Cripes

Once upon a time, many years ago, I had a different life.

In that life, I was a journalist. An editor, in fact, working for one of the largest, most respected newspapers in the country. It was interesting, and challenging, and exciting, and very very stressful.

About five years ago, I retired from that life, and moved onto this one. However, a few remnants of that life followed me, including a rollicking good case of repetitive stress injury.

It's one of those things that will never go away entirely, at least not without without surgery. And the surgery for my type of RSI is not an exact science - the chances that they'd make things worse not better run around 30%, which to me seems like a poor bargain. Anyway, now that I'm not spending 10 hours a day typing, most of the time it's not troublesome.

Sometimes it is, and now is one of those times.

No knitting for me, at least not much. No spinning, either.

All is OK, though. I'm fooling around with some natural dyeing, which is fun in a serendipitous mad scientist sort of way. It's not knitting, but it's enough of a fiber fix to keep me from seeing giant spiders on the walls.

Sigh.

Bohus, o Bohus - how I love thee

Telling you I adore the Bohus beyond reason and logic may be understating the case.

Have you ever had a knitting experience you secretly wished would last forever? That is so satisfying that it makes you want to forsake all other knitting? I have never once in my entire knitterly career made the same garment twice (with the exception of Standard Sock Pattern No. 1 and its many variants) but this Bohus... I would do it all over again, and again and again and again.

There is something about it that is so completely gratifying it almost hurts. Is it the color arrangement, so subtle yet vibrant it looks more like liquid than yarn? Is it the tiny little purl stitches? They amuse me to a degree that's truly embarassing. Is it the yarn itself, soft as a cloud and yet not shedding even a tinch? I don't know, and I don't care. True love defies logic.

If I had loads of money I'd be emailing Solveig in Sweden right now, ordering a kit in every colorway she has. Actually, if I had loads of money I'd order half a dozen each, just so I'd have a good solid stash tucked away for a rainy day. Plus extra skeins, of course, so I could make matching mittens and scarves and tams. I don't even wear tams, but that is a minor issue. We need not speak of it.

I mean, really, what if all the sheep and bunnies in the world suddenly go bald and I'm left without the means of obtaining another kit, ever? What if the Swedes declare war? You know how ferocious they can be. No kits then, bubba. It's all quite worrisome.

Of course I haven't yet reached the miles ... and miles ... and miles of plain green stockinette. Perhaps my ardor will fade after eighteen gazillion rows of mindlessness.

But I think not.

Quick hits

1. The "real" Bohus is in play. I'm about two inches into the colorwork, and so far I love it beyond all reason. The colors are so vibrant they look like they're backlit. And the yarn is sooooo wonderfully soft. I knit for a bit, then stop to pet it like a small fuzzy animal.

Progress is thus slow, but that's OK. Knitting pleasure of this purity must be savored.

2. Still slogging away on spinning up the Ashland Bay top. Two pounds takes awhile. Sigh.

3. Dyed a dozen skeins of sock yarn. It all came out really well, which is unusual. Generally at least one skein turns out not according to plan. This time, it's all good, baby. Hope to get pics onto Etsy within a day or so, and will post some pics here too.

4. Fussing around with blending some fawn Shetland with chocolate Angora from my bunny. Spun a test swatch at more or less fingering weight. So far, I am well pleased. At the moment I'm considering using this blend for the body of the handspun Bohus, adding silk only to the yoke.

Or, I could use only Shetland and colored Angora, no silk at all. And no dye. A Bohus done in all natural shades of wool and bunny is an alluring concept.

More research is needed.

Damn, damn, damn

1. Our only car died.

2. It died as I was on the way to see Stephanie Pearl-McPhee speak. I had been looking forward to going to this thing for months. I am quite disappointed.

3. My daughter is being medically discharged from the Air Force tomorrow and without a car I have no way of getting to the airport to pick her up. About this, I am panicky.

Life just never gets easy, does it?

Assorted other crappy things happened within the last 24 hours - those are just the three crappiest. Right now I wish I could crawl in a hole and just wait for this to all pass.

The only tiny piece of serenity I could summon today involved discovering, down deep in the needle drawer, a set of 10-inch size-0 double points. I didn't know I had them, don't remember buying them, don't remember why I bought them, don't remember if I ever began the project for which they were intended... but never mind all that. They are here.

Bohus time.

My size-1 circulars aren't in yet, so I may have to put the Bohus down for a bit after I get the collar ribbing done. Which should be tonight.

But that's OK. Today, I have two inches of wonderful, soft, soothing, mindless ribbing to work through.

Today, those are fine qualities indeed.

Yarn Harlot tomorrow!

Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, aka the Yarn Harlot, is going to be speaking at Webs in Northampton tomorrow night. I am so there! Her books have made me laugh on days when I would have thought that was not possible.

For those of you who have read her books or blog, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, well, good heavens. Get thee to a bookstore.

According to Webs, the pre-event attendance estimate exceeds the number of people who showed up for her big book launch in NYC. I'm guessing that means there will be over 800 knitterly souls in attendance. How cool is that???

