Sit and Spin Archives : Fluid Pudding

But like a big red rose that’s made of paper, there isn’t any sweetness in your heart!

You know how it is. You go to Stitches Midwest and you squeeze a bunch of fiber and you rub a bunch of yarn on your neck and you eat a bunch of curry (and cheesecake) and then you spend the next few months thinking of nothing but spinning and knitting and curry (and cheesecake).

Tempe, my mom, and I have now made six summer yarn trips. (If you’re interested, a summary of my yearly purchases can be found here! You love that sort of thing, right?! Right-o!) Because two people asked, I shall now share what I loved (and purchased) this year.

This is Greenwood Fiberworks Polwarth Wool Roving. The colorway is “Paper Roses.” (I originally thought it was called Harper Roses, and that’s what took it off of the rack and put it into my hands. What kept it in my hands was the memory of being three years old and sitting on the couch at my grandparents’ house watching Marie Osmond on the television as my aunt drew huge faces on my belly with an ink pen.) It’s lovely.

This is Classic Elite Silky Alpaca Lace. It looks gray, but it’s actually a very subtle green. This yarn is available just about everywhere, but I couldn’t pass it up, because I also purchased this pattern, and I couldn’t go home without the appropriate yarn. (I was searching for subtle with a bit of shine and a bit of haze. Done.)

This is Sunday Knits Eden, which is a light worsted weight merino. It will be used to knit an It’s the Berries cardigan. (I tried on the sample sweater, and all of a sudden I felt harmony and understanding, sympathy and trust abounding, no more falsehoods or derisions, golding living dreams of visions, mystic crystal revelation, and the mind’s true liberation. It was the dawning of the Age of Aquarius.)

Finally, I went a little crazy at Lisa Souza’s booth. (I did the same thing last year, with no regrets.) This is a Silk/Merino top named “Iris Garden.”

This is a Merino/Tussah Silk/Bamboo top named “Salt Marsh.”

This is a Superfine Merino top named “South Pacific.” (I already have plans for this one. I want to spin it bulky.)

And this is a Merino/Baby Camel/Silk top named “Bayberry.”

I failed my practice run yesterday morning, and I failed it again yesterday evening. (I have a cold. I’m learning that I have absolutely zero patience/endurance when my nose is running. The failure makes me very nervous, because I’ve now fallen out of my schedule to complete the Ease into 5K plan before Saturday’s 5K. Urgh.) To make up for my disappointment, I took an hour to finish plying the merino/silk blend that I’ve had on my wheel for the past few weeks.

Ahhhhhhh. Much better. (Fiber is my Enya.) ((I wish I had a bumper sticker that says, “Fiber is my Enya.”)) (((Or a t-shirt. With Enya sitting at a spinning wheel. (Or Enya knitting.)))) Enya. Parentheses. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The Hodge and the Podge

The worst paper cuts come from pizza boxes. I know this because Jeff is out of town, and when Jeff goes out of town, we tend to indulge. When there’s a fresh pizza in the house, I often cannot open that box quickly enough. (I’m currently sporting a Donald Duck Band-Aid on my right middle finger.)

This morning I finished up my first redo week of Couch to 5K, and I’m hating it just as much as I hated it three months ago. My goal is to run a 5K sometime around my 42nd birthday, which is in May. 42 is one of my favorite numbers, so I’m feeling fairly confident that the birthday 5K won’t kill me. (I don’t believe in irony.)

This evening for dinner I grilled a portobello mushroom with some fresh spinach and plopped them onto an English muffin with some Colby Jack cheese and horseradish mustard. It was the best thing I’ve eaten in quite some time, and it added up to only seven points. Yes. I’m doing the Weight Watchers thing again. I love/hate it, and it always works for me when I do it the right way.

I’m knitting my first project from my handspun yarn.

It will eventually be a pair of fingerless mitts.

I’ll keep you updated. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I’m just over here doing Tuesday.

Hello!

It appears that October is already 1/3 of the way over, and that raises my anxiety levels a bit because: Due to circumstances beyond my control but not REALLY beyond my control, I am now the head room parent for Meredith’s class AND Harper’s class. I filled out the form and said something like, “I will NOT be the head room parent, because I like to visit both girls’ classrooms during each of the parties.”

