Tilt-a-whirl

I have been knitting!

Well, it doesn't count for much. It is not like the way that I USED to knit, with my shoulders up there for earrings, rocketing through a hand knitted sweater a week (yes, I truly did create a one-off garment in about 40 hours). This time, the knitting began because I wanted to get my hands on the Baby Alpaca Sport, for ME. You know that I have a really big library of books that I have collected since the early '80s, when the Brits led the charge with needles held high. I was SO inspired back then. I would pour through these magnificent picture books, just devouring color and visuals just before bed. This would allow me to dream in color and have my prayers of inspiration answered in the morning, when I would gather together some new handspun yarn and some other bits and bobs from the bags and bags of precious little balls of LEFT OVER handspun yarn. It was in my Dent in the Couch that I would create my pieces, only in the daylight hours because light was my friend, there in the world of a painter with fiber. Painters need their north light in the garrets and I needed my diffused southern light to show me the way.

Times changed and I needed to make enough money to help with college tuition. The muse showed me that I could teach myself to dye cotton yarn in a manner that echoed my dyed-in-the-wool handspun, allowing me to have some sort of integrity as an artist. The knitting machine became my TOOL and it seemed that I only knitted by hand when I finished off cuffs and necklines. For the Love of Pete, this was not my kind of knitting. It did, however, pay those bills.

I finally said ENOUGH one day and gave my knitting machines to a friend (Hi Trish! I miss you!), which was the only way that I knew that I could stop myself from making the proverbial Just One More for this person or that person who had been collecting and yatta yatta yatta. When the machines went, so did the need to pound my creativity into the ground.

I started to design and knit one of a kind garments again, that and take yarn to shows again. It was not a smart idea, money-wise, to get back to hand knitting, but for my soul it was an elixer. People began seeking me out at shows, paying no attention to the garments, focusing on the little baskets of yarn everywhere. Ok. I see. I started to put my precious handspun up on the walls of the booth and watched it fly out of there. Alright...people are knitting again, I see it.

I began giving over more and more of the booth to my yarns and because I was doing so much dyeing and spinning, there was less and less time (or sense) in spending 40 hours knitting a $500 sweater. You see where this is going, yes?

9/11 hit. It was all that I could do to seek out my most precious handmade needles and my most precious handspun yarn, to soothe myself. It kept me centered. Little did I know that I was part of an invisible web that attached me to so many people across the country. We heard no planes in the air and we held yarn and needles. I was telling a friend about the leap of faith I took to show up in Santa Monica that November, to set up a little booth at the Contemporary Crafts Market. I had one grid wall set up with yarn (a fraction of what things look like now.) and by the end of the weekend that wall was pretty much cleaned out. I was shocked to meet a woman from Manhattan who told me that her world and that of others, there on that island was all about comfort food and drink and...knitting. She took two bags, big bags of yarn home with her that weekend. She obviously made quite an impression on me and I knew that knitting was going to help things keep going.

From that time on, more and more people came to me for yarn and not sweaters. They were knitting for themselves. Ok. I hear you. Now the young caught this bug and claimed it for themselves as their grandmothers had, knitting socks. It was a phenomenon and I strapped in for the ride. I just didn't knit anymore because I guess that I didn't NEED to or didn't find the time to or something. Perhaps it was because EVERYONE and her sister was knitting and it wasn't my secret anymore. (I always was contrary like that.) I have been spinning and dyeing for 25 years or so and the spinning took the place of solace in my very very very hectic life.

On Sunday, after having relieved myself of the stock, I decided that it would be a VERY good thing to pick up my lovely needles and see what the Baby Alpaca Sport had to say to me. I dragged out a simple lace pattern that is a fairly simple 10 stitch and 8 row repeat (Willow Stitch), fired 33 stitches on the size 10 needles (they are "normal" for me) and sat with the mantra of yarn-overs and slip one, knit two together, pass over beginning in my head. It was soothing.

There have been a lot of angry voices and angry deeds swirling around the world lately and just when I think that I can't stop gnashing my teeth, I remember that this is what knitting does for me. It takes me away from this time like nothing else. I can spin and listen to TV and hold a conversation but if I want some time just for me, it is with my needles and some fabulous yarn. This time it was with my new yarn...not hand spun but dreamy.

As Ty Pennington says to the families he rescues, Welcome home, Lisa Souza, Welcome Home.

Who I Used To Be...

These days, most of you know me through the blog and through my fiber and yarn shown at Stitches events. That's cool because these things have been keeping the lights on around here. I got a LITTLE nostalgic yesterday.

