In which I ramble about batts and drum carders and the meaning of life . . .

I've been possessed of the desire to have a drum carder.
     I don't have fiber animals (other than the Maine Coons), so I don't have to process large amounts of fleece. I don't have a cottage industry with fiber (yet . . . but I'll come back to that!). I don't have a pressing need for a drum carder. I just like tinkering with fibers . . . different colors, different combinations of fibers . . . and my right shoulder yells at me for days after I use the handcards. So -- I want a drum carder.
     I've looked and looked online, and talked to a couple of folks voice to voice and a few others via email and such. I've read a great deal of advertising copy (some of it even well written) about a wide variety of drum carders. I've even looked at a couple in person. Not to mention lurking on forums that deal with drum carding, and going so far as to do a google search for books on drum carding. And of course, the inevitable (and fabulous) YouTube.
     The general concensus seems to be: take a class in learning how to use a drum carder, try different drum carders with the fibers a person wants to blend, and make the best choice possible given time and budgetary constraints. Well, let me tell you! Finding a class in using a drum carder is not as easy as one might think, given the constraints on my time at this point. The budget is not as big an issue, but may be after the first of the year (which is approaching with alarming rapidity) and in the event is not equal to something on the ilk of the Pat Green Supercard.
     My primary issue is having the equipment to produce batts suitable for supported spinning on Tibetan spindles (and eventually Russian spindles as well). So far, the batts I've had the best success with have been produced on Strauch carders (and one the batt creator wouldn't identify but said it's older and out of production, so in the privacy of my own twisted mind, I'm going to guess at it being a Pat Green Beverly -- mostly because that guess makes me happy!). I've bought some other batts, both locally and online. It may just be my skill level, but so far I've not had the degree of success spinning from the other batts on the Tibetans. 
     Which leads me to the next section of rambling . . . batts themselves. I've tended to approach spinning (and dyeing) in a more right-brained, gestalt, let it be what it is sort of mode. A kind of "hook my hands in sync with my right brain and let the left brain sleep for a while" process. I've had some really stellar (again, at least in my mind) results, and some not so wonderful results. The problem with that approach, I think, is that it makes repeating stellar results difficult if not impossible. Serendipity is, perhaps, not the best substitute for skill and planning. So I'm thinking that additional learning must take place; I'm just not sure how to speed the learning curve while minimizing the direct and indirect costs of learning.
     The other thing I've been struggling with during the "great drum carder debate" has been a sort of low-grade depression. Not one of those mind-bender thunderstorms of depression, more of a dull toothache depression, probably brought about by the amount of intense research I've done on drum carders, coupled with the holidays, coupled with snow, coupled with Dad's recent pattern of more "bad days" than "good days". 
     I was thinking about depression while I was out and about today. I did finally find a basket large enough for all of my supported spindles to rest in, and it was lightly padded to protect sensitive tips and 40% off. That got me happy for a minute, buying it, and even happier when it fit in the cabinet in which my spindles have lived, sort of one of those "kewl, it fits" things.Then the depression started grumbling for my attention again. So I just sat with it for a minute, and I think I figured it out.
     I've identified myself pretty thoroughly with my occupations over the course of my life. Put a lot of myself into what I was doing, and derived enormous satisfactions from my work; "whatever the job, big or small, do it well or not at all". Well, and good. When I decided I was done being a graphic designer, I got a graduate degree and became a professional therapist. I was a darn good one, and did it for a long time. When I decided I was done being a therapist, I revived an ancient teaching license, added some specialty endorsements, and took a whirl at teaching. I was darn good at that, but ran into some circumstances that required an abrupt change, so I went back to mental health counseling. Bad plan. And short-lived. I was burnt out when I changed directions, and I guess four years away from it was not long enough to ameliorate the burn out. So. Technically, I'm unemployed. And there's the pain. I feel lost . . . unanchored, or perhaps undefined. When I think about going back to what I have done, and pursuing any of those options until retirement, I experience an almost instantaneous tightening of shoulder and chest muscles, as well as an immediate drop in energy level. Even now, as I'm thinking about while I'm writing, I'm falling asleep at the keyboard; that's a dead give-away for me that my level of resistance about "going back" is incredibly high.
     Stay tuned . . . more late about batts, drum carders, and resistance.

