Category Archives: Diary

In Which She Chronicles Her First Time Knitting With Her Own Handspun

One and a half repeats, half-width swatch of the pattern for my eldest goddaughter’s Yule gift, a convertible wrap/scarf/capelet/hood, knit with the Navajo-plied sample of my own handspun yarn:

Notes for the record (because my journal is mostly for my reference, after all): Swatch measures 6.25 inches wide by 3.75 inches high, pinned out (4 x 6 unpinned). There’s a bit of variation in the thickness of the yarn used, which is understandable; this is the first fibre I’ve spun of this type, and the n-plying was a bit tricky to get used to. But the pattern forgives a lot of the variation. Overall the yarn is pretty even, nice and solid, and knits decently. It’s not as soft as I wanted it to be; I suspect the two-ply will be softer once knit (it’s certainly softer to the touch in the skein), and that may end up being the element that decides two-ply vs. n-ply in the end. I want it to feel soft against her throat. If it’s beautiful but a bit scritchy, she’s not going to want to wear it. As for the pattern, easy-peasy. The hardest thing is going to be remembering which row I’m on of which repeat. I will make a list and check off every row as it’s completed.

(Gentle readers, you’ll have to bear with me as I publicly natter and keep notes about this project for the next two months. I can’t write about the other Yule gifts I’m making since the recipients read the journal. Someday my goddaughter will be old enough to read it, too, and then we won’t be able to squee about the cool stuff we think up for her any more. Speaking of which, I could have sworn we capered about in words and photographs regarding the truly stunning wand HRH made for her this last spring, complete with stunning storage box, but I can’t find it anywhere. Hrm.)

Okay, I have to admit, this particular swatching was a total spinning geek thing. Most knitters hate swatching, especially because swatches aren’t one hundred percent reliable (it also slows you down, because everyone wants to jump right into the Exciting Making Of Things!, and knitting a swatch is the equivalent of checking your materials and measurements sixish times before starting [needle size correct? yarn weight correct? yarn composition correct? affected by washing? stretch? definition?] and of looking both ways fourteen billion times before you cross the street). But swatching a handspun to make sure it behaves the way you need it to (before you spin/ply it all up and discover that it’s useless for the purpose for which it was intended)? Crucial. Because otherwise you not only waste your knitting time, you waste the fibre you’ve spun and the time used to spin it. Also, I’ve never knit with (a) a handspun yarn, let alone (b) a handspun yarn I produced myself. So yes, this was a total spinning geek thing.

I’ve been spinning with the wheel since I got in a third week of September, but the fibre has been for experimental purposes only, or for other people. It wasn’t until I couldn’t find the right yarn with which to knit my goddaughter’s Yule gift and realised that I could spin the yarn I wanted to knit with that I really, truly understood how spinning and knitting were going to work together for me.

I don’t think of myself as a knitter. I’ve finished all of nine things in the past year since I began knitting, mostly hats (two) and scarves (three). Things beyond simple knit stitch scare me. I’ve only just mastered yarn overs and k2tog. I can’t purl to save my life unless I do a bunch of them in a row; alternating purl and knit breaks my brain. Ribbing makes me suicidal or homicidal, depending on the day.

But spinning? Love it. The problem with spinning is you end up with yarn, and you have to figure out some way to use it up. Offloading it to friends once it’s good enough is one way. (Gods bless Ceri, who cheerfully supports this method; so much so that she buys me fluff to spin up so she gets yarn at the end of the process. If anyone else wants in on this, let me know; I am not kidding. Fully serious. You want handspun yarn? Ask; we can work something out where everyone benefits.) The other logical way is to use it up by knitting with it myself.

This was always going to be a problem for me, because as I pointed out above, I don’t think of myself as a knitter. Someone needs a hat or a scarf, so I make one. My office is cold, so I make a lap blanket. I need slippers, so I knit a pair. The boy falls in love with Star Wars, so I knit a lightsabre. (Just work with me on this one, okay?) I don’t stash yarn the way other knitters do; I go out and buy what I need when I need it.

