Tilt-a-whirl

I've Got your color, right here...

Yeah yeah, I will try to be nice. Thank you for all of the kind words of encouragement for The Husband...he really appreciates it. You guys are the best.

Now, The Danish Muse sez, Show Me The Color. Ok, you showed me spiders dragging dentists around, here is yesterday's fiber stuff. That is the Hot Stuff Earth Birth in both merino and Wensleydale, to fill the coffers again.

Now, because the Wensleydale is so reflective and the digital camera has a hard time registering the deep blue/greens, this Deep Sea is reading a little light. It has a great deal of depth of color, so Cassandra, this is your stuff.

I must feed the artist and go out to do some yarn runs. Talk amongst yourselves.

Distraction or a reason to throw it into overdrive?

So, when last you met the heroine, she was whining about spending an entire morning cranking the dial of her I-Pod, to cover the sound of the jack-hammer grinding down a tooth. Puh-leeeeeze...people do this on PURPOSE, just to have a dazzling smile. Yeah, and as a 20 something, I wanted to alter the profile that my mother and all of those French ancestors gave me and I didn't do THAT either.

I got to work here yesterday, even though the shock to the system made me feel like I was running under water. I was determinded that the cold rainy weather was not going to keep me from creativity and color, and so it didn't. I got several loads of fiber dyed and today will be all about trying to DRY said fiber in this 100% humidity goofy June weather. I put up the doggie barrier on the porch (they could knock it down so easily but for some reason, they respect the space) and opened the door between the house and the dye room, letting them be a part of my afternoon. Tank, of course, went exploring and found a way to come out of a distant corner of The Husband's half of the space with a veil of spider web on his chocolate heddddd. Silly puppy. It was New Releases Thursday on kfog
and so I was bouncing along with the likes of Rober Cray. Wonderful. Then it happened...

A phone call from The Husband. The Crossroads are coming and he is now feeling the pain of other people that have reached a certain age and are considered too expensive for a company. He worked for one big corporation for over 30 years and was "outsourced" to a Second Corporation which took on the work that was done by The Husband and other people of his ilk. Fine. The Husband was sitting in the same building belonging to Corporation Number One, sitting in his old chair and at his old desk doing the same work but receiving a paycheck and logo shirt from Corporation Number Two. Sweet. No problem. NOW, Corporation Number ONE has decided that they want to save money (the reason that they outsourced in the first place) and fold this work back into Corporation Number One and so Corporation Number Two is losing the contract to do said work. Following me? Now, the rumors have been that The Husband would be "safe" and asked to return to Corporation Number One as an employee once again. Ok, sez he, sure, why not. Now, he finds out that the HR department of Corporation Number One wants to bring him back to do THE SAME JOB at a $30K reduction in salary. Yes, are you catching that? I nearly passed out yesterday, thinking bad thoughts about delayed dreams going out the window, etc. We started talking last night and I got mighty mighty upset and quiet and then, I just got MAD. Hell NO! No way is he going back to a job for a company that would dis him like that. Can you imagine? If it were me, I would never be able to get up in the morning, to drag myself down the freeway and through the gates of Corporation Number One. This morning, after a good night's sleep, I realized that it might be a very GOOD thing for this to happen and that we would have a lot more fun working together, slinging yarn full time. I told him that in NO WAY was he to even consider that taking the job was on the table at that salary. If he is not invited back to Corporation Number One with his current salary and benefits then he can come work with me for NO salary and NO benefits other than happiness.

The lessons are these, to those of you that are the age of my kids...fund your 401K. Keep doing it. The Daughter has had so many jobs since joining the work force and has seen lay-off after lay-off, giving her a different perspective of the world of work. The Husband has worked for the same corporation his whole adult life, whether being an employee of Corporation Number One or Two...same work. Now he is faced with the world of being 50 something and looking at a second career. At first, I was scared. Now, I am excited. We will pay the mortgage and we will be happier.