We dropped the 22 boxes of STUFF off with the nice Amtrak fellows, hoofed it over to IKEA to meet up with The Daughter and The Scnickle for a nice long walk through the maze. He is nearing the magical 3 and is learning that it is a GOOD thing to walk in a place like Ikea, simply because then, if you are careful and don't put your feet on the furniture, you may sit in the chairs that Grammy is testing. Big Stuff...learning stuff. He passed with flying colors. Sure, there was a little bit of whining right near the END but this is a long long walk and by that time I am always ready to have a nosh. We headed over to Jack in the Crack for some lunch and The Scnickle got yet another lesson, one about how other kids act if their parents don't care enough to teach them to be respectful of where they are sitting or how it is NOT ok for them to stand on the COUNTER. We were horrified, to be sure, and he looked at the little girl who was practically climbing over the booth around Grampy, probably thinking that the girl had lost her mind. Must have been the Kid Crack (soda)...he drinks milk.

We parted ways at that point and headed back to Sacramento for The American Arts Festival at the Convention Center. The entrance price was steep at $8 but we came with our ads from the paper and saved a couple of bucks. It was a lot of fun to go in as a Civilian. You see, I used to be a part of this whole way of life...the Juried Art Show. OY. When you get juried in it is as though someone has given you a gift, the privilege of spending an inordinate amount of money to be a part of The Show. If you don't get in, there is a hole in your schedule and a lot of whining and worrying. What do I miss? The People, The Artists. We would struggle and worry together. We would covet one another's work and swap treasures that we could never afford otherwise. I came home with a treasure from my pal Robin Senour . I have been collecting and wearing her pins forever and now I have something for a wall! Thank you, Robin.

We visited with a potter friend from Oregon, Gill Harrison. I have been eating my pasta from his bowls for years and it was time to add a couple more to the stack in the cupboard.

Our friends Glenn & Sue Dizon were a complete pleasure to hug and hug. See? This is what I miss. I don't miss the angst of it all but I am so glad that I got to get a bit of the best of it, yesterday...my old pals.

Speaking of pals, here is a gratuitous Schnickle Pic. He is a total hambone who ate an ENORMOUS breakfast at the Waffle House this morning. This little being (yes, I can play the xylephone on his ribs) ate more than his Mama! Now there is Gas in the Car and energy to burn.

Time to PLAY.

It Is That Time of Year Again!

We spent the day today, he and I, turning the showroom into a place with a nekkid yarn display. 22 boxes of yarn and show stuff are now resting in the Big Ass Van before the ride to the Sacramento Amtrak station in the morning. Baltimore, here we come! Rod finished loading after I took this photo!

We are both looking forward to the whole experience again and hope that those of you CONTEMPLATING the idea of coming to Stitches East will really do it. This is the last year, unfortunately, that Baltimore will be the site for this event and so it is unlikely that we will be able to come east next year, except for Stitches South, which will be in Atlanta next April. I am just looking forward to seeing you all again and remember the initial trip we took, just two years ago. It was a big Leap of Faith for us to say...sure, why not, let's do this and it was simply because we had been to Baltimore as "civilians" the year before, when we joined some internet friends at Maryland Sheep & Wool. It was a thrill to pack ourselves into a little booth and to have the chance to meet so many of you that had bought from us without really knowing us! I'm sorry that Baltimore will be out of the picture because I so look forward to the crab cakes and the wonderful, warm people. I AM looking forward to meeting up with our son, Erik and his bride Vicki there in town. We get to see them so little and so this makes the trip east a double joy!

We are bringing lots of new yarns and exciting new colorways!

Now that the stock is all boxed up, I am beginning the Dye to Order time of the year. I will get as much done before we leave and will attack it again when we return. I thank you all for continuing to find what I do to be worthwhile to you, during these hard times. If nothing else, the ups and downs of the days make me MORE creative because that's just what artists do. We do what we do because we must. It was always the mantra of musicians that I worked with, back in the day. They could not ever think about having a Fall Back Job because being a musician was what they were all about.

I am so looking forward to having the time to play with my new toy, the Supercard. There are magnificent shiny locks of fiber that are calling me to color and play and when I start fooling with BATTS, look out...

Someone is in the kitchen making tacos, so I am taking my Margarita and heading over to the house.

Next comes HALLOWEEN! I promise to take lots of pictures of that Scnickle.

Mountain Maples and that roaring noise

He is up there on the roof and has been there for well over an hour. There is a long long long orange cord giving him the power to do this chore and I just know that all around us, people are holding their hands cupped to their ears, saying, "is that a leaf blower in the distance or am I just  hearing things"? This sound has come from way over there and on the other side of that for weeks now but this time it is him up there.