So yes, it took me this long to figure out that I could actually spin a specific yarn for a knitting project I wanted to undertake. Because for me, it’s primarily about the spinning, not the knitting.

(Except in this case, where I decided to make something special for my goddaughter because I remember how I felt when one of my relatives gifted me with something grown-up around this age. I decided to knit a beautiful wrap for her, but I couldn’t find the perfect yarn for the project. Enter spinning as the solution. In this instance, I worked backwards: a knit project needed a handspun yarn, instead of a handspun yarn needing a knit project.)

Anyway, despite my thick skull and amusingly slow connecting of the dots, I here demonstrate my first knitted handspun sample. I’m really extremely proud of it, and I think I have every right to be. Because I not only knitted that swatch, I spun the yarn with which it was knitted. And it acts like real yarn. I can’t get over that bit.

Of course, swatches lie like lying things, so I can’t trust it fully. But I can admire it, even before washing and blocking it. And I invite you to admire it, too, if you like. Really. I’m horrible with compliments, but I’m so thrilled about this particular accomplishment that if you want to compliment it or me, I won’t stop you or duck it, I promise.

Next up: Knitting the same sample with the two-ply made from the same handspun singles I did the n-ply with. Ceri has confirmed that the two-ply is softer to touch and the colours seem brighter, so we’ll see how it behaves when knitted with the same needles in the same pattern. I suspect it will be a bit splittier, but the way it feels may make up for that.

In Which She Is Pleased, Then Despairs, Then Demonstrates Genius

So, this lace scarf I’ve been knitting.

You are not going to believe this.

I get to the end of my scarf, which was essentially defined by how much yarn I had in the skein of Koigu KPPPM. I look at what’s left of the lovely Koigu yarn I’m using. “Oh, I shall do my knit row, and then cast off,” I think. So close! So exciting!

I do my knit row.

I start casting off.

And realise that I’m not going to have enough yarn to do more than a third of my cast off.

I MEAN SERIOUSLY.

I can’t tink or rip back because it’s lace and I don’t have a lifeline. I’m certainly not going to buy another $14 skein of Koigu just to use less than a yard to bind off. So I need to use a length of another yarn to complete the bind off. Do I have anything of the right weight or colour? No!

Hang on. Wait.

Last March I bought a nice fingering weight superwash yarn in an Irish Cream colour with which to knit some fingerless gloves. The ribbing on tiny tiny needles drove me nuts and the project is in hibernation. I never even opened the skein, because I started the cuffs with a brown yarn instead. So I dig the Irish Cream skein out, cut off a yard, and try to dye it a colour at least somewhat similar. I mixe up some kelly green Wilton’s with a touch of brown to tone it down. It works on white paper brilliantly, and the dyeing process works equally brilliantly. It even has a mottled effect, like the original Koigu has! Once it’s dry, I compare it to the Koigu and see that the brown has been unnecessary, because the yarn I used wasn’t pure white: the result is a bit more olivey than the green of the Koigu colourway, and less variegated than the wet strand had suggested. But it’s certainly close enough to use in a pinch. However, I decide to try with another yard, just to see if the green alone matches.

But either way… I just unlocked the Dyeing Yarn achievement. Go me. (Yes, yes, it was pretty much a given once I figured out how to dye fibre, but you never really know till you try.)

ETA: The green alone was too bright, so I overdyed with a touch of brown; the result is toned down and more variegated, which better matches the original yarn. The green bits are very, um, emerald green, though. Still; no one will notice, as it’s just the bind off. (You hear that? NO ONE WILL NOTICE. Or else.)

Come on, yarn. Dry fully already, so I can cast off and be done with the damn scarf.

ETA: And DONE!

And here’s a look at the colour-matching dye trials. The one on the left is the second attempt and the one I used; the one on the right is the first attempt.

Yay!

