A bit of a randomness post, as I took the pictures of All The Things, but promptly forgot to load any of them onto the computer. (This will make for a very impressive next week, I am sure…)
While I prefer wooden needles for almost everything, I am finally beginning to realize that due to the rather tight gauge at which I knit socks, wooden needles really aren’t the thing. For socks, at any rate.
Why? I break them. On one sock alone (and you know how many socks there are right now), I have broken two wooden needles in the past week.
Therefore, all the socks are now on metal needles. I prefer the softness and warmth of wood. I like the flexibility wooden needles have vs. the rigidity of metal. And who knows? There may be an ideal needle material that falls somewhere in the middle. That is both non-breakable and bendy-warm-softish. But until I discover that miraculous needle material that can do no wrong, socks go on metal needles.
2. Ginormous Project of Gigantitude
It’s done. Or, well, it’s almost done. All I have left for this giant project for work is my editor’s letter, and let’s face it–at this point I should be able to crank out 500 words in my sleep. And I might have to. Because my waking brain is completely rebelling against any more work-related writing at the moment.
But the discoveries element of the Ginormous Project of Gigantitude is this: Every year I have this project. This 50-plus question survey and all the responses (from 2,000+ people) to analyze amd then collect into a 50,000-some-word magazine. This is my sixth year putting the thing together. So you’d think I’d have learned by now.
But I never learn.
By the end of the day yesterday, as I put the finishing touches on the last section of the report, simultaneously swearing at my laptop keyboard’s sudden decision that capital T’s are not necessary (do you know how many sentences start with the word “The” or “This”?), I was a blithering idiot. At some point on Tuesday, I gave up on trying to subsist like a normal person and instead started eating only popcorn and chocolate, with occasional quick, unidentifiable-in-the-aftermath meals thrown in. Also coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.
And all of that, combined with all of the incessant typing, and the endless staring at the screen, using of the calculator and sitting in the chair…well, it has me feeling like I’ve got ants in my pants who are coated in honey and thus cannot move at all but just sit there in my pants wishing that they could move because they’re ants and ants do things but these ants have been eating crappy food and can only sit around feeling sticky and bloated and…
You get the picture.
I have not learned. But I am aware of my not-learning. And awareness is the beginning of the slow scrape back to normalcy.
3. The Whole Handspun vs. Commercial Thing
Darn it all. I always thought that I was a freak of nature, because almost everyone I know who takes up spinning suddenly reaches a point where they see the light and decide that handspun is the only way to go. They then develop (I assume) the ability to resist beautiful commercial yarns.
I’ve never seen that light. Hence, my equally ridiculous yarn and fiber stashes.
But I can kind of see that maybe I’m standing sort of at the edge of the light, because let me tell you…what was it? Two weeks ago that I cast on the two handspun socks?
Well, both of these are already at the heel turn. In fact, the top one is past the heel turn and I’ve almost finished the gusset already. And it’s not even due to yarn thickness. I mean, they are a bit thicker than a commercial fingering weight, but I’m knitting on the same size needles I’d use for commercial, and I also made the legs 2 inches longer than I usually would, so that’s no explanation.
The only explanation is that I too am completely enamored when I knit with handspun.
Now if only that feeling would coalesce into an ability to resist commercial yarns, we’d be all set. Or, well, sort of set, as I don’t see myself learning to resist wool for spinning at any point in the near future.
Some people can spin very fine indeed. Do you know what that is?
It’s 2,800 yards of 4-ply light fingering weight.
Holy carp! The lady can spin some fine fine supah-fine yarn.
5. I Am Such a Nerd
Because this is really, really quite funny to me.
Next week I promise I’ll have more to show! I hope you have a fun-filled holiday weekend, my fiber-loving friends!