All you people coming to visit...

...thank you! It's nice to have new eyes.

Unfortunately, I have had one fight too many with blogger, and so I'm making a big move... to here: Violets and Lilacs.

There are a lot of reasons behind this move; some of them are explained at the new page, but I'll talk about it a little bit again.

I started this blog to talk about Knitting, with a capital K (like me!). I thought maybe I could be this awesome blogverse star, or something, I don't know. What I found, instead, was a way back into my heart and soul. Which, ya know, yay. :)

But this little blog, while it's wonderful, feels to small for me now, like a snake trying to stretch out of its skin.

So now, to a new home. that is still semi-under construction, so don't mind the banner that has nothing to do with me. I'm working on it.

Hope to see you over there.

Wedded Bliss

I've been promising for awhile to post about the wedding. Even now, a month later, it's very difficult for me to remember the day. I explained it to someone as -- well -- when you're really living life, really truly living it (like the poets and the saints sometimes do), you tend not to remember it very well. My memories of the day are fractured. And stained glass. And perfect. And beautiful.

I woke up around 4am, and thought, I'm getting married today. I felt suffused with light. It was wonderful. Lucy was in bed with me, and she woke up when I did, confused because we weren't in our bed (we spent the night at my mom's with both my bridesmaids). I told her we weren't getting up just yet, so she yanked up my shirt and laid her head down on my belly, and went back to sleep for another hour. It was so peaceful, and such a wonderful way to start our day.

The morning remained fairly calm until we started getting close to "game time." Our friend Adam did our photographs (and if anyone in the Vermont area is looking for event photography, I CANNOT say enough good things about him), and arrived at the house around 8am.

The morning is very fuzzy in my mind. People were fussing with my hair, my makeup, and I was focusing on not morphing into some evil Bridezilla creature. The only real demand I recall making was informing anyone who was getting "emotional" that they could not be in the same room with me; I was having a hard time holding everything together.

I got into my dress at about 10:30am.

I have a very pretty sapphire ring that I call my "fancy engagement ring," but the ring that Robb gave me when he proposed is this garnet set in silver that we got at a local mall store that I adore. It's my real engagement ring. It completely did not match the dress, though. If you look very closely, you can see where we laced it into the corset back of the gown.

The ceremony was at the American Baptist church that Lucy and I have been attending regularly since just before Thanksgiving. It was -- wonderful. I remember very little of it, just the look on Robb's face as our eyes met, the strength in his hands when he took mine, the slight quaver in his voice when he said the words "My wedded wife." I remember thinking that if he broke down during his vows, there was no WAY I'd make it through mine.

If I remember correctly, right after we kissed, he looked at me and whispered "Hello, wife." And I said "Hi, husband."

And so begins our life together.

We did a few photos at the church, and then went down to the waterfront to get pictures on the lake. My entire life, I've seen wedding parties come down to the lake to get pictures; for the first time I was one of those couples. Wondrous.


As we were walking down the boardwalk, we bumped into my pusher fantastic local yarn store owner, Jill. She runs Kaleidoscope Yarns the drug den of choice best yarn store in town. I introduced her to Robb, who looked very bewildered until I explained who she was.


His response? "Hi. I hate you. But at least I know where my paycheck goes now."

It was good times.

The reception is especially blurry in my mind. We tried to talk to everyone, eat a bit of food, dance a bit. When everyone was gone, we gathered our friends together to play a Hold'Em tournament that Robb won in the wee hours of the morning.

It was the most amazing day. It has changed our relationship in ways that are both subtle and profound; we feel the same, and yet so different. It's exceedingly good.

I leave you with three things; the most amazing photo of Lucy I've ever seen:

My favorite "family" photo from the day -- all our local friends, doing what they do best.


Which is to say, being silly.

And then, a final word from my friend Jeremy, and what he read at the wedding:

Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth for the other. Now you will feel no loneliness, for each will be companion to the other. Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you.

**Please note that all photographs are copyright Adam Silverman, 2009. They do not belong to me, and they may not be distributed without his permission. At all. Don't take them off this page without asking, or I will get nasty. :)**

Interruption

this is not your normally scheduled broadcast. There is no knitting here today, no stories about my kid, no wedding pictures. We'll get back to all of that tomorrow.

Today, I wanted to tell you (you, here, being anyone who cares to visit my Little Corner) about this guy who hangs out at the local Starbucks. There's a much better local coffeeshop across the street from SB, but they don't take debit cards, and I never have cash anymore, so unless I'm actually carrying my checkbook, I stop in at Starbucks for my morning mocha.

