bekka

you are there

USA Today's Monday crossword. What I like about those is that you can solve online and then print out what you got correct and work on it offline until you complete it.

a quilting we will go

Hands down, my favorite quilt pattern is log cabin. I dug out a few squares I made at least ten years ago in my first quilting class ever. Still haven't completed the project. Think I have two more squares, if I can find them, and then perhaps, I can revamp/refashion those into something snazzy. Yet I have an appreciation for all sorts of patterns like fans,  sweet simple nine patch, crazy quilts, Georgia rattlesnake, double wedding ring, grandma's garden, dresden plate, shoofly, the lively pinwheel pattern, yo-yos, maple leaf, and cathedral window. 

But Jacquie's tutorial made log cabin seem a bit more doable, within my grasp, and on my own. Let me tell you, that class I took ten years ago? Oh, I'm sure that I tried my teacher's patience. There was lots of action on my behalf with the seam ripper. What was so unusual about the class is that I was the only one, besides the teacher, who spoke English as her native language. There were 3 or 4 other women, all whose spouses worked for Siemens, and so one was from France, another from Holland, and perhaps the other two from Germany. But anyway, Jacquie's tutorial eases my mind because it contains lots of great photos, tips, and step-by-step explanations. And so, somewhere down the line, I'll try another log cabin project.

Gag, this seasonal table runner has me down a bit. Seems like I'll never get it finished. I worked on another flying goose strip Friday night. So maybe that is 2 I've completed? Out of a dozen? At that rate, it will take me another two weeks just to finish that phase of the project. But, I've learned something about paper piecing process and what works best for me. 

The way Linda taught us to approach the work reminds me a great deal of scientific management, or Taylorism. One of the tenets of Taylorism is developing a "science" for every job/project that includes regimented steps in the process. When Taylor went into a factory, he broke down a task and looked for the most efficient way to improve it.

So with the paper piecing method Linda teaches, it's very mechanized. You do the same step 8-12 times, or however many pieces you have to sew together. You fold your paper, trim the edges, match fabric to fabric and then stack the paper pieces one atop another. Once you've completed that step, you take your stack and run them through the sewing machine one by one by one. Then you slip the threads between each of those pieces and take them to the iron and iron your pieces the proper way.

I tried to love this method, but I do better with a bit more instant gratification.  I fiddled around with Linda's process and decided what worked best for me was not her method. I work on one piece at a time. Fold the paper, trim the fabric, sew it together, and then iron those pieces. Then on to the next step on that particular paper piece. In the end, I have one completed section rather than twelve pieces that still require a lot of work. It works better for me that way. I feel more productive, I guess. Or more satisfied.

Last night our quilting class met, and it whips me every time. I'm exhausted by 9 when I'm pulling together my notions and rotary cutter to go home. So instead of toiling away on my geese, Linda showed me how to put together that third, and last bit for the runner.  And there were only two pieces, which I completed in class, hooray. Now just those geese to finish up. Diane had much of her sections sewn together and so Laura and I watched as her runner reached completion. Linda showed Diane how to cut strips on the bias for its binding, and I'm sure Diane selected a backing, too.

Laura and I are supposed to call Linda in a few weeks, or maybe two months or so, when we're ready to assemble everything. And by the way, I told Linda how I'd shucked off the process for paper piecing that she showed us in class and she smiled and said something to the effect that eventually I'd return to the method which she showed us. Just don't know. I'm still skeptical.

Took a while for me to get Laura's loaner (my circa 1980-something Singer) working. Winding its bobbin always winds me up. But the problem last night was that the bobbin I tried was defective. Ugh. Was upset with the machine at first because it's the first time I've used it since retrieving it from the service man. So glad to finally get it working for Laura though.

Seriously though, quilting and sewing really appeals to me at this point in my life, much more so than does knitting, and I cannot understand it. Maybe it's that I've got a languishing knitting project that I've had several problems with. Now that I've developed the negative association with the project, I don't ever want to work on it again for fear that I'll encounter more problems. Does that ever happen to you? I know, I should buck up and not let those possibilities inform my knitting so much. Perhaps I can motivate myself to get my mind right and enter a phase of No Fear Knitting!

