesday

Ten Things You're Really Good At.

1. Laundry.  "I am the laundry queen!  Not so sweet, way past seventeen!"  Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum.
2. Daydreaming.
3. Remembering advertising jingles.
4. I have an unbelievable knack for finding the one seat next to a person that will annoy the hell out of me.  Every.Single.Time.  In the movies, at a play, or (and this isn't sitting) in line at the store.  The talkers, the crinklers, the loud chewers.  There I'll be.  Remember, don't sit next to me or you will be sitting next to the annoying ones too.
5. Procrastinating.  I'm really, really good at this.
6. Cleaning.  I'm so thorough that I just never get started, because I obsess and it takes too long.  So the place is always a mess.
7. Ignoring the mess.
8. Sarcasm.  I try to hold it in most of the time, but you can be sure I'm thinking it.
9. Getting songs stuck in my head and sharing them with my family for days.  They really love that best about me. (see?  Sarcasm.  You never know if what you read here is my real feeling or sarcasm.)
10. I asked Erin, "What is something I'm really good at that drives you crazy?"  Her response:  "Ummm......  Simply driving me crazy."  Heh.  She is a laugh riot a minute, I can't imagine where she gets it.

Two hundred thirty-three to go.  After almost seven months, I'm still really good at forgetting to post to this blog until the last second of every day.  Will that ever change, or is it the habit I developed in 21 days?

Alpacas Being Intentionally Uncooperative

I always love the blog photos of animals after fiber shows.  It has been my habit to forget about the animals until after I leave and then regret having no photos.  So this trip I decided that the alpacas, being so photogenic, would be wonderful subjects for practicing with the settings on my camera.  The alpacas though, they weren't as into it as I was.

They turn their heads.They decide they're hungry.They go for a run.

Then, when I get all stealth and try to sneek up on them from on direction:

They all turn en masse. And they just cannot be tricked from the other side either.See?

After much persistance on my part, this baby decided she (or he, who knows?) was ready for her close up.

"Make sure to get my best side."

I was clearly not having the same luck that Grumperina was having with the alpaca population. Whatever, I turned my attention to some other stuff. Like yarn.

From Barb Parry as I shoot: "It sure is hard getting those skeins of yarn to sit still for a picture, isn't it?" Wise guy.

And spindles:

I still haven't photographed the little bit that I brought home, but I do need stuff for the rest of the week.

Two hundred thirty-four to go. Getting the yarn to sit still was easier than the spindles. They must have taken their cue from the alpacas.

Mother's Day Weekend Means

New Hampshire Sheep and Wool. It was a great weekend, but really. How different can a post about this weekend be than last year's or a Rhinebeck post, or a Maryland post......... Well, it probably can't, but here are a couple of things.

There was a Fleece to Shawl Competition

Lots of pictures were taken by lots of people. The fun of this should be turning up around blogville pretty soon. Those reports will probably include:

The blue ribbon that was wonWon by a team of pajama clad goofballs women
Spinning and weaving an interpretation of
Starry Night by Van Gogh
Interpretation by the Gogh Goghs

I'll share a little bit more about the weekend during the week. I didn't take a lot of photos, but a few are fun. And yes. I bought a couple of things, and while I'm sure none of you really care, I always like to look at what other people get, and this is at least a record of that, the blog. For when I totally forget what the heck I'm spinning or knitting.

Two hundred thirty-five to go. Paint your palate blue and grey.....

I Have Been Singing This Song All Day!Can't Get It Out of My Brain,So Now You Get It, Too!

Some of us, of a certain age, wait, scratch that. I have a feeling that most of us, no matter how old we are, have memories of Neil Diamond. My mom played that Hot August Night album over and over, I could probably sing and recite every word. It is a part of the soundtrack of my life in a way that, when I hear the songs, I get all happy and weepy at the same time. Song Sung Blue has a way of pulling even the staunchest of non-singers into a resounding belting of the chorus. And really, isn't it true? "Then before you know it, you start to feelin' good. You've simply got no choice!" So smile and sing it out!