In other news, the twoish pounds of commerically dyed top I'm slogging my way through is turning out pretty well. We had a conversation, during which it made its goals clear to me - it hopes to become a sweaterjacket. This was surprising, and a little worrisome. I think a sweaterjacket will require more like two and a half or three pounds. I may have to order more, which is silly given how much fleece of various kinds I have in this house. Sigh. I can only hope that by the time I get through the first couple of pounds it will have changed its mind.

And yes, I do talk to fleece. And yarn. Don't you?

Scour-palooza

The scourfest is almost over. One more pound of Shetland, currently in the sink, then I'm done, at least for the moment. My sink can hold about a pound of fleece at a time, so you can see that 'round these parts, scouring in quantity is a slow proposition.

I have another wee chunk 'o' fleece coming soon. It's an interesting one - see No.173, there at the top? It's from a California Red sheep. They are the same color as Irish Setters when they're born, then fade to a kind of oatmealy color with raspberry undertones when they grow into big sheepies. I've never seen one in person, and I've never worked with the fleece, so it should be a fun experiment. I'll post a full report when it arrives and I've had a chance to futz with it.

In other news, work on the Noro blanket continues, although slowly. I've managed a couple of inches per day, just to keep it from becoming sullen and petulant.

Various socks are in various stages of doneness. Some have become quite rude in their efforts to attract my knitterly attention. I had to stuff a couple into the bottom of the project bag just to get 'em to shut up.

Test cardings and combings of Tybee and the various Shetlands have been completed, and the spinning of swatches has commenced.

The Bohus swatch was exquisite, did I mention that? But the only additional progress I've made on that is to measure out the amount of fiber I need to have in each batt to make it all come out more or less the same. It's a long-term project, and by that I mean VERY long-term. If I have a handspun Bohus to wear this winter, well, check the sky, 'cause pigs will be flyin'.

HOWEVER. There is a close-to-instant-gratification option. Got to feeling a wee bit guilty about not making a "real" Bohus, with authentic yarn and colors and whatnot, so I broke down and ordered a kit from Sweden, which arrived a couple of days ago. I could sail right in and start it, except I had to order new Addis - I don't have any long size-1 circulars. Since I'm an American and have been reared to strongly believe that whatever I want should be instantly available, in great quantities, on the shelf of the local big-blob store, it's been a frustrating couple of days.

What's the plural of Bohus? Bohuses? Bohi? Whatever. Two Bohi. Two sweaters on size-1 needles. Clearly I need medication.

And while all this foolishness is going on, I'm also spinning some commercial top I got back in the day. So far it has stubbornly refused to just spin itself while sitting in the stash closet - pretty darn rude, don't you think? It had been very patiently waiting but a couple of days ago it leapt out at me, all fibery teeth and claws, and snarled that I'd best spin it NOW if I know what's good for me.

I can only obey.

Hand-dyed woolly goodness

Two entries in one day! This is a first. But I've been remiss as far as bloggerdom is concerned,and it's making me feel a little guilty.

Not only that, but right now I'm pretty tired of scouring stinky sheep fleece. Which isn't so good, 'cause I've got a long way to go before it's done. Willow and Maura's friends are waiting.

It's been busy the last couple of days. Spent Saturday the 19th at the Jamaica Fiber Festival. It was rainy and cold and generally a disgusting day. Surprisingly, I sold lots of stuff. (No one was more astonished by this than me.) I was up under a porch so at least I didn't get rained on, but I was so damp I thought I would mold. Just to give you a hint, Frank and I unloaded the car at about 9 a.m. It was raining then, and my hair got wet. No problem, I won't melt... but it was so mucky and humid even under my little shelter that the damn hair was STILL WET at 4 p.m. when the festival ended.

For those interested, here are some pictures of the sort of eye candy I had at the festival. (For those not of the fiber junkie persuasion, well, this all SHOULD be interesting to you - since fiber is fascinating and wonderful and lots of fun - but I'll forgive you for not realizing it quite yet.)

Sooner or later, I'll get stuff posted on the store web site, but the stupid thing is kludgy and awkward and I'm gonna do a major revamp of the coding before I post anything else, so it might be awhile.

Picture 1: Yarn. A crapppy photo of many skeins of hand-dyed, in sock weight and worsted.

Picture 2: Dyed Corriedale, two ounces in each bundle. These are fun. I paint 'em in complimentary colors, so if you're feeling bold you can ply one bundle against another and get something really unexpected and cool.

Picture 3: Sock bundles, superwash, six ounces each. I have learned through bitter experience that in my house, no matter how often or loudly I say "DON'T PUT THE SOCKS IN THE WASHING MACHINE" they will in fact find their way into that swirling, felting vortex. Therefore, in this house, socks for anyone other than me are made from washable wool. Period.

I deeply envy those of you who can knit hand-wash only socks with confidence. I knit hand-wash socks for myself on occasion, which works out fine. Socks for other, unnamed persons who reside in this household? Socks for anyone at all besides me? Superwash, baby.