There's a guy who is there almost every morning. He's old, and the light in his eyes -- he doesn't see quite the same world we all do. I've worked downtown long enough that I know him by sight, though I don't know his name, and I'd be surprised if he knew mine. But every morning when I go into Starbucks, he's sitting in this chair, studying the world. And smiling. I'm fairly sure he has somewhere to live, because he doesn't have that miasma that surrounds those who don't have the facilities to wash regularly, but he's not all there, you know.

And I try to smile back. Whatever's in my head, whatever's going on, I try to smile back. Because I'd like to believe it makes a difference, smiling at strangers. I try to smile at anyone, when I catch their eye. Mostly it freaks them out, and I'm sorry for that. But maybe if I keep doing it -- you know?

Anyway, this guy, I didn't think he thought anything of it. It's not like I thought I was changing his world by smiling, not really. But yesterday, I walked in, and he caught my eye, and we smiled -- and then he said "Thank you. I wait for your smile every morning."

I almost started to cry right on the spot.

Today, as I walked in, he gestured to me, and I walked closer to him, a little concerned to see what would happen next. Again, I've worked downtown a long time, I try to be caring but cautious. He said to me. "They're playing Amazing Grace, can you hear it?" And it took me a moment, because the overhead music was heavily orchestrated, and the melody was buried. But yes, I heard it. He said, "Everyone wants to talk about God, but no one wants to talk about mercy. Why is that?"

I had no answer for him.

So I'm asking for two things, if you've found yourself here today.

Smile at someone you don't know.

And forgive someone who doesn't necessarily deserve it.

Tomorrow, I'll see what I can do about dredging up some actually knitting content and some wedding photos.

It was the perfect day.

Beautiful. Exquisite. Perfect. The wonderful celebration of two lives joining together. 

There will be more, especially as the photos come in, but I just wanted to post quickly and say that there never has been a more wondrous day. 

Don't give up on me just yet.

I've been a busy, busy bee. Making wedding invitations, mailing them, knitting shawls...I should have pictures of the shawls up in the next week or so.

The big news today is that I'm moderately sure that poor Lucy has chicken pox! Much better now than needing the vaccination...but still! Waiting for a call back from the doctor to find out if they want to see her, or if they want me to keep her the hell away.

Don't give up...this space will be filled in ten days or so...

March 28th is just around the corner!

I've been quiet for a long time again...

... sorry about that. 

Planning a wedding is a pain in the butt, you know? And all the decisions that I kept saying "Oh, I'll decide after Christmas..." well, guess what! 

I've only got one more shawl to knit for the wedding, though; B's is done and mine is done, so I just need to finish Melissa's. I finally found a pattern I love that reminds me of her (the beaded shawl in the Holiday VK, I'm took lazy and tired to take pictures) and it's going swimmingly, I think I might need to do extra repeats as the one thing that Melissa will object to is a small shawl, but I have about three times as much yarn as the pattern requires, so we're good there. Extra tube of beads, too. We'll play it by ear. 

I'm ready for a heat wave, here in VT. Some 30 degree weather would suuuuuure be nice, mm-hm. 

But the whole reason I wanted to write this was to say that I woke up this morning to the smells of fresh bread from the bread machine and warm chicken from the broth I am (attempting to) cooking down in the slow cooker. I want to wake up like this every morning. 

Much love to you; I have a crying baby to go and hug. 

The obligatory Wrapping Up The Year post

Sorry that I've been silent since Lucy's birthday; it's been a crazywhirlwindsuperattackholidayseasonwahoo! little bit busy around here.

We survived Christmas with surprisingly little shrieking due to overstimulation. This was especially surprising when we went to Christmas at Dad and Mary Jane's, where there were six children under the age of four enjoying their presents in a (relatively) decorous manner. I mean, given that they are kids, and there was wrapping paper flying in all directions. Lucy made out like a bandit; she got tons of clothes and a few awesome new toys. Best toy? She got a keyboard that she.absolutely.loves. My little brother watched her pound on the keys for a little while -- she's figured out that different keys make different sounds, and will adjust her pounding according to what she wants to hear; she also knows how to make it play her a song so she can dance -- and then commented that he knew of someone else born on her birthday. That would be Beethoven.

Not saying she's a musical genius or anything; just a fun fact.