In which the dirty alpaca fleece and I take a road trip . . .

I ended up with an alpaca fleece. It wasn't really intentional, and I never did photograph it. (That'll teach me, ba goom!) It was during a horse transaction that ultimately didn't work out well for me . . . and when it became clear that that transaction was another dead end road down which I had driven and wasted money, I consoled myself that at least I had quite a lot of dusty, dirty alpaca fleece that ultimately could be turned into something lovely, or at least perhaps something I could clean and card and sell off a bit at a time.
     Well. I have haunted the Ravelry forums about cleaning alpaca, and visited ebay numerous times for materials. I discovered that alpaca fleece needs to be skirted, washed and picked prior to carding and spinning. Okay, I figured I could skirt the dang thing on plastic in the kitchen, wash it in garment bags, and pick by hand. Then I unfolded the thing on newspaper, started picking through the clumps of poop and straw, and decided that dealing with it by hand would ultimately cost several thousand dollars (including surgery for my right shoulder that the doctor said I needed in 1996!); scratch that idea. So away to ebay to look for a wool picker (which I found but did not buy) and a drum carder (which I may yet buy!). That lowered the cost to process about three pounds of fleece to under a thousand dollars, and obviated the need for shoulder surgery. Still not much profit margin.
     Then the latest issue of Spin Off arrived, and I learned that (O! Frabjous Day!) there is a fiber mill in Colorado. Not only that, it's relatively close to me; since the suby gets 26+ mpg highway, and the weather was predicted to be lovely for a few days, away I went to call the fiber mill. In the process of talking to Andrew at SpringToo Fibers I learned that he could skirt and wash and dehair the nasty fleece for under $75 plus postage to mail it back to me. Snork, chortle, squee! Plus, if I brought the thing out to him, he'd give me a tour, show me the process, and evaluate the fleece.
     The appointed day dawned, and the fleece and I set forth. I knew sort of vaguely where I was going, and as it turned out, by the time I got there, I realized I'd been right by the location a couple of times. On the trip out, I was vaguely sad . . . the last time I'd been that far out that direction, it was with my now (thanks be!) ex-husband in the phase of trying to save our marriage, and hauling a horse (another horse deal that didn't work out so well for me, but at least didn't cost me money). I got to thinking about the losses of the last several years, and was somewhat weepy. Fortunately, the fleece was very quiet throughout the process, so I was left alone with my music and tears.
     Then I arrived, and in the face of the three rooms of SpringToo Fibers, each of which is festooned with bags and bags and bags of fibers in varying stages of being processed, my sadness went POOF! Andrew greeted me, gave me the tour (wow, amazing machinery, which of course I didn't think to photograph (apparently a slow learner) or to even ask permission to photograph (realllly slow learner). Then we settled down to evaluating the fleece. Very, very, very dirty fleece. (Still quiet, but very dirty). Then Andrew got his hands digging down in the box and pulled out clumps of fiber . . . and the fibers tore easily. The last time recently I saw that look on someone's face was when the sewer rooter guy said "well, the bad news is . . . you have a broken sewer pipe in your crawlspace." So when I saw that look, I was immediately grateful that I hadn't invested $1000 in tools and materials to make processing a dirty, nasty, damaged fleece a really costly nightmare. Andrew told me he could process the fleece for me, but that neither of us would really like the results, and if I was really lucky, I might end up with the most expensive ounce of Huacaya alpaca in the history of fleece processing. Sadness descended again.
     But the trip was not without benefit. I walked away with a lovely russet brown cria fleece, a bag of tussah silk and a bag of black diamond (for blending, you know!). And a Huacaya fleece on order to be washed and dehaired -- the most lovely grey color that comes out of the dehairing machine looking like a lovely rain cloud (I like the rain; others may feel differently) and which, when blended with the black diamond and some tussah, should dye up marvelously.
     And in the meantime, there is the cria  . . . 
     