The forest is very very dry now and I can only hope that this winter will bring us the rain that will keep the Ponderosa Pines from succumbing to whatever gets after these trees when there is stress like this. (Perhaps it is like that pouchy stuff that has formed in my midriff since all of this economic and political manure has hit the fan...stress.) The Ponderosa Pine trees have needles of about 6 inches in length and when we have wind these days, they join those itty bitty Douglas Fir needles in great heaps on the ground and in the valleys of the big roof up there. They look like spider legs sticking out of the gutters and this is what everything is all about; keeping the spider legs from clogging up the works, just IN CASE we ever get some rain. He has decided that the idea of installing covers on the gutters really was a good one and I say, Hell yeah, if it keeps your future old man self from climbing up there. Your future old man self will not fall down and break something, dammit. So, his 60 year old self is now climbing down from stage one of the Great Blow. Stage Two is over here. Unfortunately, there is a big ravine out back of this place. Me no likie.

I told you how the Mountain Maple trees decided to turn yesterday. This is the time of year when they literally glow in the moonlight and create the most glorious color everywhere on the road out here. I captured one of them today, around 11:30. It is all about the light. The drive up highway 50 is now all about the shades of red from all of those Chinese Pistache trees and one day, the little one in the pot out there will add its color to a spot laid bare by the construction of this little house. In the meantime, here is one of my Maples. Her sisters and cousins are turning, one by one in a domino effect. For an artist, this is heaven.

Time to head back in to my spinning chair and to finish up yet another bobbin of that un-war-like Camoflage Cashmerino. I dunno, Tom, I just call it what it appears to be. Bloodless Duckhunter? :o) Quack.

I almost took a day off from dyeing today but I have to count a pot of BFL Cwanbewwie because, well, just because. I didn't feel much like doing anything because my face hurt from gnashing my teeth. I know, I need to knock this stuff off and spinning sounds very good, right about now. That, and a nice glass of wine...when the clock strikes Wine-o-clock.

Massaging Trout and other fanciful tidbits...

My dad tried to get me interested in fishing, back when I was a little girl. I remember going to some event with him where there were a jillion fish in a big portable pool. My objective was to put a hook down into this wriggling mass of fish flesh and AVOID snagging one of them. I have the vague memory of having one suicidal trout coming up on the end of my little kid fishing line, destined to be part of dinner. I THINK that my dad was proud or something. Who knows...it was one of those interesting things that he did with me, as a divorced dad.

What REALLY put me off of the idea of fishing was his mistaken idea of what to do with a fish when it came off of the hook. He took me fishing at the Truckee River when I was probably 10 or so and I have this vivid memory of getting freaked out when I had to wrest that yucky hook out of the mouth of that poor trout. Dad said...whack it on that rock! WHAT??? En OH, says I...no way. Sure, we just whack it and put it in the bucket. I immediately turned into a GIRL, much to his chagrine...no Daddy, YOU do it. I was destined to eschew fishing from that moment on.

My buddy Tom gave me hope a few months ago when we were talking about fishing, saying that this was NOT NORMAL and that you don't have to whack a fish and that they just pass away in the air. Well, of COURSE they do.

I was writing about a friend "throwing back" his fish and my pal Vicki tells me...oh nooooooo, we don't throw the fish back...we get our hands wet and massage the fish back into the body of water from whence it came, whether river or lake. Oh, pah-don me, says I. You see, Vick is a fly fisherwoman and she knows that one must be humane with their quarry because the act of fishing is more about Zen than Eats. I can just see her out at the edge of the Yellowstone River in her big rubber pants, having a moment with Mr Trout. This woman writes about killers...you have to love it.

I guess that I have the same feeling about having a choice of where my eggs come from. I had a bunch of hens when the kids were young, there in Lafayette. They clucked around the yard and when there was a be-GOCK, I knew that a fresh warm egg was to be found in one of the nest boxes. These girls would roam around during the day, eating bugs and grass and went to bed at night in the coop, heads tucked in under their wings. We had ducks, too. I used their eggs for baking and pasta but the mama ducks were a lot more creative in hiding the nest and before long, there were too many ducks. The extra ducks, that year, went to live at the farm of an early organic farmer in Brentwood. They did bug control.

Now, I buy eggs at the Farmer's Market, until the end of the season. I then insist on brown eggs from free range chickens. The eggs really don't cost much more than the white eggs that come from the factory farms. I guess that this is why I am voting for Prop 2. I don't buy eggs at the big box stores because I know how those chickens live out their lives before going to the soup stock. Not necessary for me. People may disagree with me but like massaging your trout, I believe in humane treatment of critters that are part of our diet. I thank Oprah for devoting an hour to this issue. Everyone can vote their conscience.