Two hundred thirty-six to go. "Me and you, are subject to, the blues now and then. But when you take the blues and make a song, you sing 'em out again. You sing 'em out again!"

Lists

In The News:

1. Guess who is having another baby.
2. And baby makes twenty! (Not my quote, but cute, right?)
3. I know it isn't any of my business how many kids they have, but COME ON!
4. I don't care how organized you are, nobody can parent this many kids they way kids need to be.
5. I think that siblings are important, even great, but they aren't a substitute for parents.
6. And they shouldn't have to be.
7. I wonder if it will make the news when one of those kids rebels.
8. I wonder if the Duggars will be given any grandchildren.
9. Or if the kids are getting over their parenting right now, helping raise their sibs.
10. Pretty soon, they are going to run out of "J" names.
11. I could go on forever on this subject, but like I said, none of my business, effects my life in no way at all.
12. Except to make me thankful for vasectomies.

Take Me Out To The Ballgame......

1. Last week our family went to Fenway Park to see the Red Sox play the Blue Jays.
2. The Red Sox lost.
3. The game itself was actually a snooze.
4. But we had fun anyway.
5. I observed some things that night.
6. While it is said that Fenway Park is one of the worst stadiums in the league, there isn't another with its charm, that is for sure.
7. No matter how filled the seats of the stadium may seem, there are still just as many people waiting to plow you down on the way to the rest room or to get a hotdog.
8. I didn't have a hotdog.
9. I chose a sandwich from the "Healthy Choice" cooler. 
10. It was a wrap with one leaf of lettuce, two paper thin slices of tomato, a portion of a slice of american cheese and a few slices of deli turkey breast.
11. I only ate the tomato thins and the turkey.
12. I wish I'd had the hotdog.
13. Then to make myself feel better I got Cracker Jacks.





14. The Cracker Jacks ($4.50!) came in a bag, not a box and the prize stunk.
15. The prize was a quiz question/factoid thingee.
16. A better blogger would remember what it was.
17. Most people don't go to the game to watch it.
18. They go to talk to their friends on cell phones.
19. While Erin didn't talk, she did send a fair amount of text messages, one in the form of a photo of the game, sent to a bunch of her friends.
20. She immediately got a reply that said:  "You're here too!?"
21. It was fun searching each other out and waving.
22. Pete turns into everyone's dad when going out like this.
23. He is anxious to get to his seat, he thinks we left too late and are going to hit traffic (duh, it's Boston), he got edgy waiting for Meg to meet us, and he would walk ahead of us, lose us in the crowd and then turn trying to get us to move faster.  It was funny.
24. That night out cost us our entertainment budget for a few months.
25. While I missed the television commentary and still think the best seat for a game is my couch, I can't wait to go again.

Two hundred thirty-seven to go.  Rain, rain, go away...

Commercials Are Stupid

That is really all I have to say about that.  Especially beer commercials.  If I was a man, I'd be insulted that advertising companies think I am so dumb that these ads would work on me.  Actually, advertising has made men look like absolute idiots for years and years.  Along with the subjectification of women, honestly, I'm sometimes surprised it works at all.  And then I go out in public.  That is really all I have to say about that.

I've been swamped, but not in a bad way really.  Just busy, busy, busy.  I'm not checking emails, reading blogs (hardly at all) or even keeping my computer on.  I get up early, head out to work, errands, the gym, stuff, and then come home to get things done here, after which I am totally collapsing into a semi-conscious coma on the couch.  This is when I remember that I haven't even thought of the blog.  Sometimes I manage to come up with something, but I don't think tonight is one of those nights.  It is a night when I am questioning if I will make the Blog 365, knowing full well that there will be something on this site if it kills me.  Then I might just shut.it.down.  Or not.

