Archive for May 22nd, 2006

Green is for May

Suddenly, almost a week passes and no post. What’s with that? My sweetie (who I now refuse to call DH, only because he likes it) has been working from home on some awful project for a professor. Something about indexing three volumes on international law. Only in rare moments have I been able to cause a distraction, then sneak over and furtively check my email. Sad, I know.

Some unsettling stuff has been going on in my world. Nothing awful, just random weirdness. The unending rain got to me a little. I mean, not that I was counting the days left until the ark was needed (29) or anything, but the grey, oy the grey. And the damp cold. Eeech. But I got this when I came home the other day:

Isn’t it pretty? This is the edge of the driveway where we park. Some days I just get out of my car and stare at the dam, its so shocking. Right in the middle of town we live in this oasis of quiet green. The pond we live on was once an ice farm. Since my misspent youth was spent in Florida, I had some trouble with that whole of concept of “ice” and “farm,” but after two winters in New England, I’m starting to figure it out. If you look carefully, there are some metal spikes at the edge of the water, which regulated the flow for the farm. Something to do with layers of ice?

Although its just across the driveway from our cottage, the noise of the fall isn’t awful. Usually, I can just hear it from the bathroom (oddly enough), but its kinda comforting. Imagine, 2 am or so, I stumble in after the cat wakes me (again). No glasses, no contacts, no light, and the need to scan the floor just in case some cat has left a snake lying about. The reassuring woooosh lets me relax enough to pet the cat instead of wishing to whack her upside the head (not that I would for real, but oh, the desire at 2am!)

This is just a smidge of the pond, last summer, with the dam off past the left. Swans are pretty, but kinda grumpy.

Would you believe that I had no idea what these are?

My landlady gave me the same “what, are you stupid?” look when I asked her what they were as she gave me when I asked about the snowdrops.

How about some current events?

This weekend was WEBS anniversary tent sale.

One of those unsettling things going on is trying to figure out where we will be living a year from now. While this cottage is all kinds of pastoral, its less than 700 square feet. The “second bedroom” as advertised? Will not fit a dresser and a twin bed. Seriously, its a closet. And the real bedroom? Seven feet wide. Room enough for a queen bed and barely two night tables.

A year from now, my sweetie will be graduating from Law school. Now, to me, we should wait maybe a few months or so before thinking of this, but it is the Burning Issue of the Day. He would really like to move West (Rocky Mountains, not Western CT) but I’m not sure yet. Somehow I got old along the way, and don’t feel like change. I just got to Connecticut, it seems. So what does this have to do with yarn? I really want to explore New England before moving out. This past weekend was Western Mass. Wouldn’t you know we had to drive through Northampton?

In addition to getting 8 hanks of the Classic Elite Premier for something in the new Interweave, I got enough Cascade 220 to make the Cambridge Jacket for sweetie, and the Debbie Bliss? $3 a ball for Wool/Cotton ! My husband is such an enabler.

Now that all the bins are full,

at least the top layer of stash, I’m going to have to actually knit something. (This is really a footstool, btw). So how about I ply some yarn instead?

Now, I need help here. So I put each ball–1 oz–in each bowl, to keep them separate. Then, I plied them using the opposite twist than what I spun them in. So far so good? Then why do I have one empty bowl and one *not* empty? Ok, I know that I spun one (the second) a lot thinner, but my real question: What do I do now? Separate the ball from what’s on the spindle? Ply it with itself later? Pretend I didn’t spin the two halves of the roving so amazingly different?

Oh, and the kitty is Misfit. He generally spends his entire life sleeping on the bed, so this appearance is a rare and special treat. Can’t you tell by the look on his face?


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