     

Learning to spin on a Tibetan Spindle . . . the Zen of Trust

Some time back I decided I had to learn to spin on a supported spindle. So, being me, I bought a Tibetan Spindle from Neal Brand. And it sat in the spindle cabinet while I got used to the idea of it. Part of the getting used to it process involved watching anything I could find on YouTube that involved supported spindling, including Fleegle's excellent videos, more than once.
     Last month, I took the spindle out of the cabinet and tried spinning some angora fluff on it. That didn't work well. More viewing of Fleegle's videos ensued. The spindle went back in the cabinet (mostly so I didn't throw it at the wall). I stayed with my drop spindles and completed the October Spinner's challenge on Ravelry.
     This month, more viewing of Fleegle's videos. And finally, something clicked:

Alpaca, merino silk batt from The Cupcake Fiber Co. 

 Peaches is being remarkably patient posing as a support for the supported spindle. Not long after I snapped the picture, he flexed his meathooks and began to make motions toward the spindle. It went safely back into the spindle cabinet, and he and I ate our youghurt.
     Supported spinning calls for long-draw drafting, and that's something I've struggled with for, like, ever. My left hand wants to clamp down on the fluffly fibers in a death grip. And as I'm thinking about it, my right hand really does as well. This could explain the pinched nerve sensation in my neck on the right side, and the ache in my left wrist (although that could be due to upcoming snow -- the titanium plate tends to make the wrist sensitive to such things).
     Last night was a little different. I started out tense and clamping down, and of course the spinning was neither easy nor fun. I finally relaxed a little and suddenly the long-draw began to happen. And even more rewarding, I was able -- finally -- to flick the spindle and manipulate the yarn with both hands while the spindle did it's own thing. Now, granted, it's with nowhere near the fluency and grace that Fleegle has . . . but then, my friend Sara said it best: "the only thing you start at top with is a post hole."
     I spun for about an hour, ending on a good note (i.e. the point at which I took the picture of the growing cop and spindle resting against the Mighty Peaches). Then I fiddled around with windows updates, and went googling for Tibetan spindles. (Yes, I know; I have one . . . but they're like Lay's potato chips . . .) I didn't find a hot-to-go spindle, but I did find a little blog about spinning on supported spindles that I didn't think to bookmark, I just internalized. The author talked about the difference between drop spindles and supported spindles, and made the most excellent point that spinning on a supported spindle requires one to let go a little bit and relax into the spinning.
     What I extracted from that parallels the philosophy I had as a professional psychotherapist: trust the process. In a world that is becoming increasingly results-oriented, research-based, outcomes measured, quantified, qualified and rationalized, the process seems to be taking an increasingly small role. We focus on solutions and end-results and push students in schools harder and faster, put more and more pressure on teachers, therapists, clerical staff, janitors . . . outcomes, outcomes, outcomes. Yes, well. I'd like the outcome of really well-spun yarn on my Tibetan spindle, and someday I'll get that. What I've got going now is not too bad . . . and it will improve with time and practice. What won't improve it is me focusing so hard (and gripping so hard) on the end result that I ignore the process of getting to that yarn.
    
 

Which spinning wheel to buy?