Looking back on 2008...well, a friend of mine sent me an email on my birthday (number 29, and for the first time, thankyouverymuch) and said pretty much "You've had an awesome year; you must be so proud. Good for you!" and it really made me take stock of everything that's gone on in the past 13 months.

What I said to my friend, I will say now to you. I really felt the solstice this year. I swear, I knew in my bones the moment the sun started to turn around and come back to us. I feel like I have been in a dark night of the soul for -- well, a lot of years, really. Depression hasn't been the right word, not exactly, but whatever it was, it peaked in the weeks and months after Lucy was born, and it didn't really start to lighten up until the past month or so. But that moment, on the solstice -- I felt that one. In my bones.

This is a much more articulate conversation in my brain, so I thank you for bearing with it while I try to sort it out on (digital) paper.

I feel lighter. For the first time in years, I am enthusiastic about the new year. About the potential it holds. About the challenges it brings. About the opportunities and possibilities and the It's A Wonderful Life moments.

There is such darkness in the world. I don't get political or relevant here very often -- this place is my escape, not my platform -- but my heart broke this morning, hearing about the fighting in the Gaza strip. Realizing how lucky I am to live in a part of the world where violence -- well, we have our own problems, don't we, but people aren't dropping rockets on us. That takes me pretty damn far on a daily basis, you know?

I've started feeling this way a few months ago, when I started going to church again regularly. I haven't talked about it, because it's so incredibly personal...and if you have anything mean or even just critical about that decision, you can take it somewhere the hell else for now, thanks kindly...but I'm glad. I'm making the right choices. And I'm very happy about them.

Feel free to remind me of this next year when I (yet again) fire November.

You look like a monkey...

but you smell like a sweet little baby girl.

Today, a little more than a year and an hour ago, a star shone in the east -- well, no, not quite, a snowstorm rose up in the middle of the night, which meant that my stubborn daughter decided it was the perfect time to make a slightly more dramatic than strictly necessary entrance into the world. This has become the modus operandi of one little Miss Lucy Joy.

Someone said to me last weekend, as we celebrated Lucy's birthday, that we had named our girl perfectly. Lucy means "bringer of light," and that is absolutely what she does.

My response? "She's pretty cute. I think we'll keep her."
Which is my trademark New Englander way of saying "My entire life has been reshaped around this tiny bundle of high powered energy, and I'm not sure what I would do if she were not here with me."

I can't believe the pictures I see of the day she was born, where she fit under my chin, and her feet were barely at the bottom of my breasts. Where she looked dwarfed by my (suddenly monstrously large) breasts as she smacked me around to get what she wanted.

I've been very clear with a lot of people over the past year; motherhood is not this golden fog of wonderfulness. Those daydreams you have of curling up with the baby for a gentle snooze completely skip the part where you haven't showered in days, your house is a mess, and you're so exhausted that even when you have the chance, you can't sleep. The part where the baby hates your favorite song; even hearing Glowworm tinkle out "Rockabye Baby" reduces her to hysterical tears. It sounds sweet to hear stories about moms singing themselves hoarse because it's the only way to stop the baby screaming -- until it's you.

There's so much about my girl that is completely inscrutable. I've survived phases and spells and situations which have a cause I can only guess at. There were the two weeks where baths caused screaming so loud I stopped hearing sound and started hearing vibration. The past two weeks, where going to sleep is JUST NOT ALLOWED. The sudden desire to bite my left nipple -- but only the left one.
The complete and total love of music, and dancing, and mama's good cooking (smart move there, kiddo). The way she goes completely still and silent to listen to "Lucy's song," aka that Bach lullaby that's on every kid's mobile ever made. The way she slowly got back to trusting that she was safe in the bath, even though it meant that I once climbed in mostly clothed, because I couldn't conceive of making her wait and cry while I got undressed. Every time I think that I can't survive another second, she snuggles into me, or gives me this sweet, desperate look that says that I am her world, and she trusts me, and she knows I can help.

And yet, there's this way she has. She's growing up already, and I'm so proud of her. She crawls away from me all the time, goes around a corner, and then panics because she can't see me. Puts herself to sleep, then wakes up in a tizzy because we're gone. Falls asleep as soon as we walk back into her room.

She's precious. I adore her.
I think we'll keep her.

Is it Friday yet?

Thank goodness.

Work is always nuts at the beginning of the month, and then it gets crazier after a holiday. I should have known that Monday and Tuesday were going to be oy-yoy-yoy. And they were.