I woke up this morning and somehow, magically, the Mountain Maples began their transformation overnight. Could it be the full moon? I dunno but I just thrills me when Mother Nature decides to begin The Show.

Silk/Merino Top Mountain Maple.

Quaking Aspen

Cashmerino Top in Camoflage.

Handspun Cashmerino Camoflage.

Yeah, I paint what I see...

I am down to the wire in the preparation time for Stitches East. It is the week where I dye the last stuff and then pack it into those cartons. I am just bringing The Best. I have yet more new colors and will probably photograph them in the morning. I wanted to do some new colorways to compliment Brenda's fabulous (ahead of her time) Statement Scarf called Red Delicious, which takes one skein of El Dorado and one of Fat Bunny. Oh yeah...this is gonna be FUN!

I want to close this with a link to a piece that Dave Stewart (Annie Lenox's old partner) put together in film. I DARE you to have a dry eye by the end. Seriously. This is exactly what I feel and conveys the sentiments from my post about this country. Get ready. I tear up just thinking about it. http://www.myamericanprayer.com/video.html Thank you for doing this, Dave. I am happy to say that my ballot is already in the hands of the registrar. We will be traveling on election day.

Oh yeah...my new favorite colorway. I just got it photographed...Bloojay.

Taking a chill pill

Time for Chris Botti on the old I-Pod so that I can keep the head in a good space today. It is getting kind of NUTTY out there.

We had a lovely time yesterday, Rod and I. It was a big birthday and while I had wanted to give him something REALLY BIG for his birthday, the whole WTF stuff put a big wet blanket on THAT idea. Not to worry. We kept it simple, as we did for my recent candle day. The two of us got into the Hybrid and turned east on highway 50, to enjoy the heck out of a perfect autumn day, going up and over Echo Summit and around Lake Tahoe to the north side. We passed the most magnificent stand of Quaking Aspen (I banked it in my cranium for a colorway) and went on through Carson City Nevada, which looked a bit LESS yucky in the autumn light (not so much of a sagebrush kind of a gal), and on around Reno to our destination...Cabela's.

This is not exactly a City Folk kind of a place and so until I moved up here, it would never occured to me to be interested in going. For example, we passed the big one in Wyoming when we were on our way to Michigan a couple of years ago...had no interest. NOW I have interest, although shooting stuff does NOT enter into my realm. I enjoyed the heck out of the big fish tank, stocked with the trout and salmon and bass that a friend of ours likes to snag and throw back.

Rod found his ideal pair of hiking boots and then was thinking that he was done. I put my hand on his arm and said...dear, we did NOT drive two and a half hours for you to buy a pair of shoes...think again and keep shopping. We lollygagged around there for over 2 hours, having the most fun. Even though I am not a hunter and do not like the idea of trophy hunting, I must say that their displays of creatures rivals the natural history museums and so I just calmed down about the whole thing. Maybe I am going all "country", I dunno...it just felt kind of like part of my new life. We got him stocked up for winter and made the long drive home, knowing that we had enjoyed the field trip for what it was...a long drive on a beautiful day in a car that sips gas. Chicken Noodle Soup and Tuna Melts for dinner...Happy Birthday.

I have a new colorway to show you. When someone said that What-a-Melon was a close as she could get with my yarn to a sock color for her brother's Christmas socks, I knew that I had to do something to rememdy this young woman's dilemna.  I don't want to call them some Christmas-y name and so they will be called Lapland...the place where Reindeer live!

Sock! Merino

Sock! Lapland

Oh, here is something else...Silk/merino Top in another color for Schnickle...Cwanbewwie.

Time to go take some Tylenol so that I don't feel the results of gnashing my teeth. Hang in there, folks. Just remember that a daily dose of FIBER is good for your gut AND your Soul!

Who ME?

So, just before lunch yesterday, I was standing at my dye counter, staring out the windows. I saw a flash of something go by the window and land on a spindly Douglas Fir that is rooted down in the placer mine gully behind the studio. Hmmm, wassat? It looks like something the size of a Grosbeak but THEY have all departed for parts unknown. The head looks different, too. Hmmm...

I thought that as long as the door was open, I could get around the back without too much fuss and perhaps this bird would not fly off right away. Trying to focus...old eyes. Creeping closer...could it be an owl? Ok, it did not fly away so I might as well try to get down closer to it. Still no flight. Closer and closer I walk, hooting softly and talking to this little bird that was no more than 6 inches high.