I've noticed some things about myself over time. When I think about buying something, I tend to research and research and over research. Then I find a good deal, and agonize about it. I weigh the pros and cons, and generally make myself somewhat crazy in the process. And thinking about buying a new spinning wheel has not been one jot different.
      When I was first thinking about getting a spinning wheel, I researched and researched and then researched some more. I ended up buying a Spinolution Queen Bee, because of the ease of treadling on my knees, the portability, and the expanded spinning ratios that were included. Well, it was a success in that the treadling was very easy on my knees, the orifice height was just right, and it was portable. However, those were really the only things I loved about the QB . . . so down the road she went.
     I went to the opposite extreme with the Merlin Tree Roadbug, after an agonizing research process between the RB and the new Schacht Sidekick. Now, don't get me wrong. I love this little RB wheel. I have enough ratios to keep me happy, and she's very small and very portable. She fits nicely (with the offside treadle removed) in the wonderful Laurel Burch bag I got to be my "spinning bag". She's direct drive, so no fiddly strings to break, or stretch, or jump their tracks, or what-have-you. The bobbins are generous, holding six or more ounces of spun fiber. Plying is relatively easy. I've spun some really nice yarn on her. And, I really love Dave's philosophy about making a wheel that can be, in a pinch, repaired from items commonly found at Ace Hardware. (Not so easy at Home Depot, btw.)
     Then I started having this issue with my neck. I went to the chiropractor a couple of times, and he poked and prodded and jackhammered and cracked and crunched, and it was all better. Until I started spinning on the wheel. Now some of it is, sans doubt, my own body mechanics. But there is no way around the fact that the RB has an orifice height of 17 inches, with no possible adjustment that I can see without rebuilding the wheel. I have an office chair that I use for spinning that adjusts up, down, tilts, and has arms that get right up out of the way easily, and even sitting with the chair in its lowest position, I'm still having a particular neck pain that I did not have with the QB.
     So, once again, I'm in the market for a wheel. I've found a heck of a deal on a used Majacraft on Ravelry . . . and thinking strongly about it. It's one of those deals that includes virtually every add on a person could want, and that few that are not included are quite reasonably priced. So total outlay of cash is in the "acceptable" range. So what's my hold up?
     I fell in love with the looks of the Majacraft Rose, and discarded it as 1) Too expensive at the time and 2) Not really very portable. Well, the one I'm looking at is heavier but less expensive used. Did I mention not really very portable? I spin in the kitchen, and keep the wheel stored in the craft room down stairs. A matter of two doors, and two steps. Plus, I really like to go to spinner's study group at my favorite LYS, and while either wheel will fit in the back of my Suby Forester, the getting it in and out of the back may be something of challenge, given the state of my neck.
     But I digress. I really fell in love with the looks of the Rose . . . and the "good deal wheel" is not a Rose. So I wonder, if I buy the "good deal wheel" will I end up being annoyed with myself because it's not a Rose?
    

FREEDOM!

Yesterday I was able to do a deal to get my ex-husband out of my life forever! In his haste and greed he accepted a discount on the amount of money that the judge decided I 'owed' him that was almost a quarter of the original amount. It decimated my savings, and really hurt for a half a minute. But I tell you, when I walked away from that attorney's office, I felt like someone had lifted an elephant off of my shoulders.
     I celebrated by going to my favorite LYS and buying "fluffy fibers". They had their fall "destash" sale going on . . . I brought in some yarn that had been lurking in my stash for more than three years, and in return got 20% off 3 braids of fiber (2 bfl-silk, 1 SW merino) in some very yummy colors. And . . . they had just gotten in a shipment of Schacht carding combs, so I finally broke down and bought a set.
     No disrespect to my dog slicker carding combs, please understand; but they are small. The Schacht combs are large, 112 tpi, curved combs, capable of making realllly large rolags compared to the little bitty rolags I've been making with my dog slickers.
     Hmmmm. I'm distracted today. Off to Ravelry to update my stash!

I hit the wall . . .

Which was better than throwing the Tibetan spindle and bowl out the door and into the recycle bin.
     I have been lurking for some time now on the support spindle forum on Ravelry, reading random posts and oohing and ahhhing over the beautiful Tibetan and Russian spindles, and Glindles and Twindles and the like. I have been watching YouTube videos of people effortlessly spinning on these wonderful creations. So I got a Tibetan spindle and a Russian spindle and a Rose spindle.
     They are all beautiful, wonderful creations. And apparently I have 10 thumbs on my left hand and 12 on my right hand when it comes to spinning with them. I understand the theory, in a sort of herp-derp way, but the mechanics are just not working for me. Of course, it is not helping that most of my fiber stash, other than the angora, is in combed top form. Good for spinning on wheel or drop spindle . . . not so good for spinning on a supported spindle or at least not for me with all of my thumbs.
     I combed some merino top into a sort of rolag, and tried with the Tibetan. After much more effort than I've put into anything in quite a while, I had a few inches of very lumpy, slubby proto-yarn on the spindle. I did have about 30 seconds of success in a couple of hours of trying, which I suppose counts for something. I think starting the yarn is the biggest challenge . . . and continuing with it is the biggester challenge.
     On a more positive note, I did have success today with chain plying. I had a cop of singles yarn wound on a toilet paper roll. I grabbed the turkish spindle, tied on the yarn, and went to plying. It was amazingly simple . . . and would have actually yielded a quality yarn I think if the singles had been of better quality. It was a mish-mash of odds and ends of different drafting techniques, done on different spindles at different times, and even included a little section of micro-stapled fur from Rascal the siamese cat.