Fun with drills

WEll, NOT fun, actually. I have a lovely young dentist that we have been seeing for a couple of years now and man, can he get a lot of stuff done in a morning. I took the I-Pod and my beating heart and scowled into the office, ready for my torture at 8 am. (I actually think that I have been doing more damage to my OTHER teeth by gnashing them at night, dreaming of being in The Chair.) I was just super happy to see the beloved dental assistant with the light touch back from her medical leave...this woman is an angel. The dentist figured that as long as I had a crack in a molar, he might as well cover it and then replace all of my amalgams in the other teeth up there...oh yeah, he was drilling for Uzbekistan in there...actually, it was on the top, so he was going for grey matter. I am a big believer in drugs for these purposes and so he had that needle out on a regular basis. (the Angel told me that my fearful heart was pumping the stuff right out of the area in record time, hence the refills. Oy) 2 hours and 35 minutes later, I was stumbling out of the office, trying to pull my face back into its normal position, whatever that is. It's like childbirth...oh yeah, a piece O cake.

Now, I need to shake this stuff off and go sling some yarn. No rest for the Fancy Toothed.

The calm before the uh ohhhhhh

I mean, really. I have been feeling kind of out of it for a couple of days, probably from sleeping in an air conditioned room in LA and blabbing my lips off to people. You know, regardless of what I think...I am not getting any younger. I had to scrape it together today so that The Husband, bless him, could haul Basia's Big Box O Yarn to You-puss for me this morning. (he works very close to the place and so it is not as bad as you think...) The dogs were especially rambunctious this morning and so there was a lot of HEY! Knock it OFF hollered before breakfast. Yowza. My aching sinuses.

I had some calm time and shot a picture of a plant that has lost its mind, since The Husband installed the lovely garden arch. It must be something about the white that has made this plant (some kind of salvia...I can't remember which) become the Incredible Hulk!

We had to whack the trumpet Vine back to its knees to put this structure in because it was pushing the old arch out of shape. You can notice that the Trumpet Vine, on the right of the arch, seems to be feeling no pain...

Our son-in law is an attorney...what more can I say. HE thinks that we are Hippies! No, not quite, buster. Of course, The Husband wanted to freak the SIL our and grew a Hippie plant (no, not THAT Hippie plant, sheesh) in his honor. (he likes to be right...) So, The Husband got an avocado pit, a few toothpicks and a glass and proceeded to grow this thing. He has babied it along and although it recently was transplanted and looked kind of dead for awhile, it IS about 6 feet tall. Tank just loves to crunch on shed leaves.
Mama's little Chocolate Heddddddd. (that's what happens when Chocolate Labs throw black, I guess...his head is like bitter chocolate.)

Ok, no more fooling around. I told my pals at Fibertraditions that I needed to get busy and start something on the wheel because the Fiber Crack might show up today or tomorrow. Ummm...here comes the guy in the little Fed-Ex truck. Uh-ohhhhhhhh...Yup, this Crack dealer goes first class. I don't know what came over me when I got this box into my hands but here it is, ready to be opened. Tank is trying to sniff out the ingredients.

There isn't much to smell! The baby alpaca saddles just smell clean, even in this raw state. Are you ready? Here is what came out of the box.
Black, Really Black, Black, Dark Chocolate, Brown and Shades of Grey. I am a wealthy, greedy spinner, no? Yes. I wish that you could reach in through the screen, ala Mary Poppins and touch this stuff. It is magnificent. Lin, of Lassen View Alpacas is a genius at finding the finest haired creatures to hang around with. I am in Roll Around In It Heaven.

Evidence of the disappearance

Ok, I really AM back home and of course, with all of the order filling and correspondence, here at 11:49 AM Pacific time, I have not gotten out of my Good Robe (the one that The Daughter dragged back from her honeymoon from that chichi Agave Resort) yet. I know, for Pete's sake, woman. I did manage to dodge the eye of the poor you-puss driver...the poor man deserves to have a nice day and not THIS vision of lovliness. :oD

Alright, did I promise you picture proof of where I was this weekend when you were so rudely ignored? I rounded up the Olympus and the cord and here we are. You can see The Long Suffering Husband working diligently on HIS part of the set-up...the grid system. It really does take forever to do this, even though we are quite the team and are getting faster. Here is a shot of what needs to go INTO that wall.
I KNOW! Where would we craftspeople BE without Target and the stuff we need to store and display our stuff. Nowhere, baby. Mind you, the entire process of unloading the BAV, going to pee a million times, yacking with friends, and then finally zipping this thing up took 5 hours. Yes, 5 freakin' hours.
The little green number in the front found her mistress this weekend, as did the big green jacket in the back. They were happy and so was I.