Last week I got the call. “No one has signed up to be a room parent for Meredith’s class. You’re the only one who sent in the form saying you will be at all parties. Will you do it?” AND, because Meredith’s teacher is currently on maternity leave and I don’t want the substitute teacher to have to deal with it, I reluctantly stepped forward.

A few days later, I received the news that Harper’s class doesn’t have a head room parent, either. Well, in my eyes, it’s not really fair that I’m doing it for Meredith and NOT for Harper, so I got all sloppy drunk and stepped up. (Disclaimer: There was no alcohol involved. I really have no idea what takes over and forces me to raise my hand when asked to do something that I don’t really want to do. Increased epinephrine levels? Hubris? The constant yearning for heroic background music to start playing when I so something that terrifies me?)

I won’t bother you with Hermionic (I just made that word up to compare myself to Hermione in Harry Potter. Meredith is reading the Harry Potter books right now, and she just reached the point where Ron notices that Hermione has three classes scheduled for 9:00 in the morning. I loved that part.) logistics. I’ll just say this: One of the big things I remember from my third grade Halloween party was when our teacher brought in a Crock Pot and melted caramels all morning so we could dip apple slices in the pot in the afternoon. I decided to recreate that memory for Meredith’s class. AND, then I received the note. Someone has an apple allergy. Also, there’s an egg allergy that includes anything MADE with eggs. Pork allergy. (No worries on that one.) Shellfish allergy. (Mollusks, anyone?) Peanut allergy. (That’s pretty much a given these days, isn’t it?) I have no idea what I’ll be doing, but please rest assured that I *will* figure something out. Hopefully.

Something in my house smells like urine, but I don’t believe it’s urine. What an interesting time of year it is.

Speaking of The Time of The Year, every year our church makes a huge batch of apple butter, and every year I purchase a jar and go all crazy with it. Apple butter in my hot tea. Apple butter on French vanilla ice cream. Spoonful of apple butter just because it’s 3:17 in the afternoon. This year I came up with the greatest apple butter combination that I’ve had so far: Take a tortilla (I prefer Flatout), spread about two tablespoons of apple butter on it, throw two slices of pepper jack cheese on top, roll it up, and you’re about to eat The Greatest Wrap Ever. The only thing that might make it better is to add something that crunches. Spinach, perhaps?

I took a spinning class last week, and two people in my life assumed that the class had something to do with sitting on a stationary bike. Instead, it had everything to do with drafting methods and getting the yarn to look right on the bobbin and Navajo plying and so forth. On Sunday afternoon, I spun two ounces of Lisa Souza’s Wensleydale in “Sky Drama.”

It’s pretty sloppy because the staple length is longer than what I’m used to (and I’m still not so good with achieving even bobbins). BUT, it’s so shiny and colorful and I can’t wait to see how it looks when it’s plied and lovely. My short-term spinning goal involves trying out as many fiber blends as I can. Spinning has become so meditative and therapeutic. I highly recommend it.

Meredith won a raffle which will enable her to be the school principal for the day on Thursday. She will start her day thirty minutes before the other students arrive, and will spend the entire day with the principal. They will have lunch, they will meet with the superintendent, and they will monitor classrooms together. At the end of the day, Meredith will be writing up a small report that will be included in the weekly newsletter. Meredith has already planned her outfit, is a bit upset that I refused to purchase a suit with heels for her, and is already brainstorming on how to make her school a better place.

Meredith: We really need to somehow get kids to try harder to behave.

Harper: I am already trying AS HARD AS I CAN!

Meredith: I bet you can try harder. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Bad Wheels and Baby Heads

A week has passed, and my ankle is still messed up.

“Go to the DOCTOR!” you say, and to that I reply, “I did!” Last Friday my sister was in town and the two of us went to Fleet Feet where she bought some amazing socks, and I was fitted for running shoes. Although the shoe fitting wasn’t nearly as awkward as a bra fitting, I will admit that taking off my socks and shoes and having a young man stick his finger under my foot for arch assessment felt a bit strange.

Young Man at Fleet Feet: Now I’d like to watch you walk.

