Can I just say now how cranky hand carding makes me without a drum carder? The mere thought of it makes me extremely cranky.

The first week of high school has gone swimmingly for Josey. His school is amazing, and I was informed yesterday that he wants to play bass guitar. Bass. Rhythm is genetic, I’m sure I read that somewhere (or just made it up) so obviously he got all his good genes from me. Of course, general awesomeness is also genetic (citation needed) so that was from my side of the family too– I knew my baby was too smart to be a drummer.

Deb from Come Yarn Over left a message for me asking if I could make my little sheep with tape measures inside as customers were asking for some. I haven’t called her back yet. First because I wanted to get a tape measure and see if it was possible (it is) and second because I wanted to blog about it.

This is the difference between men and women. Women think it’s a super cute idea and want to know if it’s doable, and if it is what kind of variations are possible. I’m going to paint with a broad brush here but in general crafty women get cerebral about design and want to help troubleshoot.

Men on the other hand (crafty or otherwise) overwhelmingly turn into immature little boys that think all things potentially butt-hole  related are fascinating and immediately suggest that the fob for the tape measure should come out of the sheep’s butt. This idea is generally hilarious to the men folk, and they think it awesome and good. I have no idea why but every single man that has heard about (prior to my prototype) or seen (post prototype) the sheep tape measure project has insisted that the tape should come out the sheep’s ass.

Here’s the deal fellows, if you want a tape measure to come out a sheep’s ass then you can order one ($9 + shipping) from me special. Email me. Otherwise they are going to be nice and not have anything come out the ass.

My singles from the dyed roving are coming out a little fuzzier than I’d hoped. I’m  adding a little extra twist for a harder more defined yarn. Sometimes dying does a little to correct the texture, this time that was not the case– I’m sure I’ll live through it. Pretty sure at least.

Today is Josey’s first day of high school. I think I can say with some certainty that he’s taking the transition from home-schooling to high school better than I am. Pretty much any casual observer could say that, since I’m the one freaking out and he was (as usual) all not freaking out.

Theresa definitely has talent working with dyes and raw wool, and it was a delight to spin up with this batch.

I didn’t have to go overboard with pre-drafting, for the most part I just unrolled and drafted straight from the top. I could have probably added a bit more twist and gone for a harder better defined yarn– but I didn’t, still I’m pretty happy with the way things turned out.

There it is on the bobbin. And here it is as a finished skein:

I’ve tried to get back into a regular pace with life which given my short attention span, it probably only surprises me that I haven’t quite got a grasp on it yet.

I don’t actually have a problem plying, except when I’m actually plying. I love the magical way it makes uneven bits disappear, I love balanced yarn, I even love the tweedy effect with blends like this one. I just do not love doing it.

For some reason the task is much more tolerable when I have something else I could be, or should be, doing. In this case I probably should clean out my car, do some laundry and plan dinner.

Oh how I love plying!

I pluck it right from the tiny sheep in my living room. Where he got it was from FiberOptic on etsy. He’s a wise little sheep with very good taste.

My other fiber order got lost in the mail.

This is a 50/50 blend of bamboo and merino, handpainted in shades of brown, deep brown and black.

This is exactly how I like my coffee: Rich and full of wool.

I’m spinning it up as a lace weight because I feel the need to do some lace knitting coming on.

I fed him this morning and although he likes the little freeze dried bloodworms he told me (and I quote) “I’m so sick of these motherf*cking flakes in this motherf*cking tank.”

Lots of attitude, movie aficionado, lean mean meme machine. Itchy is my kind of fish.

In addition to Itchy I also put in a fiber order with Little Barn again. This is the first time in practically forever that I’ve been able to buy a significant amount of spinning fiber and I’m pretty antsy because it’s being shipped UPS ground from Alabama to Oregon.

I have plowed through the last of the white BFL making a three ply worsted weight on my wheel.

It’s a frustrating balance, I sold my drum carder on the cheap to a lady taking up felting so that I wouldn’t be tempted to put off purchasing a new better drum carder and to clear out enough space to house a new better drum carder. Of course, things happened and the money for the new better drum carder never magically appeared. (Well, sorta– it did actually but I spent it on bills and food for the children and practical things.) So the things I normally look forward to doing when I get new and unusual (at least to me) fibers are off the table at the moment.

Oh yeah, I could totally blend fibers with my hand cards– except that would require me to actually try to match rolags, and then there’s that whole using hand cards. It’s one of those labor equations that comes down to investing money or suffering, I’m one of those people that prefers to invest the money and skip the suffering.

But first– the markers. Lets just linger here for a moment to let the glory that is handmade goodness sink in.

Just breath. Relax. Try not to covet. It feels like warm sweet sunlight showering down after a long cold winter doesn’t it?