Meanwhile, if the tragedy in Myanmar shocks and saddens you, and you are wondering if there is any way  you can send help, read this post.  If  you are hesitant, I know Wendy and she has always seemed very genuine and honest to me, so I am sure that she wouldn't post if she didn't trust what her cousin writes.   

Two hundred thirty-eight to go.  "Great thoughts reduced to practice become great acts."  -William Hazlitt

I just love Erik Larson, I hope he is working on something great right now. After reading Devil In the White City, I was anxious to read this next of his books, I had pretty high expectations. While I wasn't really disappointed and recommend this book with out reservation, I still think Devil in the White City was a book I enjoyed more. Thunderstruck follows the development of wireless telepathy, I mean telegraphy, by Guglielmo Marconi, the man who saw the potential social and business applications of this new technology and the story of a murder, one that captured the attention of the world at that time. The two stories are told parallerly (is that even a word!?) until the final chapters of the book, when a collision occurs that helps the communication abilities of the times, the early 1900s.  Intertwined, in Larson's expert manner, are details of the history, politics and social feel of the day.  If only history could have been taught this way, who wouldn't be interested?  I have to admit, while Larson apologizes (in his words, half-heartedly) for the gory details of early forensics, that didn't bother me.  The details of the science behind wireless telegraphy though, they were beyond me.  And while there was so much of that in the beginning, including all of the struggles Marconi had and all of the walls he hit, there wasn't so much of the solutions he must have come up with near the end.  Of course, my mind was fogging over with the physics, so I may have missed it.   

If you haven't read one of Larson's books, go do it.  Every one is a page turner of the best kind, because it is all real and true.  I love that as I read each of them, I learn so much about things that we are so used to that we take them for granted.  From cable to communication to wireless!  Ironic that we are leaving some of that for cable again.....

Two hundred thirty-nine to go.  Are you keeping track?  How many days in a row have I posted?   

Ten on Tuesday

Ten Places You'd Love To Go To (That You Haven't Gone To Yet):

1. Meg Swansen's Knitting Camp
2. The Green Monster during a Red Sox game
3. Cruise to Alaska
4. Valley of the Kings in Egypt
5. The Winter Olympic Games
6. The Grand Canyon
7. The Dry Tortugas
8. Austria
9. Santorini, Greece
10. Crazy, wanna come?

Two hundred forty to go.  Oh wait, I think I've gone crazy once or twice.......

My Sewing Mojo Is Rearing Its Head!

Today was a cutting day. I love when I have a day to stay home, plan and cut a bunch of things and then there are projects to sew on in the few minutes I have at home for the rest of the week. Among the things I cut today is the Swing Bag, yes I am probably the last one on earth to the Amy Butler party. That is me though, always the last to jump on the bandwagon, always one step behind the current trends. Whatever. (And yes, you Amy Butler enthusiasts, I know those fabrics are from different colorways, but again, whatever. I liked them and I'm going with that!)

This pattern called for 5/8 yard of two different fabrics, it will be a reversible bag. There is a reminder to purchase more fabric if you are going to be centering any motif, and I had purchased a full yard of each. The first fabric has a smaller pattern repeat and the centering was easily managed. The second fabric was purchased as a yard that was already cut and for sale as a yard cut in the store. I grabbed it and brought it home, which at first I thought was a mistake. Look here, see that large motif?  Had I paid attention I would have had a piece cut that would have left plenty of space so it could be centered. There was a nano-second when I thought I would go purchase more fabric, but I can't get back to the fabric store before the end of the week and I didn't want to wait. After critical examination of the fabric I decide to try and center this part of it.  It could work.  And it did.

Actually, I think I like this even better. I'm especially charmed by the way the branchy, viney things that climb up toward the handle sections. It's almost perfect. Now, had this been a window treatment at work this next little snafu would never have happened, but see the very top of the design at the center? I so would have placed the pattern a little higher so the top of it wouldn't end up in the seam allowance. Crap. Well, even if the bag is reversible, it doesn't mean I have to reverse that hideous thing to the outside, does it?