Oh yes, and you know that I forgot Rose's flyer at home, so there was no spinning. No, I did not even bring her to the show because what they don't see in a disfunctional state, they don't miss. So, I started to pace...not good. I cracked open a skein of cashmere and did this at a quiet moment, thinking that if I set it on the desk thingie, I will casually wind this little thing up quickly and get into the needles and go. Ummm, it is like breaking out a sandwich at a show...as soon as that wad of something is in the mouth, here they all come. They sense it, I just know it. They heard the scissors cut the yarn and in they came...it took us all day to detangle the darned skein, once The Husband had to move it a few times to make way for (gasp) sales. Ok, here is the proof that I can knit on size 7, seed stitch, no less. I would never do it HERE, but there, with no wheel, it seemed appealing. Plus, it sold a lot of that stupid cashmere. Brilllllllllliant move...forget the flyer...

On the homefront, I give you a picture of a conflicted cat. Sadie is REALLY REALLY glad that I am home. She has not stopped talking to me but she is just as sad that something else has come home as well...yes, the Tankinator and his big enabler (not MEEEEE, Sasha.). He started terrorizing the cats (you know, chasing them around) as soon as their paws hit the floor, poor things. Sadie needs to remember to flash a claw and he will do an about face.

Alright, you are mostly caught up.

Home Again

Oh my goodness...what a weekend. I will find a couple of pictures of the booth, both in the building stage and in completion, when I fish the camera out of the packed stuff. Unfortunately, we got so excited when the imaginary Go Home bell rang that I forgot to take a picture of the "aftermath". Let's just say that lots and lots of empty bins came home stacked inside one another and The Husband teased me about messing up his packing of the BAV, simply because he could see out the back window for a change. (the better to watch for the Highway Patrol as he roared up the middle of California, home to the Bay Area.)

We had an adventure, I must say. It takes about 5 hours to drive to LA from here and believe it or not, with all of the futzing and stocking, it took another 5 hours to get the booth the way that I like it. That makes for a long day, believe me. We decided to take the advice of a colleague and change our hotel arrangements and decided to stay at a Travelodge in Santa Monica. Sez she...oh, it is really nice, has a kitchen and is right next to Trader Joe's . Well, the latter was correct but the nice part was not. Oh my...the bed was as hard as a rock AND get this, the mattress kept making this awful noise every time we moved in bed, which woke me up, over and over. I finally reached under the sheet and felt that there was a PLASTIC mattress cover! That was it, I willed myself to lie as still as possible on this incredibly UNCOMFORTABLE bed, formulating a way that I could get out of this terrible hotel room and back into the place that we usually stay, no matter the cost, which was substantially more than we usually pay, simply because I could not get the show discount. Let me tell you, it was SO worth it. Oh yes, and while we were in this horrible room, I realized that I left the FLYER for my Rose in a basket at HOME...no spinning at the show. Oh nooooooo.... I was so worried that this was a bad omen but like the hotel, I decided to make the best of it and ended up being so busy anyway, that spinning was not going to be that much of an option anyway. How do you like that? Yeah, I DID crack open a little skein of my Aura cashmere, the yarn that has not been enticing people in its skein form, for some reason. I knitted away on the yarn and sold skein after skein after people saw the way the yarn became a lovely soft material. Too funny...I was meant to forget my flyer and tell on myself.

Kerry asked for the rundown of what went at the show. Well, there was all of my roving, especially the new painted stuff, you know, Sky Drama and Earth Birth in both the Wensleydale and Merino. It went to spinners and felters, which was really fun and also having it there was good for educating the newbies about how certain handspun was created. (all this without my wheel...blush) The Border Leicester/Tencel went home with one of two sisters that bought huge armloads of yarn and they loved the story of how The Husband got the fleeces home from MS&W. Yarn went to people who saved for it and to people to give as gifts and to people who raced each other to the booth. (NO LIE) I am always bowled over and surprised, really. I have been doing this show stuff for over 20 years and I guess that like a Depression Baby, I remember the struggle years and so will never take the good fortune for granted.

