New York is my Lourdes, where I go for spiritual refreshment... a place where you're least likely to be bitten by a wild goat.--Brendan Behan
Even the one wild goat that loiters on 23rd and 8th Ave. was felled by the heat.
Was it fucking hot this week? New York City becomes an Easy-Bake oven when it gets to 85 or so degrees. As I was standing by the Hudson at lunchtime on Wednesday, looking over at the city, the winds that always seem to blow were Gobi-like. No knitting outside, for sure.
The Sockratic Method
Will Plato really like the Opal Petticoat anklets? I'd better ask.
Just whizzing right along on these Pansy socks, given that I have averaged about 1 hour a day on them i.e., the amount of time that I can knit on the train each way before I doze off.
I must say, knitting socks with your own handspun is a tad different than knitting with regular sock yarn. For one thing, you aren't wasteful. I generally do a long-tail cast-on for socks, which I did this time as well but I gotta tell ya, I wasn't happy about the waste since I have exactly 427 yards of the Pansy.
Nonetheless, despite my best spinning efforts, in the knit fabric the inconsistencies show up like zits on a 14-year-old. But I rather like the homeliness of it. Feel like some cracked pioneer woman.
The Opal Petticoat socks are done. I was a bit piqued that there was a knot in one of the balls but I was too lazy to find the right starting place in the color patterning, especially since it was near the toe.
I wish I could say that I've done more, but sadly that is not the case because I spend much too much time earning a living and would love to be supported in style.
If anyone knows of a fifty-ish guy who would love a quirky, bottle-blonde zaftig woman who is intelligent, fun and not yet ready to give up the ghost, I'm game. Especially if he can handle the fiber. And me. Read into that what you wish.
And preferably hetero. I love my gay guy friends but they will understand the other needs I might have. Right, Joe, Franklin, Ted, Lars? Did I miss anyone?
I have two reasons to be a bit sad today. One is the swan song of You Knit What. I enjoyed the fug, contributed a picture or two, and I wish both Punk Rock Knitter and Knittykitty all the best. I do, however, find seeing fug in public even more rewarding. Although taking fug pics at Stitches for the Gallery of Ghastlies seems to be out of the question, I can give it a shot at Rhinebeck this fall.
Yes, there are a few pub fuglies there. But very few indeed. Most of the wearers of fug seem to be concentrated around the Great Adirondack Yarn Co. booth.
I was also sad to read that Elisabeth Schwartzkopf (or as Franklin calls her, Betty Blackhead), incomparable soprano, died the other day at 90. If you're an opera buff, you'll know who this is. If not, she's Stormin' Norman's aunt. In any case, the Wolverinas are probably tired of reading about this, with the exception of Franklin, who loves opera as I do.
I haven't gotten IK yet so I don't have anything to say about it. Yet. However, I took a quick look at the covers for Knitter's.
Scary. Of course. DragonBoy has outdone himself once again. Go see for yourself. I double-dog dare ya. Keep the slop bucket handy for spewing.
Of course, I had to check out what's going to be in the upcoming Handwoven. Jesus. Weaving for your pets. Do you suppose that Cleo might like a nice woven cape? Or perhaps a woven feedbag might be more the ticket.
The best she can hope for from me is some treats.
On the Road Again
Yes, it's that time of year once more. Time to break camp and move.
I can't describe how heartily sick I am of moving. However, this time we should be able to stay put until the Punk Princess graduates from high school. Reason for moving? Our landlord has put the house up for sale. Never mind that not a soul has looked at it in the two months it's been on the market.
We're outta here and moving to the next town over. Most fortunately, we've found a place where I will have my own fiber room with plenty of natural light and space for the loom, the books, the stash, a chair and more. The Joy and Matchless wheels will once again be in the bedroom and living room, respectively.
Labor Day weekend is the date. I start packing up the loom shit tomorrow. Feh. It's a start.
While packing, I intend to do a full inventory of my sock yarn. Just to frighten myself.
New Cheap Shit
KnitPicks has just sent out an e-mail touting their new Telemark yarn, 100% Peruvian wool, DK weight. Some very nice colors, too. And at $1.99 a 103-yd. ball, I don't fucking want to hear the Knitdweebs ever whine again that they can't afford decent fiber. That is so old it has ear hair.
There's a rather nice ski sweater pattern, albeit easy, that might appeal to those knitters who don't feel ready for Dale sweaters.
I do wish the color line was a bit more expansive, though. As far as I'm concerned, I'll stick with Dale patterns and yarns but I have a feeling that once I tell Mammy about this, she'll be ordering.
Thanks to all for your anny wishes. I daresay that I'll be doing this for a long time to come. For some reason, I always do have something to say. And that on three blogs, too, although I won't be posting to The Wedding Ring Chronicles until I have something more done on the swatch, which might even happen this weekend. As far as Swing Time is concerned, I try to write on that when I can.
Putting up photos is the most time-consuming task of blogging, for me. At least I don't need to post pictures of myself in manic mode when writing Swing Time. Being manic can be rare and handy but only if you stay up for 48 hours straight and design four garments. Otherwise, it's a bit much.