      Anyway. It's late, and I'm tired and my back hurts from tension about the supported spindle effort. I think I won't try to destash all things supported spindle tonight. I'll sleep on it, and have another running go at it another time.
     

Knitting with Handspun Yarn . . . ahhh! and "No-Snag" Stitch Markers

Dad's birthday hat

Semi-woolen spun Targhee top

I've posted a fair amount about my delight in spinning, and a little bit about knitting with my own handspun. I spent yesterday finishing a hat for my granddaughter Alice, using some lovely commercial lambswool yarn. Then I got adventurous and knit up a second hat. I had spun some Targhee top on my drop spindles (in this case, the now sold Grafton Mala and the not-yet-sold Arana's Little Wheel). I spun one strand very thin (on the Mala) and one very thick -- at least for me -- on the Arana. I plied the yarn and then dyed it in the microwave with food coloring. I did two dye sets -- one a very pale blue base color, and then an overdye with blue and black. This yielded some darker blue coloring in spots and some very faded black. Mixed with the blue, the black spots faded to a sort of silverish-purplish-grey. It's lovely. I was aiming for semi-woolen in my spinning, and achieved my results. I wanted semi-woolen for the spring and warmth, and for the ability to retain some "sheen". Yay! I love it when I get what I want.
     I've learned a lot knitting with my own handspun. I .E. things that I do when I'm spinning really impact the finished knit goods (duh, a no-brainer, but not as easy for a beginning spinner to focus on when worrying about drafting, dropping -- or trying not to drop! -- the spindle, or treadling the wheel. I love seeing the progression in my skills as I spin more and more, and it's no where more obvious than in the finished goods. Every little flaw in the spinning that one thinks "oh, quit knit-picking, it's not that big a deal" can become an issue in knitting.
     I think I've approached both knitting and spinning with a right-brain, anything goes mindset. While this has been really good for creativity, and has helped me tame the beast of perfectionism, it's not a good for precision in finished product. One could argue that precision is not the be-all, end-all of a handknit project. However, precision may be an important part of the difference between "hand-made" and "home-made". So I guess my new goal for this time of my life is to become more "intentional" in my spinning and in my knitting . . . to have the satisfaction of "hand-made" with high quality vs. "home-made" with lesser quality. In saying this I hope I've defined my meanings very clearly . . . I love making things, but want quality that's actually better than what can be purchased already made (cooking, apparel, whatever). Okay, enough of that rant.
     I've also been making stitch markers. I looked at a set in a LYS, similar to ones I've made in the past, and realized that they would snag an unwary knitter's yarn. In fact, my previous ones did occasionally snag my yarn -- not a big issue when I was working solely in right brain mode and with lesser quality yarns. However, as my knitting skills have increased, my desire for fine yarns has also increased. And I have quite a collection, but that's yet another story. Anyway, looking at snagging stitch markers got me thinking. I did some internet research, and found a way (with materials I had in my beading cabinet -- which is also another story) to make "No-snag stitch markers". I've been successful selling them to three local yarn stores  . . . and have  been thinking about selling them on Etsy and Ebay. The competition there is pretty fierce, and I'm not sure how to contain both time and materials cost so as to actually turn a small profit. It may not be possible, because making the darn things is pretty time intense, and puts a lot of stress on my right shoulder. but anyway, here they are . . .

      I've been making them in sets of 8. 7 alike and a beginning of row bead that's either larger, or different in some way. It's been rewarding in an unexpected way: the ones that I like the most are the ones that others seem to like the most, and the ones that sell the most quickly. The ones that I find questionable, some others really like, and some pass over quickly. I make them in three sizes: small (to fit needles 0-6), medium (to fit needles 7-11) and large (to fit needles up to size 15). I was talking to an LYS owner the other day, and we mutually agreed that anyone knitting with size 17s or larger is in all likelihood NOT knitting anything that would require stitch markers.

     I've also been contemplating learning how to turn wood. There is a local branch of Woodcrafts here in town, and they offer monthly classes. There are some really fine woodturners "out there" selling really fine products. I doubt that I could hope to compete with them in any serious way for some time to come . . . However, I do have some creative ideas that could be made manifest in wood and I believe that folks would like them as much as I like the idea  . . . 