Look what’s all spun up:

Now the burning question: Do I two-ply it, or chain/Navajo-ply it? (The sensible answer is to try both. And because even though I weighed it before spinning it up [I swear, I did] there’s more on the second bobbin than there is on the first, so I can try chain-plying from that one.)

(Hmph. Not sure why the picture isn’t displaying vertically like it’s supposed to. Tilt your head to the left.)

ETA @ 16:50: Oh my gods. Navajo plying with a thread-thin single of my own spinning. I may weep with joy. It’s so smooth.

ETA @ 17:25: Wow. So very different.

This is the Navajo/cable-plied yarn:

This is the two-ply yarn:

Here they are side by side:

To touch, the cable-plied feels more solid. I want to say harsh, except it’s still soft, just less lofty than the two-ply. Oddly, I think the colours are a bit muddier in the cable-ply than the two-ply. I expected the opposite, since cable-ply is touted as a great way to preserve colour changes. Maybe on a coloured single that changes less frequently than this stuff.

Now I get to wash both, dry them, and knit a sample in the stitch and pattern I’m going to be using it for to see how each sample handles, and how the colours are best shown. I’m kind of excited about swatching with them.

I suspect that I’m going to need Ceri’s in-person input on the samples this Saurday when I swing by her place to pick up my new ball winder and needles.

In Which She Natters About Everything For A Bit

Oh, Mr. Mailman, you do love me. I was beginning to think you didn’t care. I know I don’t order stuff any more — I’m not writing a contracted book and so I’m not ordering used books I can’t get through the library, and I don’t have the money to buy fun stuff. But today you brought me a little freelance cheque. This was a pleasant thing to offset no mail at all this week so far. That was sad. Although no mail means no bills, so there is an up side to it all.

My current freelance assignment is going swimmingly. It all flows and mostly lacks spelling and grammar errors. It’s refreshing to be able to read a story that hangs together with well-written characters and dialogue. The last little sixty-page one that was supposed to be easy after the four-hundred page disaster ended up being just as much of a disaster, as it wasn’t even an outline. It’s really, really hard to supportively review something that essentially isn’t there.

Because work was going so well yesterday I had the opportunity to knit the boy a hat. This was supposed to be a Yule gift, but we discovered yesterday morning that he has no hats that fit him beyond his ball caps, so it got a bit more critical. I knitted the whole thing before he got home, tried it on him to size and place (somewhat, er, freeform) earflaps, and he fell in love with it. He kept thanking me and running to look at himself in the mirror. What I haven’t told him is that I found an excellent web site that turns pictures into knitting charts, and I had planned to double-stitch the Autobot symbol on the front for him before I gave it to him. As he has absconded with the thing, I shall stitch it Friday night after he’s in bed, and leave it for him to find Saturday morning.

Orchestra was good last night. At least, it sucked less that it had for the past three weeks, so things must be better. I still need to work on some of the Beethoven trouble spots. Some I have down, others I don’t (which is an incredibly helpful statement, I know). We got to play the Schubert, which was nice because I could play it with no trouble even without practice, and we sight-read the first movement of the second Weber clarinet concerto (well, it shouldn’t have been sight-reading, because I’ve had it for two weeks) and that wasn’t as much of a disaster as it could have been once I remembered that we were in E flat major. It always sounds so wrong until you hear everyone else playing.

Today is laundry and bread-baking (both already on; the freelance work-at-home life is such a glamorous one), and then when I’ve polished my report on this latest ms. I’m going to finish spinning the singles for the wrap. I have about a half-ounce of fibre left, and I’m so close to being done. Of course then I get to ply it, which is another kettle of fish entirely. I discovered last week that I need a second swift, because having a skeinwinder is all well and good, but once you’ve washed a skein you need to unwind it and wind it on again to measure the length properly. The good news is I can build one with jumbo TinkerToys, so I don’t need to buy one. (Now we just need to find the TinkerToys and convince the boy it’s Not To Play With once it’s built; he can have the bits I don’t use. Or, you know, I could ask the husband to knock one together in his copious spare time at work. Along with those extra bobbins.)