Here is a really amazing thing. A knitwear designer that I have been doing shows with for YEARS, Basia Kaminsky paid me the ultimate compliment and asked to use my yarns in some of her designs. Yeah, a real eye opening moment, which was followed by another designer following suit, of course going for completely different and more wild yarns for her pieces. Yeah, I know, a real slap upside the head. Let's just say that I am going to be mighty mighty busy preparing for all that is coming and need to make a lot of yarn and fiber appear in my bins before the FiberArts Market next month. Wowza.

Even though there were jutting lower lips over the demise of the machine knitted cotton sweaters, I was grateful to see all but two of the adult garments find the perfect arms to jump into and many of the kids things dove into purple bags as well. We had lovely customers that "got" the energy behind a couple of the handknits and so I just felt happy all the way around. A big thank you to those of you who know who you are. MWAH!

The painted fiber thing...

Ok, so you know that merino that I was spinning the night before last? The Sky Drama top that I tore up in chunks instead of strips? So I finished spinning it (long color changes) and decided that since the rest of that dye run just got sold (no complaining, believe me) I would do a self-ply, you know wind it into a ball and ply from the inside and outside. Because of the way that I dye it, this is how it turns out.
Oh yeah, I love it.

Yesterday afternoon was the last of the dye days before packing for Santa Monica and so here are the newest colors in the arsenal. It is really funny to me how this technique is sort of re-engineering to me. All of my hand painted colorways have come from me and the serendipity of the pot, trying to find a way to interpret what people love about the handspun colors into the hand painted yarns. This is the other way around, painting the yarns first and THEN doing the fiber. I really like what happened in the plied merino because it still looks wonderful and the color shifts are still subtle. Whew. So, anyway, here is the Earth Birth colorway in both merino and Wensleydale. See the difference in the reflective structure of the different wool types? The merino, being a fine wool will be more subtle and mat, while the Wensleydale Longwool almost shimmers and looks so much richer.
Merino

Wensleydale

We have light rain here in the SF Bay Area today. I hope that it just does its thing this morning and early afternoon and then gets the rock out of here so that I can pack the BAV without adding the moisture of sprinkled bins into the packing. Ugh. The Husband is the Master of Space and I just drag things out to the Master and HE packs the BAV. He can probably pack twice into the space that I would take up...some people think that it is all of those hours of Tetrus...I don't DO Tetrus, is that my problem? (He has been packing things well for a looooooooong time.) I just pray that Santa Monica has nothing more than the typical June Gloom because in November it rained and yours truly had a much sought after spot at the front of the big tent, which in good weather is FAAAAAAAAAbulous, in rainy weather, it SUCKS. I pray for cool and non-rain. I want to get the most bang for my HUGE buck that I paid for this space, for crying out loud! Once again, if you are in LA, you can print a freebie ticket off of the promoter's website. Simply click on one of the postcard images at the top of the page and you can make it happen.

It will be fun to bring you along on a craft fair weekend. Stay tuned.

Pot Belly Pig

Ummm, those of you with dogs have probably heard of the Lab's remarkable love affair with food. I just thought that my little guy, who is not that little anymore, was hungry because he is growing.
He had the svelte look of a puppy with good conditioning, you know, with the nipped in sides and the feel of the rib cage under his lavish (room to grow) skin. So, here is the story...