Me: Yeah, I bet you would, Sparky.

Anyway, what he REALLY wanted to do was watch me run so he could study my style, but my ankle was hurting so badly that running was impossible. Walking was nearly impossible. (The only thing that didn’t feel nearly impossible to me that day was eating a big veggie sandwich from Great Harvest. I killed that one.) When my sister went home, I headed to the doctor who ordered an x-ray. (Sadly, they couldn’t read the x-ray until Monday, so I spent the weekend not really knowing if my ankle was broken or sprained.)

Anyway, on Saturday, our school hosted the Fall Festival which is a pretty incredible event where the price of admission includes food, drinks, pony rides, a petting zoo, games, prizes, balloon sculptures, caricatures, etc. Not included in the ticket price? Everyone who attended Fall Festival was greeted by yours truly. Because I was taking the money.

Here is an actual photo of me taking the money.

I could write a book (not really) about the sad/maddening things I witnessed at the Fall Festival, but I’ll spare you. No. Wait. Two things. 1. If an event is scheduled to last from 3:30 until 7:00 and you show up at 5:00? Don’t ask me to cut the ticket price in half. It makes me feel awkward because I really want to help you, and it makes you look cheap because I see that you have a wallet full of cash. 2. If every piece of Fall Festival correspondence has gone home with a statement that says something like, “No drop-offs are allowed. All children MUST be accompanied by a paid adult.”, don’t drop your kids off. Yes. They’ll probably be okay. BUT, what if they fall off of a horse or choke on a hot dog or simply raise the type of ten-year-old hell that shouldn’t really be raised at a family event? You are not above the rules.

By the time I got home Saturday night, my ankle felt like it was the size of a baby head. I limped out to the garage and took another x-ray. (Our radiology equipment is outdated, but it still does the trick.) Sure enough.

On Sunday, I took it easy and worked on a boatload of freelance.

On Monday? The doctor called and told me that my ankle is not broken. Also, I am NOT growing a baby in my left foot. What I have is a sprain, and what I need is eight weeks of taking it easy.

And that’s unacceptable. BECAUSE, remember those running shoes I was fitted for? Wait. Let me reword that. Remember those running shoes for which I was fitted?! They were $140 at Fleet Feet, which made it pretty easy to walk away and say, “I need to see what’s up with my ankle before I commit to such a pricey pair of shoes.” However, yesterday I found them on sale at Running Warehouse, and after finding an additional coupon code, I managed to get them for 2/3 of their suggested retail price. All of this means that I need to get back to running because I now have running shoes. And a good sports bra. And cute running shorts with underpants sewn in. (The only two things left on my list are arch supports and some foot hugging socks.)

One more thing.

Henry is still itchy. BUT, with the veterinarian’s approval, I have taken him off of all medications except for the twice daily antihistamine. The poor guy has been on antibiotics for the past five weeks, along with steroids, flea preventatives, mite injections, and antifungals. Yesterday he received his final round of vaccinations. It just seems to be too much. (I know I’m not an expert.) SO, we’re now blank slating him for a week to see what happens with The Itch.

Oh! One more thing. I spun more yarn.

It’s Aramanth by Dyeabolical, and I love it.

Enjoy your Thursday. I believe now is the time (for all good men) to bake brownies. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Running, Working, Spinning, Fighting!

This morning I got up and ran at 5:30. Seriously. I did. I’m not even lying to you. AND, I’m the first to admit that This Is Not Me.

Let me tell you the reasons why I loved running at 5:30.

1. I had the track to myself for the first twenty minutes. SO, I was able to try new running styles without feeling all weird, and I was able to sing along with my running playlist. As much as I hate running, it felt sort of awesome to be traveling in circles while singing Heretic Pride.

2. I got a really great parking spot at the gym. Last week when I went on a Friday at 6:00 in the morning? I had to park thirty miles away from the front door. This morning at 5:30? I stepped out of my car and into the gym.