Actually, I’ve been wondering if I can’t use the old textile mill quill-style pirn bobbins for storage of singles and plying, assuming I can get a bunch of the inexpensively at flea markets or some such place. I know the holes don’t go very deep, but HRH could drill them a bit deeper. The trick would be winding the singles onto the quill bobbins, but if one located an old manual bobbin-winder, one could do it. Theoretically. (Oh, look, they make new ones, but good grief they’re expensive, even the manual ones. Wow. And new storage bobbins, too, but those are much less fun. )

Which brings me to the discovery that the great wheel my mum owned for years and recently placed in Ceri’s sunroom was retrofitted to be a bobbin-winder. The spindle doesn’t extend out to spin off the tip; it’s been hacked so that it lifts out of the brackets to enable a bobbin to be slipped on, and the drive band runs the spindle/bobbin combo to wind yarn on. Apparently it isn’t uncommon for great/walking wheels to be kitbashed in this way. Gods, I love the Internet. People can share so much information.

Right. On to that work thing. After another load of laundry and punching down the bread.

Weekend Roundup, Thanksgiving Edition

Friday night I had a good cello lesson. We cleared up some fingerings in the Beethoven symphony, then I said I wanted to work on recital stuff instead of my lesson stuff. I’d been playing on Thursday night with the practice mute (a good hour and a quarter of practice, hurrah, although it meant I didn’t sleep well) and was struggling with making an Air by Bach sound properly smooth, and I’d worked on the Mozart duet and Ashokan Farewell too. I also finally said I needed to walk away from the Berceuse, because I was fighting it so much that it was causing more problems that it was solving. My teacher said that leaving it wasn’t a problem; we’d revisit it later. Although, she added, I’d been making progress on it, even though I couldn’t tell. The Mozart duet had good parts in it, and I have notes to help me focus on string crossings and smoother shifts. We worked out better fingerings for the Bach that made it so much easier, so I’m feeling better about that too. I don’t feel as overwhelmed by it all any more.

Saturday morning I took the boy out to run errands with me. We dropped some books off at the Melange and bought two candles, one for Thanksgiving (the boy chose ice blue) and one for Halloween (the boy chose orange, naturally). Then we went to our local yarn shop, and I’d mistimed travel slightly; we arrived just on the stroke of eleven, and it hadn’t opened yet. The boy stood there and burst into tears, and wouldn’t listen to me when I said the we’d just sit and wait; he thought we were going home. (Yes, my son gets upset when the yarn store is closed. Of course, there is a toy fire truck there, and he loves the spinning wheel and the containers of yarn, but still.) I’d managed to get him to sit on the step with me and look at the new drawing app on my iPod when MA arrived with her keys and let us right in, bless her. “Are we going to be here for a long time, Mama?” he asked hopefully at one point. I told him that I hadn’t brought knitting or spinning to work on, and that we’d have to go home eventually for lunch anyhow, but I love that he was hoping we’d be there for a while. (It may have been directly connected to the fun he was having pushing one of the wheeled storage containers of yarn around like a train, of course.) We got all the fibre I needed to spin for various projects, plus a skein of yarn for another Yule gift and one to knit a hat with earflaps for the boy. Somehow my list of things to make for Yule has tripled in the last two weeks. I officially have what Ceri calls a Knitlist. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Saturday morning was overcast and gloomy, but the clouds were swept away for a bright though windy afternoon, beautiful weather for the wedding we were to attend on the south shore. Weddings of friends are always wonderful, because you get to see people you love in formal dress, something we don’t do enough of. I had the pleasure of handling the cufflinks for both the groom and best man, and assisted Jan with boutonnieres for the wedding party. (We were both on site early because t! was celebrating the wedding with assistance from HRH.) Lovely ceremony written by t!, sat with excellent people, touching speeches made by the best man and the maid of honour, and generally an all-round pleasant time. I want copies of the pictures others were taking because my own camera sat in my bag under the table. I think I was photographed more than I’ve ever been photographed at a wedding that wasn’t my own. Or maybe I was just standing with members of the wedding party a lot. We left around nine once the lights had gone down and the loud music had begun. There had been somewhat loud music throughout the meal as well, and I found myself kind of shouting to people across the table. Something irritated my throat in the middle of the meal and I had a coughing fit, which ruined my voice for the next day. All in all, though, we were with excellent friends celebrating a wonderful day, and it was a good time.