Besides, I'm not only a collector of spindles and knitting needles, I'm really dangerous in the Home Depot handtool section . . . and should be on a leash and a tight budget when I go to Harbor Freight . . . I shudder to think what kind of damage I can do to the budget in Woodcrafts . . . 




More later . . .

Spinning Cat Fur . . . and an upcoming spindle de-stash

The old Siamese sheds 24-7. I can brush him three times a day, each time getting as much hair yield as the time before. And if I brushed him a fourth time . . .  it would be exactly the same. The Maine Coons are (according to the standard of the breed) only supposed to need to be brushed once a week. However, there is much sibling rivalry. When I call "pretty kitty" all three line up. So away we go with various brushing tools, including a gizmo I got from the vet called a "Rakomb" which looks much like a hackle, only not sharp. But more about that in a little bit. 
     One day, I was surrounded by kitties demanding their "pretty kitty" and my son and his wife were here. They asked me why I wasn't spinning the cat fur I brush/combed out of the Maine Coons. So by golly, I gathered up as much "fluffy fiber" as I had on the "Rakomb" and grabbed my lightest weight spindle, and began spinning. As near as I can tell, it's either heavy laceweight or very very light fingering weight. Gracie is a brown, grey and golden mackerel tabby spayed queen; Peaches (aka "The Mighty Peaches") is a warm buff classic tabby neutered tom, weighing in at 18 pounds. Some of the fur on the spindle is blended using the "Rakomb" as a sort of hackle (I promised there'd be more about that!), and some of it is gradiated.

 There's quite a bit more of it now, as this is an old picture. Because of the unique Maine Coone double coat, their underfur is really soft and fluffy and spins up rather like angora, only with a much shorter staple length; maybe an inch to inch and half. It takes twist well, and feels quite soft against my neck (my test area for yarn softness, lol). Gracie loves being groomed, but only yields a decent quantity of fluff every 2nd or 3rd day. Peaches yields fluff daily, but does not really like to be groomed so gathering his cat fluff usually involves a variety of distraction techniques including kitty treats.
     I've not decided what in the world I will do with the cop of cat fur once it gets too unwieldy to remain on the spindle and demands to be plied. Nor am I at all sure what I will do with the resulting yarn. My dad suggested knitting blankets for baby mice to ensure that the kitties have a plentiful supply of food. I think he was joking . . . but with Dad, there isn't any telling.
     I finally broke down and bought a couple of Golding spindles, one large, one medium and one micro. The micro is fantastic; .6 oz of lignum vitae spindle, with a rather short shaft (a disappointment) but an incredible looooooonnnnnnggg spin time. The med. weight (1.5 oz Kingwood) is equally wonderful. It's currently in use spinning some merino/possum blend that is in a very difficult, dense carded thin batt form full of VM and other "stuff". It wants to be spun very fine, but does not want to respond to a woolen long draw. I like the Golding for it because the spindle will just spin while I tease out (or yank out, in some cases), these recalcitrant fibers. I'm ready to pull it apart with my dog slicker "handcards" and make rolags if it doesn't start behaving better! At least that way I won't have to stop every few inches and remove foreign objects from the fibers.
     The large vintage Golding is on its way to me from Alaska. And I've been lurking on Golding's site eyeing still more . . . I wonder if there is a 12-step group for spindlers . . . 
     The advent of the Goldings created serious overcrowding in my fiber cabinet. And spinning on the ringspindles is so much easier on my poor aching right shoulder (my spindle hand), I'm contemplating de-stashing some of the spindles I have loved in the past. I took pictures this morning, intending to put them up on Ravelry. When I put them back in the fiber cabinet for safe keeping (kitties like things that roll around!), I was swamped with a wave of nostaligia, remembering the fibers I put so much work into spinning . . . and I haven't posted the pictures. Then I looked at Golding's site again . . . drooling . . . 
     Hmmm. Maybe I'll post the de-stash pictures after I find that 12-step group for compulsive spindle buyers . . . .
     

