Category Archives: Photographs

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.

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.

Dull

First, a pretty picture: I’m currently spinning some Louet Northern Lights in the Cactus Flower colourway. It’s my first foray into spinning dyed fibre, and it’s fascinating me. I probably wouldn’t have chosen this to spin, but it was a test done with fibre on hand, and it turns out it works rather well for a project I had in mind. More on that later, though. Show and tell first!

Okay. Now for the less than cheerful stuff.

I seem to be at a pretty bad fibro low. The cold/flu thing that tag-teamed me through September really kicked me hard, and getting back on my feet is a very long drawn-out process that’s not much fun at all. It’s also that time of year where I’m restless, but don’t want to leave my office. I want to be out being distracted by things, but I don’t have the energy to either do it physically or mentally, since dealing with People At Large requires a heck of a lot of energy. And as I no longer have the car, going out via public requires more time and physical energy as well.

So I’m spending a lot of time flipping dully through stuff on the internet hoping for inspiration, researching spinning and testing stuff out because it relaxes me and doesn’t draw a whole bunch of energy from me, and getting frustrated because I can’t work. Work is… draining. It’s at the point where I’m not being fulfilled by it, and it’s just a paycheque. Which is not a bad thing, because I never set out on this particular freelance gig seeking fulfillment; it was always intended to be just a paycheque, because money is good. It’s just really hard to open these documents and run a review on them, because most of the time they’re poorly written and poorly laid out, and that’s really depressing. I have to muster up a huge amount of energy to deal with them, and that’s draining on a whole other level. What would probably fulfill me more is actually writing, except that whole finite amount of energy and currently low levels means I need to direct the energy towards paying/deadlined work first. I feel exhausted just thinking about writing my own stuff, and not terribly inspired. What I need to do is rethink how I handle these assignments. Maybe read through them entirely before starting to pull out the broken elements for the report, then handle the report at the end rather than starting with it at the beginning of the read-through, because it slows things down.

Cello is feeling kind of sloggy at the moment too, because I’m trying to internalize a whole lot of stuff that’s coming up in lessons, mostly about technique, and as a result a bunch of other stuff is breaking down. This is not unusual; very often we have to unlearn things, or take things apart in order to reassemble them properly. I know this intellectually, but my emotional awareness just sees things I was playing decently now being played horribly and piles on the self-confidence crisis. Orchestra is a slog too, because I’ve been dealing with the take-apartness issues (I’ve played everything on this program before, so why can’t I do it now?), the past month I’ve been ill and unable to focus properly, and I’m experiencing issues with bringing things up to tempo. I can play them sub-tempo at home, and I’m not up to speed yet at rehearsal, which, let me tell you, is frustrating and embarrassing when you sit second chair right in front of the conductor. (I am very specifically not looking at the Beethoven, here. I know, I asked for a Beethoven symphony; I’ve changed my mind. How about some Haydn? Or some Boyce?) So rather than being excited about cello the way I was in the spring and early summer I’m dragging my feet.

There’s a wedding this Saturday for which I’m trying to muster up the enthusiasm to attend. It’s Thanksgiving, which means there will be a visit to the in-laws. Perhaps that’s part of my trouble; we usually visit my parents at this time of year, and maybe not going is messing with my seasonal pattern.

Ultimately it all comes down to being frustrated because I don’t have enough energy to handle everything I need to handle. I want to go out; I stay home because I know that if I go out I’ll exhaust myself for an undetermined period of time. I can’t focus on work. Cello is at a not-rewarding point.

The one good thing that’s happening is spinning. I am so thankful I discovered it at this particular point, because it’s productive and creative while being not overly demanding energy-wise. I just started my first spinning with colour experiment (see above), and it’s brilliant. Ceri got the fibre as a sample when we took our spindle class together in May, and found it while she was looking for something else during the crafting weekend. The bag of roving was a bit garish, but I test-spun it and lo and behold, it’s exactly my goddaughter’s favourite colours: hot pink, deep greens and blues, and some purples. The colours soften and blend so much during the spinning process that the single is quite attractive. I’m so glad, because finding a yarn for the wrap I wanted to knit for her as a Yule gift was becoming quite a trial (not that I was looking for a colourway with all her favourite colours in it; this was pure serendipity). I’m spinning a fairly fine single, and fingering weight (what the pattern calls for — well, actually it doesn’t, it calls for laceweight, but I’m knitting a heavier wrap so I’ll be using fingering weight) will be no problem at all. Thank goodness my beloved LYS Ariadne Knits had another couple of the small 2oz bags in stock; they’ve got those aside for me, and all together that will be 6oz and more than enough (she said, crossing her fingers and looking sternly at the spinning wheel, which is totally innocent). Of course, once it’s spun up and plied I’ll have to knit the thing, which is another kettle of fish entirely. I am also planning to knit a hat with earflaps for the boy, so we shall see what all these good intentions bring.