I want to say a quick thanks to all the Canadians who've been so carefully explaining all the ins and outs of what's going on with the parliament; our local papers here are reporting everything in a very sensational style (shocking, I know), and I've enjoyed calming down my co-workers.

Finished the Cardigan for Merry, and I will try to set up a photo shoot this weekend, although the sweater came out much closer to 18 mo size than 12, so it's a bit too big for Lucy to be happy about; I may pack it up and call it a Christmas present. It's not like she'll know the difference, so we'll see. Cast on a sweater out of the blue Cashsoft DK that I have, and I'm loving how it's going...I'm thinking of using it as a canvas to learn needle felting or embroidery. We'll see how I feel by the time it's done.

I want to work on my grey aran sweater that I started to replace the sweater that Lucy hates because it's scratchy, but I keep getting distracted by knitting for other people (shocking, I know).

I have nothing else to report. :) There might be pictures on this blog again, someday. Until then...

November: Survived!

Next up, December.

See, it's good for me; the writing this is finally starting to happen again after a five year dry spell (there were lot of reasons there, and we don't talk about them in polite company anymore to protect the innocent, okay, so just trust me that it was HELL and BAD and all things TERRIBLE), and I'm fascinated by the words I'm churning out on a daily basis. I wrote 33K words last month, which is more than I've written in the last THREE YEARS put together. I was talking to my friend J today about the story I'm working on, and how all the modern vampire stories have missed the point, because they are equating being consumed with being loved, and it's not the same, and maybe that's part of what this story is about, and I just love it, darlings, I LOVE it.

I've been knitting, too, almost done the Cardigan for Merry, which was annypurls adaptation of the Cardigan for Arwen from IK a few years back for her little boy; Lucy's version is pink (I know, I think I'm coming down with something), but as I've said a zillion times before, I have time to knit and write or take pictures of my knitting and blog about them, so the first is winning, especially since I've got an almost-12 month old to chase around all the darn time. She's cruising like crazy, and resisting all efforts by the grandparents to "teach" her to walk; try to stand her up, and she will sit down on her butt, hide her hands, and give you the most petulant look; she'll do it in her own time, thank you very much.

I swear, her first sentence will be "Mama, I do it."

Have I mentioned lately that I'm totally in love with this baby girl?

Someone asked me the other day how I felt about motherhood. When I got done laughing, I asked him if he wanted the truth, or the PC version. He asked for the truth. So here it goes.

I hate it. I hate not getting enough sleep, having no time to myself. I hate planning for three people when I just want a cup of coffee. I hate having to get up earlier so I can get me AND someone else ready before I go for work. I hate not being able to eat brownies for dinner because someone else needs a nutritious dinner. I hate being relied on, depended on, and knowing that my saying the word "no," can break someone's world, not because she wants to do whatever it is so badly, but because she is stressed that I look upset with her. I hate that because I let myself be convinced to "sneak out" yesterday, rather than saying good-bye when I knew it would upset her, and then got punished all night long because she was so afraid that I would disappear again.

I hate it, and yet I wouldn't trade it for anything; not all the knitting time in the universe, or all the sea silk in the Handmaiden Vaults.

Just now, I could hear her whimpering a bit in her room; I didn't even have to get all the way into the room before she started to settle down. As soon as she heard my voice, I saw her shoulders relax, heard the tension ease out of her tiny voice.

Being a mom; it's a pain in the ass, but it's as good as it fucking gets. Pardon the profanity, but -- it's just the way it is. :)

November? I'm watching you.

In general, November likes to leave me in a corner, weeping gently. Being a child of divorced parents is particularly painful and frustrating at the holidays, and throwing biological AND adoptive families into the stew is more than enough -- add in a grandbaby, and it's just a headache. One big fat headache. Two years ago, I declared that November was fired. Clearly, the administration did not take my extreme frustration into account. This year, however, not shaping up to be much better.

I'm working on Nanowrimo, and have written 27k words, which is more than I've written in the past three years. While this is tremendously healing, it's also exhausting, and is bringing up a fair amount of emotional stuff that I thought was dealt with. I don't have time to knit, although I did get to hang out with the lovely Alison Hyde at Kaleidoscope last Friday; that was awesome.

I finished the ladybug sweater, I have pictures...one of these days, I'll have four minutes to post them (and deal with the BS necessary to post them on Blogger, sigh).

Until then...still not dead...