The other issue I'm dealing with at this point is my back. It aches almost everyday. That's not conducive to any type of creativity, unfortunately. All I want to do is recline and read. Getting lots of reading done, that's for sure, but my other projects are rather wasting away.

And, I'm seriously contemplating yet another quilting project. As I mentioned in a prior post, Quiltfest is next month. Linda had samples of the quilts/projects that each class would work on hanging in the shop. Diane is taking the Strips & Curves class, and the project sample is gorgeous, but I decided that choosing fabric for that would be beyond my ken. Besides that class, Linda suggested that two others would be good for beginning quilters: Big Tumble and Bamboo & Pinwheels.

not my den, but an idea of the color to complement w/project

There's a space in my den, on the wall that encases our fireplace's back, that sorely needs something hanging there. The color is called Jalapeno or maybe Hot Pepper. At the Glidden site I found Hot Pepper, but it looks a lot more yellow and brown than the color on my wall. I've never hanged anything there because when we use the fireplace, maybe 2-4 times each winter, that wall gets quite hot. My concern is that whatever hangs there could ignite and fry us in our beds. Simply removing the item while we've got a fire going seems like the best solution. Anyway, I think that the project I begin during Quiltfest will be the one to hang on this wall.

Big Tumble, lovely as it is, has a distinct Optic effect. Reminds me of Qbert in the days that I spent the whole of my $5 weekly allowance at the Gold Mine, our Mall's arcade. And the thing about Bamboo & Pinwheels is this: You get two quilts for the price and effort of one. You stack and sew and the pieces you use in the quilt/wall hanging come together. But then your remainders are also sewn together into a throw, or another wall hanging if you so desire. Seems like a good deal to me.

Now it comes down to color choices, and of course, signing up for the class. You chose dark, medium, and light tones in your fabric/patterns. I'm thinking brown, orange, and yellow or blue. Just don't know which will please me and suit my room. And the sample is made with Asian-inspired fabrics, but I probably won't do that, either.

sweetie pie dad

Yesterday it tickled me to learn that my dad carries the ultrasound photo of his grandchild around in his wallet. And then, while welcoming everyone to church (he's a preacher) he mentioned how nice having his daughters and grandchild there was. He's a sweetie. Made me blush, kinda.

Ian got the same father-to-be card from his parents and my dad and step-mom. When I got to work this morning I looked at the father's day cards I bought for him and saw that I'd gotten that same one for him as well. But luckily on Saturday I found an even better card for him and he opened it this morning when he arrived home from Ky.

Sunday at lunch I learned that had my sister been a boy, he would be called Eric Martin. But my step-mom let me make the final decision to call her Jessica rather than Rachel. Jessica filled me in on her friend Amanda, who is seven months pregnant. She's terribly swollen and has gained 50 pounds so far. But she only weighed 100 to start. And she knows she's having a boy. That generation! Got to have instant gratification. And Jessica even admonished me about not learning the sex. Said it would make her shopping easier if she knew what I was having. But then I reminded her that green is both our favorite colors, and she settled down a bit.

She and I dug through two plastic grocery sacks filled with onesies and other baby/toddler clothes that my step-mom passed on to me from one of her friends whose grandchild had outgrown the clothes. I so hope that I'll be able to resist spending obscene amounts of money on clothing for my child. Surely it will be easier if it is a boy. Just not enough cute baby boy clothes out there.

And step-mom gave me a classical music CD for baby to listen to: Classic Baby. It's supposed to "help foster the brain patterns essential for language and music development." But hey, I'm thinking that listening to America's Greatest Hits will put baby way ahead of the others, too.