I walked back to the house and got Rod and we both crept around again...no flight. He comes in here and grabs my camera. Still no big deal. It WAS a big deal to ME. Here I was snapping photos not more than 4 feet from this little being.

Tah dah.

Home and Older and Shaking My Head

It doesn't seem possible that it is already a week since we were breaking down our booth in Canby Oregon's Flock & Fiber Festival! How did that happen, for goodness sake?

First of all, I want to THANK the tireless volunteers who worked so hard to make this such a wonderful event for the vendors and attendees. I am just amazed at how much fun we had in that beautiful valley. I also want to thank my DEAR PNW FRIENDS who made the drive down to hang out, spin and go to dinner at that wonderful Mexican restaurant over there by Freddie's. I know, I wimped out and got a hotel room instead of parking my old bones in a tent but you would not like the tired, cranky, camping Lisa...the hotel room Lisa is MUCH nicer. :o) (kudos to the room at La Quinta in Wilsonville.)

I fell in love with a whole lot of sheep (I know, you DON'T SAY THAT in NZ....dirty, dirty) in the barn. There were a bunch of little Shetland's who are just the funniest and most friendly critters. They love to have their chins scritched, unlike most of the REALLY BIG sheep, who eye you with that wary look. This young guy was trying his BEST to get me to smuggle one or two home in the BAV but I had to return to reality and put my fingers in my ears when he said that if I didn't take this one or that one, they would be dinner. Lalalalalalalaaaaaaaaa. :o)

I DID see Tina of Blue Moon (didn't realize who that happy woman was) come out of the barn with a BIG white angora in her arms...SHE is practically LOCAL, so NO FAIR. Awww, I had lots of Angora's in the olden days and DO miss them, to be sure...silly wabbits.

I succumbed to the parking lot fleece sale, thanks to a teensy push from Rod. He was cracking up when I came back with two big ol' bags. One yummy Finn and a  silver Romney/Targhee cross. I don't let others process the wool because I like to spin from the locks, so they came home as is. The last surprise of the show was when we were starting to close up on Sunday afternoon. A gal came in the booth looking for some yarn, wearing a shirt with something about Border Leicester's on it. Hmmm...I am a big FAN of the long wool, sez I. Oh...she came back with her checkbook and brought me a little bit of a fleece that she had just shorn from a BL lamb. CRACK DEALER!!! Got the whole fleece? Next thing I know, I have a lamb fleece to add to the haul. This one I washed, as soon as I got home and oh boyzee, is it dreamy. I know that I am going to put color to the three pounds but it is always a dilemma when there is a finite amount, ya know...what to do, what to do?

What to DO? Is this a Libra thing, or WHAT? Yeah, the clock struck another number yesterday and I survived! :o) Thank you all for the lovely wishes. We had an early celebration on Thursday because the Schnickle and his mama were heading their separate ways for the weekend. I swear, the sound of that little boy hollering "Happy Birt'day, Grammy" nearly knocked me over with a feather. We set the DVR for the Debate (Tina Fey for VEEP) and headed to a Mexican restaurant for a bit of a celebration. The place was practically empty and I am hoping that it was because everyone that USUALLY clogs the parking lot was home watching the debate. We had the dining room almost to ourselves and so the three Guitaros were there just for our pleasure. Schnickle was so excited to have live music at dinner and wiggled appropriately during the many wonderful, if not slightly out of tune Mexican folk songs. He bravely handed the fellows a tip and a Gracias on our way out. It was just lovely. I got a song and a pink cake (he INSISTED because he and I had picked out the same cake a few months ago) and a hell of a lot of candles. After lots of kisses and a card about Jack Be Nimble burning his ass off jumping my cake, he went to bed. Thank you, Lauren and Schnickle. Rod is next...

Now then, I have been doing some dyeing and dyeing and dyeing since we returned from Oregon. The newsletter came out a couple of days ago and we featured the new and FABULOUS Baby Alpaca Sport that was a big hit at OFFF. I took pictures of what I brought home and have to make up more of what went home with people. The palette will expand day by day. I guarantee that you will LOVE THIS YARN.

Ok, I will just slap up some photos of new fiber colorways. I have been playing!

This first one is BFL Top in Gween, which has a lime base...just for you, Samalamma.

Next is that same colorway in Silk/merino top.

Here is Leaf Pile in BFL, followed by the same in Silk/Merino.

Also, if you like Lapis Lasouli, here is Lapis in both fibers.

Last but not least...Silk/merino in Vera Cruz

We will be bringing lots of pretty fiber to Stitches East, I promise.

Be good to each other