Sunday morning went out to Chapters to pick up the new TMBG kids’ album. I had deliberately waited a month and checked stock online to make sure it would be there. Well, it wasn’t. They looked on shelves, they looked in back, they finally concluded that it was somewhere in one of the ten pallets in back that had technically been received (i.e., someone had entered ISBNs, titles, and quantities from an invoice) but not unpacked. And the senior clerk I spoke with admitted that they were behind, and that it would take some time before those pallets were opened and shelved properly. I was thoroughly unimpressed. This isn’t the first time I’ve run into the “in stock but not on the shelf” issue at this shop, but it’s the first time they admitted to being so far behind that they couldn’t find it in the warehouse.

So the boy was disappointed (as were HRH and I, because we love TMBG’s kid stuff, too). Another book I wanted was also not on the shelves, despite there being twelve available according to stock check. I did pick up the copy of Amy King’s Spin Control I’d intended to come home with, though. From now on, I will call in advance, as much as I hate phones.

We did the grocery shopping, then I chatted with my mum and spun up another ounce of the yarn for my goddaughter’s Yule gift. We made cookies late in the afternoon, then I put the tiny cross-rib roast we’d bought in the oven for a somewhat unplanned Thanksgiving meal at home. It turned out perfectly, meltingly smooth, served with roast potatoes and carrots from the garden, drizzled with a separately-made onion gravy. Before we began to eat we lit the ice blue candle the boy had chosen for Thanksgiving and I asked if he wanted to say anything special. “No,” he said, “just Happy Thanksgiving.” I said I was thankful for food on the table, family and friends, and the roof over our heads, and the ability to enjoy our many hobbies and activities. And then we swooned with yum at the incredibly delicious food on our plates. The boy patted my hand during dinner and said, “I love you, Mama. Thank you for making this dinner for us.” He had seconds of potatoes and carrots, and ate every single piece of roast beef on his plate, impressing both of us. Oddly enough, he refused gravy. Once upon a time he wouldn’t eat anything unless it had gravy, so lo, we have come so very far. We’ve also come far in the successful roast beef department. Pretty much every roast I’ve done in the past few years hasn’t turned out the way I wanted it to for some reason. In fact, this one nearly didn’t; after roasting it for twice as long as I was supposed to it still wasn’t cooked through, so I hacked it into three pieces, laid the less cooked sides up, and roasted it at a higher temperature for ten minutes. The result was sheer perfection, so hurrah for my experience and instincts working together to actually get dinner on the table.

Once he was in bed I checked e-mail and discovered that I’d won… a copy of Amy King’s Spin Control in an online draw. (Insert whacking of forehead here. I am very pleased, of course, but also abashed.) So I will be returning the copy I bought and using the refund against the purchase of The Intentional Spinner, which they’ll need to order in for me. Not only that, I got a message from Aurora saying that she’d been in Vermont for Thanksgiving and had found a case of Vanilla Coke, and was bringing it home for me. An embarrassment of riches!

Monday we lazed about in the morning. HRH and the boy built a fort with a quilt and some chesterfield cushions, and the boy set up a Thanksgiving dinner inside it for all his stuffed animals with great enthusiasm. While he napped I spun up another ounce of yarn for the wrap. After his rest we went to HRH’s parents’ house for the official family Thanksgiving dinner, where I got another six inches of lace scarf knitted before dinner. Dinner itself was spectacular. The boy ate a staggering amount of turkey, half of it from the carving board before dinner itself, and the other half from drumsticks that he brandished like a pirate. He tried the stuffing and the purple cauliflower and passed on both of them, but ate several carrot sticks.