3. For a few moments, I was the youngest person working out. I’m very rarely the youngest person anywhere.

4. I was back home before the kids got up.

After Jeff left for work and the kids left for school, I grabbed my laptop to get some freelance work done at a coffee dump. I got my coffee (which I view as Rent when I’m about to hog a two seater table), opened up my computer, and found that the battery was dead. I had charged it all afternoon yesterday, so this whole dead thing stirred me up a bit. (Especially since I had just spent $4.11 on a 16 oz. coffee that I did not need.) I packed everything back up, went to the store for edamame, a salad, and some macaroni and cheese, came back home, and discovered that the outlet strip I had used yesterday was in need of resetting. As I bore you with these details, the laptop is charging and I’ll be heading out again in a few hours.

Meanwhile, since my original plan was wrenched, I decided to spin the remainder of my first bobbin of Amaranth. I’ve never spun anything with silk content before (honestly, I haven’t spun much of anything because I was operating under the false assumption that my wheel was broken. Whee! I know nothing! But I’m learning!), and I’m loving it. So shiny! My plan is to spin the remaining two ounces before the weekend, and then ply them together. AND, depending on the result, I’m envisioning a shiny pink cowl. Or fingerless mitts. Or a thick and thin beret? (I realize my single ply is highly uneven. I’m working really hard at drafting the amount required to produce thicker yarns. This bobbin reflects my very happy experiment.)

Tonight I’m hooking up with some friends from high school for Mexican food and fist fighting.

Back to your Tuesday, then. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

This is the place for yarn and good news.

Thanks to each and every one of you for your words of advice and/or encouragement yesterday. Last night Meredith took me aside and said, “You know how the TSG club stood for The Shady Girls? Today Regina decided to change the S. The club is now The Sex Girls.” Jeff and I agreed that a line had been crossed. I’m meeting with the principal tomorrow morning to have the most awkward conversation I hope to EVER have with an elementary school principal. Thank God he’s nice. And sane. And doesn’t seem like one who would support a third grade club for sex girls. (Tonight, as I wander in the Land of Nod, Fluid Pudding will receive 35,493 hits from people who were definitely not looking for photos of yarn. However, buckle up. I’m about to tell you about last week’s trip to Illinois.)

On Friday morning, my mom and I picked Tempe up at 5:00 and the three of us made our annual trip to Schaumburg, Illinois for Stitches Midwest. This was our fifth year, and it did not disappoint. When we first attended Stitches back in 2007, I came back with nothing but sock yarn.

In 2008, I purchased the supplies to make this sweater:

In 2009, I fell in love with this sweater:

Yeah. It’s not really finished, is it? I’m hoping to change that sometime in 2012.

Last year we decided to skip Stitches and go to Memphis. Graceland was very good. The yarn stores? Not so much.

This year, my only plan was to get some fiber. And I did.

This Jimmy Durante lookalike is actually a pound of BFL/Tussah Silk fiber. It’s the first purchase I made at Stitches, and if all goes according to plan, it will eventually be spun and knit into a sweater. After I achieve this goal, I will surely feel invincible.

All of these were purchased from Lisa Souza, who is sort of a rock star. She was one of the nicest and most interesting people we met at Stitches, which is definitely a thing because I now want to devote a shelf in our office to Lisa Souza fiber.

When we went back to the market to kill a bit of time before the drive home on Saturday, I accidentally bought two sweater kits.

This one will be my everyday cardigan (brown! with pockets!) for this winter.

This one will be my snazzified artsy meets swanky sweater.

This is the stuff that happens at Stitches, and this is why I love going there. Sadly, only 17% of you really understand how jazzed I am right now about my loot.

May I say something that just might jazz an additional 38% of you?

Do you remember Aaron’s bike? I am pleased to report that the money is in. The bike has been ordered. Aaron will have his bike, and I couldn’t be more excited. Thanks once again for your support! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Spinning Bats and Plump Cats

Because school starts up in less than two weeks, we’re currently spending a lot of time trying to tie up loose ends and do some of the things we’ve been talking about doing since the summer began. (We STILL haven’t gone out for a Pancake Breakfast! Unacceptable!)