I especially like going to my dad's church on Mother's (very rare) and Father's Day because he intersperses scripture with anecdotes about my grandparents. Like Sunday, I learned about my grandfather's integrity. How when selling potatoes, he learned the price that other farmers sold theirs at, then lowered his a bit. And he piled his bushels high when his competition kept their potatoes level with the basket's rim. He said if they paid for a bushel, they would get a full bushel from him. Never knew that my grandfather sold produce. Always knew that he was a pool shark, then later worked for Southern Potteries, and then in his retirement worked as a church custodian.

pulling together nursery

Last week I shared our dismay at learning that the crib we selected, but had not ordered, was recalled. We found a substitute. Only, we couldn't order it, or decided not to order it now, because one of the pieces isn't available to order until 22 June. Also chose one of those gliding rockers with custom fabric and finish. It takes 10-12 weeks to deliver, but we'll wait and order all our nursery furnishings at the same time.

We preferred a black or white furniture finish, but ended up going with a mahogany. Of the sets on the floor at BRU, this was our favorite. Ian even liked the Wendy Bellisimo Safari bed set theme they had it tricked out in. I promise I'm not going all theme-roomy, but I can see having a few items from this collection, like the sheet, the night light, and the changing pad cover.

The crib/bed is a 4 in 1 that transitions with the child as she/he grows. It makes sense for us. Vicki Iovine in her Girlfriend's Guide to Baby Gear: What to Buy, What to Borrow, and What to Blow Off! poo-poos the transitional crib for two reasons. First thing is due to uncertainty: Where will you be living in 2 or 3 years and will you have the space to enlarge the bed to its full size whilst living in your NYC loft? And second thing is due to the inevitability of baby number two. Her reasoning is that Girlfriend, you'll need that crib for baby number two. And forget about just letting it sleep in a pack 'n' play. Some of the book I've found helpful, and other parts just don't apply to me. It's been a month or so since I read it, so I can't say exactly what was good and bad about the book, although she gives an abbreviated and helpful list of things to take along for baby when you check into the hospital for L&D.

I think I'll make one of those hanging diaper bags. It wouldn't be difficult at all. So may feature flouncy ruffles that I simply could not abide, though the one in the Safari collection has simple lines and construction.

fleece advice

Thanks so much Emily Amelia and Elizabeth for suggesting I look into renting spinning-related equipment from a local guild or yarn store whilst processing my abundance of fleece. Seriously, I'm not sure that even with preggy brain going on that I'd think to do that. I'm so used to doing it all, doing it whole hog and on my own, that I often neglect to think of how others could possible help me out.

It's been years since I've thought of local craft guilds, and I was fairly convinced the closest would be next state over in Asheville. But no. Good old Overmountain Weaver's Guild. As soon as I found their webpages, memories returned. I recalled my weaving professor mention them, and Convergence, which is later this month. He always attended Convergence, and it sounded secretive and serious and very high brow. Seems like while I was weaving a rug one summer weaving class, he mentioned Peter Collingwood and having been in a workshop with him at Convergence.

OWG has equipment that they rent to members, including a drum carder. It seems that I'm all set. Just pay membership fees, meet lots of great like-minded people, hang out at Exchange Place, and re-familiarize myself with equipment use. And that's well worth the small membership fee verses shelling out $70 for hand carders.

As luck would have it, OWG's monthly meeting is next Wednesday. I contacted the president and she invited me to come hear their program on the use of color. Hooray, I'm all set. Thanks again, y'all for steering me in the right direction. Certainly seems like a lovely case of serendipity having it's wily way with me.

preggy karma

Beginning my 17th week as a human incubator comes with some problems. You see, I'd read and heard, but can't recall ever seeing, swollen, puffy, water-retaining pregnant women. Naively I imagined that wouldn't be me, that I'd be able to wear my wedding and engagement rings up through my ninth month.

Wrong.

The other morning I noted how swollen my left ring finger was after turning on the shower. I gasped while trying to remove my rings. Finger was seriously puffed up like some kind of water-logged rice treat. Not until I had the help of soap and water did I manage to slip those rings from my fingers. I'm pretty sad about that. But, I'm wearing a substitute wedding ring now. One that I used to wear on my right middle finger regularly. And while it's fairly loose on my left ring finger, I think it may work there a few more months.