All in all, a lovely holiday weekend. Now we turn to winterizing, putting plastic over the windows and making things as efficient as possible. HRH put in the second outside window in our bedroom, and took out the screens in the boy’s room. We’d turned the central kitchen heater on last week and used the ceiling fan to circulate the warmer air when it went on, but yesterday we set all the room thermostats at 15 degrees, just to make sure things didn’t get too chilled. The outside gardens need to be fully cut back, and the compost spread over the beds, too. Snow has been spotted in the air not too far north.

Fifty-Two Months Old!

The boy has become quite the Lego expert. He builds wonderful little vehicles, my favourite of which was the steampunk car that had a propeller on top. He completely gets this from his father, because I think very poorly in the cube-based three-dimensional manner Lego requires.

We have had some very enthusiastic pretends lately; this past weekend saw him romping through house with stuffed owls and bunnies (“I have new springs!”) being chased by pretend crocodiles. The maturity level of his playing is becoming more complex, as are the situations he sets up for his cars or trains or stuffed animals. He uses his imagination, which resides in his head right above his right eyebrow, I am told.

He’s still interested in cooking, and will drag his chair over to help me use the stand mixer. He is especially enthusiastic about cracking eggs. (The success rate is about fifty-fifty. We’re getting there.) We made cookies for our at-home Thanksgiving dinner and when we put the first tray into the oven he went and got his little chair and set it in front of the oven door so he and Blackie could watch them bake.

The relationship with Blackie is… evolving, I suppose. His first can’t-be-separated-from toy was Bun-Bun, the stuffed rabbit Roo gave him when he was about seven months old. Bun-Bun was replaced by Blackie-Whitie this Easter, and the boy will pretty much always insist on bringing Blackie out of the house with him. The problem is, once out, he often forgets to collect Blackie and bring him back to the car or the house. Sometimes he tries to shove Blackie into our hands so he’s free to do whatever he intends to do, but we’re working on getting him to understand that he has responsibility for whatever he brings with him.

Naps are still happening, thank goodness, although he misses one now and again. They’re down to an hour and a half. He’s still sleeping about ten hours at night. The bad cold he had this past month had him waking up at least once a night for a good two weeks straight, and lately he still has a tendency to wake up around three or four in the morning. Then again, we all do these days, so it’s not so surprising. He gets put back to bed, and while he is upset at the time he falls asleep quickly.

The boy whistles better than I can. It’s both cheer-worthy and annoying.

He’s getting quite good at photography. As we have had one camera damaged already in the past three years, we are kind of jumpy about letting him use this one, but when he’s calm he’s pretty good with it. We’ll be looking for a secondhand one for him for Yule. I think I was about six when I got my first camera, a little Kodak Instamatic. Allow me to share one of the coolest artistic photos he’s taken so far:

He also took the pictures of me spinning. He needs to work on keeping people’s heads in the frame, and thinking of faces as the focus, but in general he’s not bad.

Perhaps not surprisingly, he picks up music extremely quickly. I’ve noticed it in the car, where he can often sing most of the words of a song after two cycles of the CD, but his teacher has noted it as well, saying that he often has new songs learned after one go at circle time.

He has suddenly mastered zippers, getting his arms into coats, and doing up belts. Getting socks on is almost there. He’s trying valiantly, but we often have to set them on his toes so he can pull them over his foot and up his leg.

Reading: he knows more than he’s letting on. This is frustrating for us. I understand that he doesn’t want to lose the closeness of an activity like reading together, but nothing we say or do seems to convince him that we’ll keep reading to him if he admits that he can read on his own. His language skills are noticeably developing more and more. His inflections and sense of humour are really emerging. He’s starting to engage in wordplay, which is hilarious. There are a lot of “Why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes going on, which are funny because they’re not funny, if you know what I mean. ( “Because his knitting was on the other side!” will kill your audience because you’ve missed the point of the joke.)