It is a blow to one's ego

and one's status as the hippie-crunchie-granola-mom in the family when, despite months of feeding my daughter the best organic, local, healthy foods that I can find, it is becoming painfully clear that, if she could, she would exist on Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and ice cream. Someone please tell me that all children go through this phase? It doesn't help that she's impossibly cute as she begs for scraps. I mean, begs for food. I mean...

I'll tell you more about knitting when I'm not in insane WRITE 50000 WORDS BY 11/30 mode.

I aten't dead

The past few weeks, man. Oy.

She's crawling. EVERYWHERE. Her new favorite game is "What does it sound like when this hits the floor? And what does this taste like? And what does it sound like when it hits the floor? And what does this taste like? And...ow I hit my head MAMAMAMA!!! No, don't hold me, I want to run around! No, don't put me down, I want to be cuddled. No, I want to be held and cuddled AND run around! I HATE BEING A BABY!!!"

I swear, I see it all in her eyes. Especially when we're around her older cousins, all five of whom are walking now. She watches them with this eager, anticipatory look, then chases after them on her hands and knees. Well, this weird feet-and-hands crawl that she's adapted from somewhere, causing the numerous head bonks as her butt is waaaaay up in the air and her face is looking down instead of ahead.

Meanwhile, I have zero time. Seriously, I'm very glad that this is my virtual living room, because my real living room looks like Hurricane Lucy hit it. Oh, wait, it did. Go figure. The center of the living room is covered with sewing stuff, from when I sewed Lucy's Halloween costume (pictures as soon as I download them) and the new blouse for my ren-faire gear (promptly smeared the white sleeve with grease, somehow, thanks VERY much). The coffee table is invisible beneath assorted knitting supplies and my macbook. The kitchen...well, after some work yesterday, the kitchen is relatively clean, because that's where clutter has a chance of turning into bugs and infestation. We don't want that.

Successes, because they're worth mentioning: cooked all weekend; made shepherd's pie and chili. I like cooking in winter much more than in summer. In summer, I could survive on crackers and hot pepper jelly.

The knitting deadlines are starting to pile up; I think Melissa's bridesmaid-shawl is going to have to be put off until after Christmas, because I want to knit a box of food for the kids to have at Grammy & Poppy's house for their play-kitchen. I thought I might sew some big squares of brightly colored silks for their play room too. And some for Lucy as well. A recent scare in regards to her lead levels (they're not properly elevated, just on the borderline; my gut instinct as I've been investigating is that it's an old exposure, and is now resolving itself, but it's still stressful) has me wanting to clean out the whole world, ya know?

I am sitting directly under a florescent light, which is bad for my world. I need to get one of those gooseneck lamps we all had in college and equip it with a full spectrum bulb.

And I'm very, very tired.

But other than that, life is still good here. Expect a picture heavy post sometime this week. :)

Chatty Cathy

That's me, blethering up a storm. Or not. Shoosh. Look that way.

I'm sorry, I started watching Lost, and it is eating my brain...I called a good friend on Monday afternoon, and said "If I go home with Lucy, I'm going to watch another four hours of Lost. It's not that I don't want to watch another four hours of Lost, but I don't think I should."

In exciting news, though, my wedding shawl has started it's tenth and final full repeat. (I'm making this shawl (ravelry link), only with beads in place of the nups) After this last repeat, I still have another half repeat, and then it's knit edging on almost 400 stitches, ugh. And a quick game of "do I have enough beads to add some to the edging?" And then I will be done with two of the three wedding shawls I need to knit.

The DIY aspect of this wedding is starting to ramp up...I'm going to make my cake topper, favors, the bridesmaids' gifts (hence all the shawl knitting)... probably a shrug for Lucy, probably out of left-over zephyr... I want to put together a wedding scrapbook instead of a signature book, so that people get a scrapbook page and they can write things, paste in things, so forth...I think that will be much more awesome than just a list of the people in attendance that I'll never look at...I have to find cake-cutting utensils...win my argument to get married barefoot (why pay for shoes when I'll be trying to sneak out of them asap anyway? I already made mom pay for a tiara...)...

My brain is scattered. :)

Sounds like a good time to rewrite a pattern to fit the gauge I'm getting, don't you think?

October, take two!

Well.

The beginning of this month was kind of a wash.

I don't know if this wretched stomach flu is hitting other areas as hard as it is ours, but with Robb, Lucy, and I, all laid low in rapid succession last week...October needs a do-over.

Just before my near-death-experience, I bought a set of blocking wires -- I actually found that the ones that my LYS sells were cheaper than going to the hardware store and getting good enough wire that it wouldn't rust and discolor the yarn. But then I was too sick to experiment. Sad!