I’m shocked and delighted by the two extra stitch markers– the little elephant and the Hello Kitty. Squeeeee!

And more Squeeeee!

Her very own handspun yarn and a book and Hello Kitty swag– it’s like Christmas without all the annoying fire hazards and relatives.

There’s even candy!

(I will make the yarn nekkid and try to take some really sexy pictures of it later)

She even sent me some catalogs to give to Lexi. (Yeah, my 5 year old likes to read catalogs– a little weird, but at least she’s reading something.)

Last month I bought some Shetland roving from Serenity Sheep Woolens. I’ve been playing with it for a little bit and after a few samples, I went for a more rustic yarn.

I love naturally colored wools. This stuff is a dream to spin up, I’m not predrafting at all (even though I probably should) and its cooperating fully with long draw spinning.

What have I done with the real me? Obviously, I am not me. I just can’t be.

Look at my poor dog. Georgia knows that I’ve been taken over by some alien life form that is controlling my central nervous system and it makes her sad.

She is overwhelmed by the responsibility of saving me (and the rest of humanity) from a sinister force that sends out parasitic drones to pull us down into the hive mind.

Or, she’s just enjoying the remaining bits of residual butt heat from my husband’s chair.

I can’t tell.

Black Coffee sock yarn is officially finished. So mood controlling alien parasites can’t be all that bad.

Right?

It’s not like my theoretical mind controlling alien parasite is making me listen to Phil Collins or Kenny G. Or making me read Altas Shrugged, or design handbags from human skin (you know, things that are *truly* evil.)

The Black Coffee roving from FiberOptic is almost sock yarn now.

Please excuse the greenish hue, my camera does that under fluorescent lights. The greenish hue doesn’t exist in real life and I’m sure it could be corrected in Photoshop except that my attempts at correcting it turned out far worse than the original.

Note to self: If I *must* own expensive software, I might want to learn how to use it before it is obsolete.

At least I managed to get an accurate picture of the finished Dragon Tile.

I was worried that the red wouldn’t stand out against the gray background but it seems to stand out just enough.

Good lighting didn’t hurt either.

I’m itching to do some botanical dissections in thread. I’m thinking pillow covers.

The above paragraph probably explains why my husband rarely buys me flowers or houseplants doesn’t it?

All I need is tasty handpainted roving.

My family disagrees, for some reason they think its more convenient to have food and running water. I’ll never understand them.

This a sport weight that I made from spinning Moonlightbaker‘s Blue Steel roving.

40/60 bamboo/merino blend. I was sorely tempted to not ply the singles and just use them as is for sock yarn, and I probably would have if I hadn’t added so much twist when I was spinning.

The plan was to do a second Baby Surprise Jacket for Lexi, but I’m debating now– I’m thinking it might be fun to make her a kimono or ballet sweater from it. So many decisions.

Then I spun up some Superstition superwash merino from FiberOptic.

The squish factor is unbelievable. I’m very tempted to knit myself some socks from this yarn but I’m keeping my options open– it seems a shame to hide such pretty yarn on my feet. A new hat wouldn’t kill me. Or a little shrug.

Or I could just put the skein in a gallon sized ziplock bag and tape it to my chest with a note saying “I spun this.” (Yes, fashionable and bust enhancing– all the kids are doing it nowadays.)

Regardless, I decided I needed more of this good stuff and put in another order. I don’t know if I’ll spin up the second batch the same way, but I want to spin more of it.

My books finally came from Amazon. I’d ordered One Skein Wonders and EZs Knitting Workshop– and those are what came in the box so I’m pretty content.

I’m only slightly disgruntled because I was hoping there’d be more in the way of patterns using finer yarns and smaller needles in One Skein Wonders– I’m tired of doing math on patterns in order to get them to fit the yarn that I actually own. Not to mention the book pokes at my rant button; not everything that can be knitted should be knitted, some things really ought not be knitted.

Example: Coasters.

Don’t get me wrong, knitted coasters are cute. I just imagine setting my coffee cup on a poufy coaster and seeing it topple over and poof! The cuteness is gone as the searing hot coffee hits my skin and the loss of caffeine becomes a cold hard reality.

Not to say it’s a bad book or that I dislike it completely, there’s some cuteness to be had– its just that starting out with knitted and felted coasters was a bad editorial decision. Someone should have thought that one through.

I think I’m due for some housekeeping today. My work space tends to turn into a little Wendy-nest full of sheet music, yarn, needles, graph paper, books, doo-dads, and what-nots and a pile of hoodies that end up stacked on the back of my chair. At least until I freakout and tidy every thing up in one fell swoop. I have three hoodies and a cardigan on the back of my chair right now, which is sort of a personal record– since I only own three hoodies.

I feel a feel swoop coming on.