There were two big events this past month. The first was his first trip to go apple picking. We had a wonderful day out with the Aubin-Murphy clan, helping the kids find the best trees, the highest apples, and enough ladders so they didn’t have to keep taking turns. The second was the harvest ritual at Rowan Hill Farm, which was the first ritual he was old enough to actually understand and participate in independently. Both events were full of enthusiasm, love, running around outdoors, and absolute joy. It’s when I see him running around in situations like this that I can’t help but feel joy as well. It’s catching.

Weekend Roundup: Crafting Weekend Edition

Originally planned as a weekend away in Alexandria, this weekend was revised when two of the original hosts had to bow out due to health issues. Ceri hosted it instead, we tweaked the meal plan a bit to reflect fewer people, Mousme couldn’t join us till Sunday due to what began as alternate plans and was revised to a shoulder injury… but we stayed true to the original vision of the weekend and had much fun.

After untangling and rewinding the Skein of Doom we determined that it was in fact too light for the project Ceri needs it for. Turns out it’s a wpi or so thicker than fingering weight. (Colour me plenty astonished, and allow me to pat myself on the back for accomplishing that light a weight so early in the spinning game.) I suggested spinning some worsted weight Corriedale for her. She wibbled a bit saying that she didn’t want to create more work for me, and I said, “Do you realise that it will take me all of four hours to spin what you need?” So off I went, and I had it about 90% plied by the time I left on Sunday, too. It was an interesting exercise to consciously spin something thicker than my default setting, and at one point I laughed at myself because whereas before I’d been looking at the thick bits of yarn and saying, “Bah, yuck,” now I was looking at the thin bits and saying, “Bah, yuck.” After skeining it this morning and doing a test wpi, I have discovered that it’s between worsted and Aran weight, and I am very proud. It’s lovely and shiny, and softer to touch than the fingering weight spun from the same fibre. Now I need to do another seventy yards or so to get to the yardage required by Ceri’s pattern.

While rummaging around for something this weekend (she did a lot of magically producing equipment and supplies for various people, bless her) Ceri discovered a 2oz bag of coloured fibre she’d gotten at the spindling workshop we’d taken in May. Turns out that it’s exactly the colours I was looking for with which to knit a Yule gift for my goddaughter. So I’ll do a test spin of it (ha ha, fingering weight, go me!) and if it spins up well I’ll get Ariadne to order a half-pound of it in for me, and my goddaughter shall have an extra-special gift. Assuming I can get it done by the solstice, that is; if not, her birthday’s in early spring.

Working in a group of fellow crafters was remarkably soothing. What we might have blown up at if we were alone became an annoyed exclamation, sympathised with by everyone else. We proposed solutions to other people’s problems, or helped one another out. (The Skein of Doom would never have become untwisted without Jan’s help, for example.) It was fun, and relaxing, and we all accomplished an incredible amount of work because it was all we had to do, and we all want to do it again. I suggested a fall and spring schedule, so as to tidy away loose ends of projects hanging about before a new half of the year.

I sent Jan home with my spindle and some fibre. Muah hah hah. Also, poor Mousme, who was doped up on anti-inflammatories and codeine, kept being lulled into a trace by the spinning wheel.

I could try to write it all out in even more detail but I’m still down for the count energy-wise from the cold (this weekend was all about sitting down and not moving, thank goodness), so here, preserved for posterity, are the Tweets Ceri and I posted during the weekend. They became rewards or ways to cebrate various achievements.

Day One, 3 October 2009:

Ceri: Have decided to live Twitter our #craftingweekend. Because what is more hilarious than knitting? (1:00 PM)

Autumn: Two days, four women, crochet hooks, yarn, circular knitting needles, one spinning wheel. And livetweeting the process. What can go wrong? (1:24 PM)

Ceri: The weekend gets off to an ominous start when @owldaughter was attacked by her blanket yarn. Which then tried to escape. #craftingweekend

Autumn: Have just learned how to tink back. Backwards knitting: who knew? #craftingweekend (1:25 PM)

Ceri: Jan is here. We’ve moved to the sunporch. We have tea, cookies, pepperoni and cheese. Let’s roll. #craftingweekend