Sure, there is some sentimentality attached to my rings. I've worn one or both of them for ten plus years at this point, so I surely miss them. I'm not worried that folks may think that I'm an unwed mother if I go about bare-fingered. It's mostly a tactile thing. My body, my brain, is used to feeling them on that finger. If it's bare, I'll see that something is missing. If I'm not looking, I'll feel that something is missing, something is wrong. It's along the same lines as how naked I feel on days I forget to put in earrings. Or if I leave the house without brushing my teeth in the morning just because I've spaced out. Before you worry about me going through the say with fiber-feeling teeth, I have a toothbrush and paste in my desk drawer at work, deodorant, too, for those uberpsacey mornings.

And Tuesday we stopped by Target to get shaving cream for Ian; he won't use my womanly shaving cream, must have his own. Entering the store ahead of us was a very pregnant woman sporting bleached blonde dreadlocks. She walked peculiarly. I commented to Ian, "Look at how she's walking. It's like there's a broomstick shoved up her butt." His reply? "Sometimes you walk like that even when you're not pregnant."

"Oh, I do not," I said. And his was essentially repeating that I did. "I. Do. Not," I said. And quickly followed that up with the "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" bit. Then reminded him that he, and everyone else, really ought to watch what they say to a pregnant woman. Because these hormone fluctuations? Well, they're turning me into a person who is easily upset, cries, and rages at things that normally would roll off her back.

Then the preggy goddesses got me back. In my back. Yesterday my back hurt a bit. Then it ached a lot. It ached tremendously so. So much that I getting in and out of the car was slow and careful. And walking? Oh, imagine exactly who I looked like? Right, so I learned my lesson about making fun, or rather, noticing things aloud, about pregnant women. I won't likely do it again. And my back still aches today, but not so much.

Also last night, after removing my standard summer shoes, a pair of Dansko sandals (mine are green & i got them for $30 at a seconds shoe store), I noticed how swollen my ankles were. Almost looked like somehow, while I wasn't paying attention, someone slipped billiard balls underneath my skin where my ankle bones should be. Also noticed marks around my ankles from the strap on my sandals. They're not tight. At least, they weren't. I slip them over my feet without unbuckling the straps. So today instead of straps around my ankles, I'm sporting my standard before-there-were-Dankso-sandals summer footwear, the Arizona. My Zurichs and Bostons will likely see a lot of play this summer and fall, since it's likely my feet will never be the same.

Suddenly, while bemoaning my swollen feet to Ian last night I remembered that in lots of cases, pregnant women's feet never return to their original size. How will I cope if this tragedy befalls me? I'll be like Cinderella's greedy step-sisters, trying to force my feet into all my pairs of shoes that no longer work for me.

I suppose that's not too much to complain about. I only have one more thing, other than heartburn and constipation. Several women with whom I work remark about how I'm aglow. Seriously, I want to have them check their eyes. I'm not glowing. My complexion, which was above average pre-pregnancy, sucks. I'm wan and spotty. My acne is worse than it's ever been. It's not fair. My hair isn't thick and lustrous, either, any more than usual.

Keep waiting and waiting for all these good times, positive aspects to being pregnant, and so far, the only plus that I can think of, and pardon me if you think this is simply TMI, is that I'm blessedly without menstrual cycle.

imperfect sudoku

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she's super fleecy

Since I have access to a farm where there are sheep, suddenly I find myself with a wealth of fleece. Jim and his helpers sheared their sheep late last week. He mentioned something to me Saturday about there being 6 big bags of fleece in the back of Brian's (his caretaker and right hand man) truck. I was surprised that he wasn't using them for Little Dudes, because learning about wool and processing it is certainly within the purview of their mission. Purview is my favorite word this week. When someone tried to pass along work to me at the library I replied with "And there is no attached document so I can determine whether this is even my purview."