Tomorrow evening is our last chance to cash in the free River City Rascals baseball tickets the girls earned at school last year. I’m a HUGE baseball fan. (I’m not a huge baseball fan.) The only thing that will possibly keep us away from the stadium tomorrow (other than my complete lack of enthusiasm) is the fact that the temperature is supposed to hit 98 degrees, which along with being a terrible band, is about 38 degrees too hot for me to plop down in a stadium seat. Meredith has decided that if we cannot deal with the heat of the game, we should go with Plan B, which involves a Chinese buffet. All I Can Eat Crab Rangoon, or feeling sweat run down my back while eating peanuts or Skittles or some other crap because I tend to not think ahead and the concession stands at these places typically offer nothing but fried up dead animals that are all too often served on sticks. Hrm. This is a tough one. (This is not a tough one.)

Do you remember back in May when I bought my juicer? I’ve used it exactly three times, and I haven’t been terribly smiley about any of my concoctions. (The promise of apple season is the only thing preventing me from trying to sell the blasted thing.) Luckily, unlike the juicer, my spinning wheel purchase has officially stuck. This is my latest bobbin.

It has some thick and thin and slubby bits, and although I wish my bobbins were even and beautiful when full, I haven’t yet mastered the hook adjustments. Anyway, for the spinners out there, I have one more bobbin to fill with this fiber before I attempt to Navajo ply it. I’m not so great at the spinning thing, but it’s all about the practice, right? Right! Any advice would be appreciated.

Hey! Do you remember when Harper took a hole puncher to Sidney’s ear? Although we haven’t seen much of Sid since Scout became part of the family, I wanted to assure you that she does still exist. (AND, so does the dent in her ear.)

She’ll be hiding in the basement (with that amazing pillow globe that I bought when I was pregnant with Meredith) until the dog is no longer a threat, which should occur sometime around the 12th. The 12th of Never. Also, do you remember learning how to put your shoulders back and stick out your neck and tilt your head and suck in your stomach and push your tongue against your front teeth all in an effort to make yourself appear a bit more photogenic?

Sidney hasn’t learned that yet.

‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Ballad of the Unhappy Hummingbird

Last summer my lovely neighbor presented me with a hummingbird feeder. I made the sugar water, I hung the feeder on the hook, and the hummingbirds flocked.

A few weeks ago I pulled out the feeder. I made the sugar water, I hung the feeder on the hook, and nothing.

This morning I watched a hummingbird approach the feeder, hover for a bit, and then flit away without imbibing. I could swear I heard a very high pitched, “That place SUCKED!” as his shadow grew longer. Everyone has 24 hours in their day. I tend to sleep for about eight and a half of those, meaning I have about fifteen and a half active hours with which to work. (I use the word Active and Work pretty loosely.) I absolutely hate that I’m going to have to use some of that time to try and figure out why my hummingbirds are so angry and/or anorexic.

Hey, look! I made a skein of yarn!

The wool was dyed by Tempe and sloppily spun by me. (Lots of thick and thin spots, yet I’m pretty happy with the final result.) After finishing it up and thwacking it against the wall a few times, I became overly confident. I pulled out some merino fiber and decided to spin four ounces of lace weight. Last night found me cutting the first ounce off of my bobbin with scissors after it repeatedly broke and unwound. I’ve now ordered a used copy of The Intentional Spinner and am hoping to not lose heart too quickly.

Let’s see. What else? Scout has lost her four bottom front teeth, and it’s so adorable I could cry.

I’m getting my tubes tied the good old fashioned way on August 19th. I finally grew tired of researching all of these new-fangled permanent birth control methods and their side effects and just said, “Forget it! Let’s tie them!” The Catholic hospital where I was originally scheduled to have the Adiana procedure performed told me that they don’t want no stinkin’ tube tying going on in their operating room. The Baptist hospital said, “Us! Come to us! We’ll happily tie your tubes!” And there you go. This paragraph has absolutely nothing to do with Catholics versus Baptists, by the way. Believe it or not, I love them both equally. We’re more alike than we are different.

Cake Ball Update: I’ve baked two cakes and balled 63 cake balls. So far so good. (It was sort of a fishes and loaves moment in that one cake normally yields about 50 tablespoon-sized balls. For whatever reason, my first cake gave me 63 instead of 50. I used the same mix/icing combination and I used the same scoop. Clearly, I’ve just experienced a miracle. If any of the wedding guests bite into a cake ball and see the profile of Jesus, I really won’t be surprised.) This paragraph has nothing to do with Catholics versus Baptists, by the way.