I had to run errands yesterday morning, which included a stop at Pet Food Express, one of the two pet stores in town. We started feeding his majesty this high end puppy food because he was starting to show signs of dandruff that was turning out to be a corn allergy. Ok, fine. I had seen this with Sasha/AKA The Wildebeest, or Wilda for short and thought, ok...I am not feeding children at home, I can turn into one of those people who takes good care of their pets food...lots of lamb and veggies and brown rice, you know the stuff...not a Mad Cow disease morsel in the bunch. Fine. I finish the errands, which include a trip in to Orinda to top off my mom's supplies for the time that I am away and drag my stuff back home in the BAV. The bag of dogfood is in a fancy GIGANTIC 35 pound sturdy bag that takes me my kitchen shears to get into . I flopped that thing on the floor in front of the "dog cabinet" (when we redid the kitchen, the pantry got separate areas for Dog Food and Cat Food and believe me, the dogs know which one belongs to them...) The morning progressed and I probably got sidelined when putting the mail out, which often happens...oh, this needs water and oh, let me pick this weed and Oh, should I mulch this before the weather turns hot... Stuff like that. Do you see where this is going? Do you? Are you like a boisterous audience at a B-grade horror movie, shouting...I know what is going to happen, get in there, girrrrlllllllll! Yeah, well shut up. I am just that dumb. I never saw it coming, not even in the back of my mind. I go merrily into the house and there he is, wiggling his whole body, looking guilty as hell. Don't worry, SHE who thought that this new food was so-so (to my face) was nearby, egging him on. Yeah, can you see it? A bag with a hole the size of that head up there with who knows how much purloined from it, sat in the same position I left it in...wounded. Oh lord. I try to muscle this wounded thing into position to pour some of its contents into the covered tub that is the storage for about half of this thing. See what is coming? There is some spillage...two dogs become a blur of black lip smacking theives, dogs that have been starved into mere waif condition and sucking up the spoils from the floor. STOP! sez I. I push and cajole and cover and close and all is well. No problem, just a little inpromptu snacking. Fast forward to dinner time. These two innocent creatures have been going about life in a normal manner but something has happened to Tank. He looks different...he has the distinct shape of a POT BELLY PIG. Oh no! He must have eaten WAY more than I thought and now that he has had water all day, that kibble has doubled in size (did he turn down dinner? No way!) It was looking at something volatile...a ripe watermelon. Just the feeling of dread was creeping in. Look at that puppy! He looks like he is going to explode. Uh Huh. Do you remember the movie called Stand By Me? where one of the kids is telling the story about Lard Ass and the Pie Eating Contest. Yeah, you know the scene where there is this noise that comes from the bowels of the earth, a rumbling and thennnnn projectile vomiting of blueberries everywhere? Ok, got that picture? Now, think dog food...rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRalph! (Helle, that is slang for vomit) Not once in a puddle 6 inches by 12 inches but TWICE! Yeah! No more pot belly pig! Boy, was he embarrassed and worried. He probably thought that this was tantamount to pooping on the rug and so there was no consoling him. All that I can say is...THANK DOG FOR NATURE'S MIRACLE, the enzyme cleaner. Like that story? Ready for more?

So, last night, I am doing my usual sleepless burst into flames/freezing repertoire until Sasha roars into the kitchen, alerting me to an invasion, either of the deck (Dambi) or kitchen by a cat OR Rocky Raccoon. I opt for number two from last night because she lost some fur in the battle. Good dog, follow me back to bed. Again a little while later. Persistent critter using the cat flap! (distubance number three was The Husband's turn to deal with...The Pot Belly pig purging the last of his booty...digested booty...oh, nevermind). We settle in and try to get some rest. Just before dawn the din begins again. I throw myself out of bed and follow her in to the kitchen, never seeing the culpret but find more of her hair on the floor and also a peach on the floor...no self respecting cat is going to risk three dog maulings for a freakin' peach! There you have it. Can you understand why The Husband and I were snapping at one another this morning? Yes, amazing but true...

Here are my friends.

Oh, sure, NOW they sleep.

Show week countdown and fiber crack

You know that it is a Monday when a carefully crafted post goes away with an errant keystroke. GUH! As I was saying...
The morning started off with the Tankinator barking and barking at the corner of Sasha's Big Dog elevated feeder in the kitchen. He wouldn't let up and I told The Husband that there must be something under there for him to be making that "barking at someone" noise. It was someone alright...a poor little mouse had been escorted in by the No Outside Food rule defying Sugar Pie and had eluded her grasp before The Thundering Herd entered the kitchen for the morning rituals. I was wondering why Sugar Pie was carrying on in here...she usually does not say much unless you are giving her Shiatsu. :o) Now of course, there is no way to either SAVE the mouse or bring the Mouse Trap IN because the TH is in full form, bugging said mouse. For crying out loud! Ok, it is time for me to spring into action. I give the dogs the command (yeah, right) to go "inside" which means that they are going to be closed into our bedroom. They follow me as far as the living room, sit down and stare at me as I command them Inside. Nope. Nothing. I go over to them and get The T-man by the collar and haul his little butt in there. Now, do you remember me telling you that Sasha weighs 130 pounds? She lies down in that "make me" way she has sometimes. The Husband thinks that if we try to Make Her, she will bite...ummm, no. I go over to the front door and grab the leash that is hanging there and clip her collar. I really don't know if she gives in or merely thinks that I am taking her for a walk...no matter, her large patoot is shoved into the bedroom, just in time for a puppy head to try shooting out. (is this like scooping up mercury or what?) Now, for the mouse. Sugar Pie will not take it outside and so I get a big towel and escort the poor little thing out to the edge of the Pampas Grass...Catch and Release...FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