Back to fleece though. Six bags of fleece? Whoopie. And I don't even spin. So what to do with it? First thing was getting it. Arranged to borrow Mom's truck (they own 20 acres in the country and are always hauling equipment down to the "farm"), called Jim and told him that I'd be over Tuesday evening to pick up the bags. Then he called me back Monday night to say that now, there were only two and a half bags. Apparently the bags we're tied up well and several of his dogs at the farm got into the fleece and scattered it around or so damaged it that he decided to just dispose of it (ACK!). Oh, and I'm fully expecting to find some of Sunny's hair in one of the bags. Sunny is Jim's Australian Shepherd and each spring when they shear the sheep, they shear Sunny, too. This year her coat doesn't look as hacked up as last; Rebekah did a fine job. I mentioned to Jim that there was a whole movement afoot of working with dog hair--processing, spinning, and knitting it, and he sort of laughed in disbelief. Basically, I wanted him to know that finding Aussie hair intermingled with my fleece was no biggie.

Picked up the bags yesterday at lunchtime and Ian whisked them straight home. He could smell them. My nose is still stopped up, but regardless, the farm and animal smells don't disturb me at all. Then yesterday I scoured the web for instructions on processing my wool. Essentially all sites gave about the same steps in washing fleece, but I printed off directions at Joy of Handspinning.

Then I pulled out my bible, of sorts. Years ago, in art school, I took five or six weaving classes. There were also dyeing and possibly spinning classes I could have taken as well, but the fiber bug didn't bite me then and now, I just regret not taking advantage of all that was before me. Anyway, the book for my weaving class was the Rachel Brown classic The Weaving, Spinning, and Dyeing Book.Occasionally over the years I've referred to it when I was card weaving or thinking about learning to spin (must find that drop spindle, where is it?). Brown gives great instructions for every step of each of the topics she covers in her book. I was curious to read what she recommended about washing fleece. Essentially it was the same, except that she said that after you wash and soak and spin a few times, you should spritz your laid out and drying fleece with oil of some kind. Which is sort of weird since you went through the process of washing the fleece to rid of its lanolin.

The whole washing of fleece is anathema to me anyway. I spent a couple years working at an historic site where there were sheep. After they were sheared, we had mounds of fleece to work with. I can't recall it ever being washed. And one of the perks of nitpicking was having the lanolin saturate your hands to soften them. of course, I think those sheep were kept a lot cleaner than Jim's, and historic site also hired professional shearers who likely skirted the fleece we worked with.

But Jim's fleece were dirty. I bought lingerie bags and heavy duty gloves to start. Then I dug through the first bag and disposed of some of the really poopy parts, leaves, sticks, and other detritus. Despite wanting the lanolin, I just felt like this fleece would be more pleasant to work with in a cleaner state.

And I suspect that the fleece I got was all this off-white color, but I haven't opened the other two bags yet, despite that Jim has several brown sheep in his pastures. The white sheep are Jacob's Sheep, and I have no idea what the brown are, could they be the same? Anyway, so I am disappointed at not getting any brown fleece, but who can look a gift fleece like this in the mouth?

Did the first soak in hot water in the washing machine for 45 minutes as described in the book and the resource I found online. Then spun the water out. Removed my lingerie bags, filled the machine with another round of hot water and soaked a second 30 minutes. Repeated that but added 1/2 cup of white vinegar to let the fleece soak the last 30 minutes, then another spin, and them removal from lingerie bags to dry. I spread my somewhat cleaner fleece out atop a rug laid across an old window screen I had in the basement for everything to dry through the night. Didn't check on them this morning before leaving for work. And though the sun is out today, I'm somewhat hesitant to let the fleece dry in the sun because it can overdry in the sun. Plus, with the wackiness of our weather of late, there's not telling when a rogue thunderstorm may crop up and saturate my almost-dry fleece.

Last night I processed approximately 8-10 pounds of fleece, and that was essentially half the contents of one bag. I'm going low on my estimates because I haven't weighed the fleece and am really not sure that my ability to guesstimate weight is all that. Surely I have about 24-30 pounds of fleece that will take another 5 or 6 night's work to wash, or scour, as it's sometimes called.