Autumn: Current music: The Puppini Sisters. When the tea is gone, I think the cider will come out. #craftingweekend (1:30 PM)

Autumn: It’s all about having a vision, even while you’re struggling with finicky little bits that don’t look like much. #craftingweekend (2:15 PM)

Ceri: Now my crochet hook flew out of my hands and attempted to commit suicide. Too much amigurumi? #craftingweekend

Autumn: It’s like magic! You knit, and the scarf gets longer. Magic, I tell you. #craftingweekend (3:25 PM)

Autumn: And now, to unknot the Skein of Doom. I spun it; I somehow twisted it while washing it; I get to untangle it. #craftingweekend (4:30 PM)

Ceri: The Skein of Doom is being threatened into submission with very sharp scissors. The Cursed Shawl is still sulking. #craftingweekend

Autumn: ONE HOUR LATER the skein has been untangled and remeasured. Couldn’t have done it w/o Jan. Thank the gods for cider. #craftingweekend (5:48 PM)

Ceri: Dinner has been had, the cats have been kicked out of the sunporch so as not to get into fibre-related trouble.#craftingweekend

Ceri: Have discovered why the mittens are taking so long to knit. Needles are size 4. They should be size 4mm. NOT THE SAME. #craftingweekend

Day Two, 4 October 2009:

Autumn: Hearty breakfast has been had. All four crafters are installed. Let’s roll… day two. #craftingweekend (11:33 AM)

Ceri: Have reached the decreases on the hand of the mitten. Then I shall take out the Cursed Shawl and see if it is repentant. #craftingweekend (2:00?)

Autumn: Bobbin #1 of the second go at worsted weight is done (the DK isn’t quite heavy enough). Bobbin #2 is about to begin! #craftingweekend (2:00?)

Ceri: Took out the Cursed Shawl. Jan dropped six stitches. Coincidence? I THINK NOT. #craftingweekend (2:30?)

Autumn: Break. Back hurting. Not sure if that’s the lingering cold, or the spinning. #craftingweekend (2:30?)

Autumn: There was dancing to jazz. With cats. Not by me. But there was. #craftingweekend (2:45?)

Ceri: The Cursed Shawl is back on the Needles! All the stitches are there, I know what row I’m on, and the yarn’s untangled. WOO! #craftingweekend (4:00?)

Autumn: Second bobbin of Corriedale spun. Now another break, then it shall be plied! #craftingweekend (4:00?)

Ceri: @owldaughter has left :( #craftingweekend is almost at an end. (8:00?)

Ceri: I finished a mitten! Woo! #craftingweekend (9:00?)

Ceri: … and my other guests are gone. So that means #craftingweekend is officially over.

Day Three – Summary:

Autumn: #craftingweekend tally A: 1 lap blanket tinked back and prepped to continue; 1 Cursed Shawl lifelined and ripped back, prepped to continue;

Autumn: #craftingweekend tally B: 1 thrummed mitten; 1 quilt basted; several quilt patches seamed; 1 baby blanket border completed;

Autumn: #craftingweekend tally C: bits of Mystery Amigurumi crocheted; another 2 inches of lace scarf knitted; 1 10 yr old sweater assembled;

Autumn: #craftingweekend tally D: tangled skein untwisted; 5 oz Corriedale spun and plied for worsted weight. I declare this weekend a full success!

Ceri: After #craftingweekend, my Christmas list feels manageable again. WOOHOO! Same time next weekend?

And the bonus Tweet from Scott, around mid-afternoon on Day One (which really should have had a #craftingweekend hashtag, to amuse readers):

Scott: The women are knitting and the men are killing zombies.

(Context, should you desire it: He encountered one of the original participants, who had cancelled due to poor health, playing Left4Dead online, so they slew zombies companionably while we crafted upstairs.)

Other stuff that happened this weekend: A good cello lesson Saturday morning, an errand run with HRH after the cello lesson, and HRH painted the front of his parents’ house.