Is this going to be the start of the week that I have engineered to be a "less stressful" build-up to travel/set-up day. I don't know but let's just say that there is the sound of Arr ARr ARr Arr Arr rruff ruff snap bark, accompanied with the bumping and hot breath of these two big knuckleheads wrestling under my desk and around the back of my chair. Tug o' war. They will miss me, yes they will...

My yarn is tagged and sorted and ready. I think that I should put my focus into finishing a sweater so that I have something new to show...hmmm, that would be nice. June gloom aside, Santa Monica is not exactly a wool town so I don't expect this piece to go home with someone but I need to exhibit the discipline that says, sit in the dent in the couch and finish the darned thing! Step AWAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY from the wheel. But the wheel has something INTERESTING started...

I spun up all of the Wensleydale top that I painted in that Sky Drama colorway and last night, while watching The Tony Awards (yes, I did, I admit it) I got into the (just to see...only 4 ounces at a time) merino top of the same colorway. With the Wensleydale, I tore the roving lengthwise, into pencil roving size, keeping the color changes in the rhythm and length that they were dyed in. With the merino, I have torn the roving pretty much at each perceptable color change, which makes for LONG changes. I do plan to ply this stuff and may see if I want to be worrying about color lining up in the ply, OR stagger the color in the second ply for a more interesting color play. See why I have a hard time sitting in the dent in the couch? This is funnnnnnnnnn!

Ok, this stuff that I dyed is not really Fiber Crack, well, not to ME, since I am the one that is the pusher of this particular drug of choice. MY Connection contacted me yesterday, whispering into my ear like the sssssssssssssnake in Eden... Lissssssssssaaaaaaaaaaa, I have baby alpacaaaaaaa to die forrrrrrr. I know this crack dealer and she is not kidding when she says these things. Black baby alpaca of the finest quality and then she is super slick, telling me about this fleece of deep grey with the hand of Royal Baby alpaca...who needs drugs? I just need Lin Murray who is raising the most gorgeous alpacas up at the northern end of the Central Valley to share some of her bounty with me now and again. I am lucky to have met her mama many years ago at a craft show in Sacramento (nice show, no patrons). She sidles up in that mother of a crack dealer way...pssst, want alpaca? Ummm, I dunno...maybe. Well, my DAUGHTER is just getting into alpaca and she might hook you up. Uh oh. I would say that I should make a trip up there to meet Lin in person one of these days but I would probably be like my buddy Vicki and try to think of a way to seatbelt a critter into the Passat. CRACK DEEEEEEEEEEEALERRRRRRRR. Better for me to keep that business at arms length...just send me the box, sister and I will cough up my pile o' money. :o)

Cinderella Man

Oh my stars and garters...I feel like I have been through a boxing match! I was bobbing and weaving and cheering and crying and gasping and and and...Ron Howard's Cinderella Man is fantastic. Once again, Russel Crowe is a chameleon...he BECAME James Braddock, morphing his familiar features ever so slightly until you did not recognize Cameron Crowe anymore. It was like seeing a movie star at the grocery store , thinking... Nah! or hmmm, that guy looks familiar...where do I know him from. The two dimensional into the three. No makeup tricks, just a consumate actor. The fight scenes were scary as hell, diving in and out of Braddock's body and soul. A masterwork. I give the art direction and costuming and everything that makes a good movie into a classic film a deep bow.

There you have it. No knitting or spinning content, just a rave review for a fine fine F I L M.