Once I've got that done, I'll set to picking. That'll take a bit of time and likely be dirty, too. It's great for doing while sitting on a porch watching neighbors drive by, but I don't have that kind of porch. I'm looking into handcarders. I can likely buy a set of curved ones for around $70. Drum carders may be more efficient, but I don't have $300 or $400 to spend on this little diversion/endeavor.

The other thing I've thought about it dyeing the fleece. I've heard different things: that you can dye it before picking and carding it, or you can dye it after spinning it. Just don't know which I prefer, or if I prefer to dye at all.

stashaholic

It's not my fault that people throw yarn my way, really! Amy came to visit. I was so excited to finally meet her. We've been pen pals for several years and were slated to meet last year as she drove across the country from California to the east coast. But there was an accident and she ended up flying home and didn't make pitstops in Tennessee. Then she moved to Buenos Aires. It's not like I can easily visit her there. I learned a lot about Argentina during her visit. While you spend a bit to fly there, actually staying is cheap. It's the new hot destination. And the great thing is that besides a love of books, reading, and travel, Amy and I also have a love of yarn and knitting in common, too.

In Argentina yarn is sold by weight. So many grams equals the base price. Most skeins, Amy told me, aren't labeled. This skein that she brought for me has a label, but it's the shop's label and doesn't give any information about content, color, gauge, or care. It's merino wool though, and I love it. What a perfect skein. Sigh. I can't decide whether to make a scarf or a hat from it. Another interesting thing about knitting in Argentina, is that they don't use circular needles. Amy wanted to make an afghan and needed a lengthy set of circular needles, which they don't sell. If you wanted to knit something substantial, you knit it in sections and then seam those together. And, you can get a pair of metal knitting needles for $2.

Then I won Risa's contest, and wow, she sent me so many skeins of yarn, that I have no clue what I'll make from them. Starting at twelve o'clock and going clockwise, I have a skein of Wooly Boully sock yarn, two skeins of Wildfoote Luxury Sock yarn, two skeins of Rio de la Plata, a skein of Rowan Classic, and two skeins of Elsebeth Lavold Silky wool. Again, whatever will I do with those?

Besides that, I bought four skeins of something pale, an ecru, in a shiny cotton, on sale, from LYS, but I can't tell you who makes it. Thought I'd try that for the EZ February Cardi I want to make for my co-worker's August baby, a girl; it's her third, so she wants to know it's sex. Those skeins aren't that special, so no astonishing photos to go along with.

However, I was so taken with yarn lust when I saw Chriss's Primavera socks on Ravelry, that I had to have some of that Violet Green Supersock, no matter that it came from overseas. Since I'm suffering from a bad case of second sock syndrome, I rarely contemplate making socks anymore. And yet. The Primavera pattern is very tempting, and with two skeins of burnt orange, because ordering just one seemed silly it coming from overseas and all, I could conceivably knit up two pairs of Primaveras.

Must say that Violet Green was astonishingly quick about dispatching my yarn. I received it in less than a week. Amazing, really. I expected it to take a month, maybe? I've ordered yarn and books from the UK, books from France (amazon.fr), and a bag/purse from South Africa, and those all took some time to arrive in my mailbox.

The true irony was that I ordered a used copy of Elizabeth Zimmerman's Knitter's Almanac from Abebooks.com on the same day I ordered the sock yarn from Violet Green. I specifically chose a vendor who lived in Rock Hill, SC, essentially less than 200 miles from where I live, perhaps a three hour drive, and paid $3.99 in shipping for this book. Sock yarn beat KA by four or five days at least. And that $3.99 shipping for the book didn't pay for priority mail, no. It arrived via regular mail. Sigh.

hoot and boon

Hooray, I'm a winner. I look at Apartment Therapy's Ohdeedoh blog regularly. They showcase all the latest baby/child paraphernalia, and I usually enter their contests. I won Thursday's giveaway which consists of a set of Boon's new feeding line. I'm already feeling the name because Daniel Boone is/was my 7th great-granduncle and before the last name had an e on the end, it was the same as this company's name. Silly, I know. Oh well. Any connection at all is a good connection, right?

Love its colors, orange and light blue. Wonder what we'll get?