Two hundred forty-one to go.  Let the sewing commence!

Late On A Sunday

Two hundred forty-two to go. Where the heck does the weekend go?

YouTube Saturday, Handbells(you really should watch these, I promise you'll like it.)

Last week I let it out there that I am a member of a handbell choir. While I wasn't surprised that alot of people didn't know a whole lot about handbells, I was surprised that some knew nothing and some didn't think they knew anyone that was a ringer. At first thought, it might seem a boring thing, people standing there, making music with bells, a sort of stagnant thing, maybe boring to watch. You would be so surprised! Some handbell concerts are so exciting, the intensity of the musicians and the activity! There is movement and excitement in playing of handbells, especially playing difficult pieces and playing them well. I have watched handbell choir concerts in which I have been on the edge of my seat, almost breathless, wondering how they can weave between and around each other, sharing bells, ringing then malletting, then changing keys and bells many times in a section of music. There is an art to it. Every bell has a spot and once it is picked up it has to be returned to that spot, quietly, quickly and accurately so it can be found with ease by that ringer or the next one that needs it, and so it isn't clanked by the next bell set next to it because it is too close. Often a ringer is reaching for a bell without looking down, and it has to be there. I have rung in groups as small as three, ringing the three octaves that we have at our church, moving up and down the tables, moving in and around my companion ringers (which were my daughters-I love those memories) in a piece written for three ringers, or in a group of eight ringing the three octaves, which can be, depending on the complexity of the arrangement, just as difficult. This next video is a great introduction to handbells, what they are, how they came about and what it takes to ring them. By comparison, these fourteen ringers are ringing something like eight octaves! Our group of eight, consisting of mostly beginner ringers, rings three octaves.

Gillian and Meagan have rung quite a bit, ringing duets and solos. Watching one or two people ring has an electricity to it that always transfers to the audience. Even a non-musician can see and appreciate the physicality of the task. A lot of practice goes into that feat. Watch this:

And if you aren't convinced that it can be fun and exciting, or it is for sacred music only, this group should change your mind:

How about Stairway to Heaven? Hee.  Or this solo.  And this one.  How about Fiddle Tunes for Bells? There are so many good YouTube handbell videos, I'm stuck on it.

Locally, the New England Ringers put on a really entertaining show and are in the midst of their spring concert series.  I really recommend that, if you can make a concert you do it.  These people work really hard and it shows.  I'll be attending at least one, if not more.  Maybe I'll see you there?

Two hundred forty-three to go.  Why can't I get rid of the ringing in my ears?   

It Started to Look Like I'd Never Be Home Today.

Wow! Here it is, 11:48 p.m. and I am finally home! I woke up this morning and hit the ground running (and late!) and have been going ever since. I have a list post prepared in my mind (stuff about going to the game and whatever else I come up with), but the time and the martini I just had are keeping me from being able to type anything at all. If I left the errors you'd be amazed. Or maybe I am leaving the errors and just think this is somewhat readable. So, in my semi-buzzed state I have decided to have YouTube Saturday at some point tomorrow, as usual, and have the list post that I would have written today on Sunday and for today I'll give you a photo, which is probably all you would have gotten on Sunday anyway. And they say I can't hold my liquor (is that spelled correctly?)! I give you my peeps:

Two hundred forty-four to go. It took me a lot longer to write this that it should have. Now I am going to pass out bed.

Really Boring Blog Post

Boring Knit Blog Picture of Blue Knitting

Everything took longer than expected today and having plans with the family to go here, running even shorter on time I had two choices: Blog or run. You will be happy to hear I chose run. No boring post from me today, well, except this poor excuse for one (actually, this is a good excuse for a boring post). Heh. The run was good (as in it is over which is better than none at all), tonight I'll be wearing my longjohns and screaming until I'm hoarse. You'll have to wait to hear about the truly boring blue knitting.

Two hundred forty-five to go.  Really boring postscript.