Bits And Pieces

The Corriedale I spun shrank when I washed it, apparently significantly judging from where it’s hung when I tried to fit it back on the skein winder to evaluate it. It covers only three of the pegs and makes a loose triangle now instead of fitting around all four pegs to make a snug square. Better it shrink now than later after being knitted, but still; annoying. I’ll have to reskein it and measure it again to make sure Ceri has enough for her project. It looks very pretty in its little temporary twisted skein, though. (And upon trying to reskein it I find that it has tangled somehow, despite my careful tying. Grr. We’ll need to use the ball winder on the weekend. I need one of my own. Well, that should thrill the boy.)

The elastic on pretty much all my trouser socks has relaxed, even on the ones I haven’t worn yet. Everything I’ve put on so far falls down around my ankles. This is really, really annoying, because I love my patterned trouser socks for this time of year, and I haven’t even worn half the ones tucked away in my bin yet. It means I have to sort through my sock bin yet again and toss out what are perfectly good socks except they don’t fit my calves. (No, I have not lost weight or muscle tone; the elastic has gotten old, that’s all.) I don’t even know if thrift stores will take them. [ETA: No, wait! I know what I need: These funky brown sock garters I bookmarked ages ago! Hah, I just saved a whole slew of socks. Or I will have once I have the money to order these.]

I went to orchestra last night, and although everyone was horrified at how I looked and sounded I managed remarkably well. Working the first movement in such detail earlier this week helped a lot. I probably should have left at break, because I didn’t get much work done in the second half (and the bowings and slurs for the third movement are awful, I need to clean them up to make them readable which means a lot of corrector fluid), but even just being there absorbing the right kind of sound and the conductor’s directions was better than missing it entirely.

Today is one of those odd Twilight Zone kind of days where the sun hasn’t actually come out so I don’t know what time it is, and having an hour-long nap around lunch has further messed up my sense of where I am during the day.

I am working my way through polishing the freelance thing, taking plenty of breaks because I’m exhausting myself thinking through sentences. One of my breaks was to engage in a meme going around called the Handwriting Meme. I’m not big on memes and quizzes, but this struck me as really interesting. We read e-mail and people’s online journals all the time, and we rarely see their handwriting. I wasn’t specifically tagged by anyone (and good thing, because I hate that) but at least two people whose journals I read threw it open to anyone who wanted to play along. So here, for the record, is mine. Click it to embiggen so as to make it readable.


1. Write your username.
2. Write your 2 favourite bands/groups of the moment.
3. Write something you love, aka lemme see your heart.
4. Write the name of your favourite person of all time.
5. Write the name of your recent favoured person.
6. Tag 6 people to do this meme.

In other news, hello, it is the first of October, and I still haven’t finished the boy’s September monthly update. I’m trying, but I’m just slogging. And now there’s another one to do in ten days. I don’t have the mental energy. Even acknowledging the fibro I get pretty down on myself. And then I read Laura Hillenbrand’s “A Sudden Illness” in which she outlines her life with chronic fatigue syndrome, and I am so desperately thankful that my chronic illness is nowhere near the degree of hers. At the same time I feel a bit better about not having the energy to think things through, about not being able to find the right word, about not engaging in discussions that I’m passionate about. Too many times this past weekend I had to stop in the middle of a statement because I couldn’t think my way through to the end of it, which was really frustrating. I end up being brusque with the people who press me to continue or want to hear more, because I can’t think properly. It makes me sound like I don’t know what I’m talking about or as if I don’t care, and I hate that.

I know it’s also going to take me forever to get back to what-passes-for-normal-in-fibro operating levels once I finally kick this flu-cold thing, and knowing that makes me irritated as well. I wonder if that’s one of the reasons why spinning appeals to me so much. I’m sitting down, it’s a sensory-based activity that doesn’t require a lot of analysis and mental gymnastics, and I feel productive because there are tangible results. I suspect this is one of the reasons why writing has been frustrating me lately, because it requires me to think and I get lost so easily. You know, I can handle a lot about fibro: the aches, the sleep thing, not having a lot of energy available… but the fibro-fog that clouds my thinking processes? This, I hate the most.