The girls have been loving Vacation Bible School this week. (This paragraph has nothing to do with, oh, nevermind.) Next week is our trip to the American Girl Store. (Yes. That’s what I said.) A few weeks later is College for Kids, and then it’s time to think about school. (We’ve already purchased our school supplies. The summer, it flies. And we haven’t even gone for snow cones yet!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Shirtless spinning is not allowed in most establishments.

“Spinning wheel?! What kind of cockamamie Walton Family marathon are you running over there, Pudding?!” Let me explain. A dear friend of mine got a spinning wheel several months ago. I felt a slight urge to learn how to spin, but knew that I needed to start slow. With a drop spindle. And then I never bought a drop spindle, because that’s how I operate.

When I went to Camp KIP back in April, my friend from Las Vegas actually presented me with the spindle SHE learned on along with some fiber. (This is how addictions get started. Don’t EVER give me some free cocaine and tell me that it’s the same brand of cocaine with which YOU got hooked.) ((I have no idea if there are brands of cocaine. Trader Joe’s does not sell cocaine.)) (((Clarification: I am not in the market for cocaine.)))

With the arrival of my 93rd birthday in May, my dear friend with the wheel presented me with a Turkish drop spindle and a bunch of fiber. Shortly thereafter, I joined her and another spinning friend for a raw vegan meal and some yarn admiration. The fever began to rise.

Last week I received an e-mail from my lovely Vegas friend telling me that June was a special month for the wheel I had been wanting, because if you order one, matching jumbo flyers are being either given away or sold at a huge discount! And, yes! This is sort of like saying, “W porz?dku, dzi?kuj?!” Long story shortened: I did a BUNCH of research, figured out what a jumbo flyer is, and decided that it was wheel time. I called a local dealer (because I’m all about reducing environmental impact) on June 29th and bought my wheel on June 30th. (The jumbo flyer special expired at midnight on June 30th! Today I returned a bunch of library books that are due by midnight tonight! Tomorrow I’ll be eating yogurt that has a shelf date of July 8th! This is how I live!)

Here she is. She’s Polish and she’s awesome. Like Jane Krakowski.

I haven’t yet named her, but I’m thinking she looks like a Weronika. (Veronica was on the short list when we were choosing a name for Meredith. Also, Sebrina. Because of the Jellyfish song.)

I’ve spent the past five days spinning and watching YouTube videos about spinning. I’ve learned that I really like Chicks in Rubber, because I can tell that she is an expert, yet I don’t always understand what she’s saying with her lovely accent. This presents a welcome challenge. For example, I know she didn’t just tell me to take my shirt off and use my foot “just to suck on”—but really. That’s what I heard. (This will be the stuff that makes my spinning style even more swanky and unique than the next guy’s, right? (Watch this video at the 1:55 mark. Your shirt will be off and you’ll be sucking on your foot, too.)) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Everyone takes photos of fireworks.

Yesterday I noticed that my camera has a setting for fireworks. Part of me was excited about this discovery, and part of me immediately felt like I was going to become one of those people who takes 2,493 photos of the ocean or 7,594 photos of a sunset or 34,293 photos of the Cinderella castle, but with fireworks instead of oceans or the sun or castles. If I thought you might be interested, I would share all 118 photos I took last night. (Yes. Really. 118! It’s as if I watched the entire display through my CAMERA instead of just watching it in the sky! Embarrassing.) Instead, I’ll just share one.

If Van Gogh were to paint a sunflower on fire at midnight, I believe it would look something like this.

By the way, we’re now about halfway to our goal of getting a bike for Aaron. This makes me so happy. Thanks again for your help with this, and please know that if you still WANT to help, it’s not too late.

Also, please know that I’ve been making yarn. I’m not very good at it, yet it’s possibly the most relaxing thing I’ve ever done.

(Related: I learned to play this in the third grade, and I’ve been singing it in my head every time I spin. It’s a cute habit right now (mostly), but I need to get it under control.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>