Also, no writing all week. Although I did sit down and churn out 500 words this morning. Hooray!

Other than that...not much to report. Life is good. :)

I got tagged!!!

So, first of all, it was the lovely Karin who did the honors.

The game works like this:

1) Link to the person who tagged you

2) Mention the rules

3) Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about yourself

4) Tag six other bloggers by linking to them

5) Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they’ve been tagged

Random details about me:

1.) I am a high-fiver. I am an avid high fiver. I taught my daughter how to "give five," and her daddy LOVES to get her give him high five. Lucy will also be a high fiver, I can tell, because when you tell her to "give you five," she breaks into this awesome, huge, gigantic grin. It's on video here. I have used the phrase "Don't leave me hangin'," and I have not been ashamed.

2.) I really like finishing work when knitting, but I put it off as long as humanly possible. I have a PILE of things that will be perfect...when they're finished. I have a sweater that has just needed a tiny bit of sewing for SIX YEARS...and I haven't brought myself to finish it yet.

3.) I hate math. I use Robb as my human calculator. As such, he knows random knitting terms like "gauge" and "stitch count."

4.) I really HATE it when people say to me, "Don't you love being a mother?" It's an inane question that I hate answering. What am I going to say, "I hate it?" Stupid. I hate stupid questions.

5.) I hardly ever get tagged for memes, and was so unreasonably excited when I got the note from Karin that she'd tagged me that I might have jumped up and down a bit in my chair.

So, who would like to do this next? I nominate...

um, I'm all shy all of a sudden. I nominate YOU if you want to do this. :)

Despite...

Despite Mercury retrograde...
despite the collapse of the financial markets...
despite the sense of impending doom coming from every corner...
despite the stronger and stronger pushes from various places and worlds begging me to cast free of these anchors and set sail on a sea of uncertainty...
despite a suddenly obvious flare for the dramatic...

I'm having a really good week.

Someone needed to say it, and with all the doom and gloom everywhere on the horizon, I thought I might be the only one.

So, go me!

Confessions

I haven't knitted a stitch this week. Not-a-one. My new Macbook and iPod were retrieved from very friendly UPS staff on Monday, and since then? None at all. I've been playing Spore and updated files and -- most excitingly -- writing.

That's write. Right. Hehe. :) Writing stories. From my braiiiiin. Onto (digital) paper. Stories that could possibly be sold to the highest bidder, traded for food on our table and electricity in our house, and so forth. Can you imagine it? To me, it's almost the highest form of shenanigans -- the highest being acting in all its forms. All the arts, really, though -- "You mean, if I do this thing that keeps me from just losing my mind and going COMPLETELY insane, you're going to pay me for it?"(laugh)"REALLY?"

I'm all blissed out on word fumes.

Has it really been that long?

I'm so sorry! I had no idea I'd skipped out on you guys for such a long time! The outreach lists were huge, the call volumes were ridiculous, the baby was growing...the knitting didn't happen very much anyway. I've gotten 5 pattern repeats done on my wedding shawl. There, you're up to date.

The exciting thing right now is that I'm typing this on my very own brand new Macbook. Ooooo. I know; I know. I'm crazy excited, too. It's beautiful, and it feels like something that should be in a science fiction movie, but it's mine, and I can type on the couch. I'm hoping that writing will start getting in the way of my knitting time, you know?

Here's wishing.

Love to you all, talk to you soon.

Sleeping is for birds.

All last week, I got between 3 and 5 hours of sleep a night, for no real reason except I couldn't be bothered going to bed.

Last night, I actually got some sleep. Today, I can't get out of my own way.

Sheep & Wool festival this weekend; lovely day, lovely pretties, and very impressed with myself for staying inside of the budget Robb and I agreed on. Even more exciting, I found a spot in the living room where my spinning wheel can live and not be in the way, since there's a direct correlation between how much of my spinning wheel I can see, and how often I spin.

I'm impressed with both myself, and the high speed kit for the Kiwi; I'm spinning soft, fine singles, that should make fantastic two ply yarn, maybe DK weight. Pictures when the sun cooperates/I remember.

B, your shawl is done, I just need to block it. Which means I need blocking wires. Which are temporarily out of my price range. (i.e. I spent the money I meant to spend on blocking wires on alpaca fiber. Sorry. :( ) You will love it.

Sleepy. Nothing else to report.