Adventures in Fiber Arts

For the last several weeks I've been knitting baby things  like mad in advance of the birth of Jason and Elizaa's child (new grandson) who is expected in November. However, spinning has intervened. Two new Spindolyns:

     Shown at right, the smaller of the two that I bought in the larger base. The yarn is not distinct in the picture, but it is at least laceweight, superwash merino. When it's done, I'll ply it I think to make some fingering weight yarn to dye and send to my friend Sara for Christmas.
     I had so much fun with this yarn, I can't begin to tell you. The cats tried to have fun with it, too, but since they don't really have thumbs, they haven't learned how to spin yet. (Just how to grab a mouthful of fluffy fibers and run like mad). 
     The other thing I've been doing is making "no-snag" stitch markers. I had made a bunch for myself and as gifts some years ago, and thought since I have time on my hands I'd do some more. I got to looking around the internet and found a formula for no wire, "no-snag" markers that I've been making and selling locally. I may make the plunge and set up an Etsy shop toward the end of the year.

       And the final adventure of the day . . . I had a couple of helpers today setting up beads for tomorrow morning's stitch marker production run, and the Maine Coons (Gracie and The Mighty Peaches) were in evidence, trying to help. One of my helpers decided to help by brushing Peaches, and got a big cloud of fluffy buff and cream fiber from his sides and belly. I looked at the cat, the helper and the fiber, and quick grabbed my smallest drop spindle, little Piccolo. And away I went, spinning cat fur!

A mixture of fiber from Gracie and Peaches.

My father asked me what I planned to knit with the cat fur yarn. I told him I had no idea. He suggested making blankets for mice babies, so the cats would have a warm and steady supply of food.

Quite a day!

Knitting with Handspun . . . lessons learned

Well, I found a pattern that would accommodate the hunky-chunky handspun. And the result is . . .

 A hunka-chunka baby hat!

I am really adoring the hiya needles . . . the cable is soooo flexible, I was able to use a 24 inch cable with size 15 needle tips, and knit the hat with magic loop.

What I learned about spinning . . . I'm still overtwisting on the spinning wheel, and just making the problem worse when I ply, at least with this yarn.

I think an error may have crept in . . .

     My last several posts have featured my adventures in spinning and dyeing my own yarn. And that has been a marvelous, and educational process. I've loved some of my results, and not loved others so much . . . But, the one thing I haven't done -- yet -- is to knit with my own handspun yarn.

     Oh, I have been knitting. The latest grandbaby is due at the end of October, or thereabouts. So, my, yes indeed, I have been knitting. But NOT with my own yarn. Above the is baby cocoon I just finished.
Below is a finished hat.

And an unfinished hat . . .

There are some sad things about this little hat . . .

• It may be too big for the baby, but not big enough for an adult. What can I say . . . I'm mathematically challenged.
• Although it's working up beautifully with the tag ends of two skeins of yarn, I'm just not going to have enough yarn left to finish it. So . . . either frog it, rewind the yarn and do something else, or bust open a new skein and have not enough of it left to do a full pair of anything other than anklets, or YET ANOTHER baby hat in this color . . . (yikes), or abandon the project.

     Other than those sad things, I'm impressed with myself. I'm actually knitting on size 2 needles with great abandon and comfort. (More about the needles in a little bit).
     Which brings me back to "do," as the song says. When I finished as much of the sad little hat as I could stand last night, I decided I'd try my new, large Hiya Hiya interchangeable circs, and some of my handspun. I have a little hank of something between chunky and ridiculous in plied weight, and thought . . . I'm up anyway, let's see how quickly I can knit a hat out of this. Do you remember that I mentioned being mathematically challenged? Well. Away I went, casting on size 10 needles with the super chunk yarn . . . and it didn't go so well for me, needless to say. The length I frogged would have easily accommodated Godzilla (if I could catch him to try on a chunky hand-dyed superwash hat!).
     This morning I went to Ravelry and found a recipe for a hat, in fact, two hats, one adult and one baby. I'm sure there's enough in this hank to do an adult, and possibly enough to do two baby hats.

     I'm thinking that knitting my own handspun is ultimately going to make me a better spinner. This hank represents one of my first Navajo plying attempts . . . and it's pretty awful. I hope that when it's knitted up, I won't be ashamed to wear it. Or maybe I'll knit a baby hat for winter, and hope that the weight of it won't collapse the baby's skull! And if all else fails, I can frog it and combine it with a complementing color and make a seriously funky scarf!
     More about that later.
     And on the subject of more later, I was looking on the Ravelry used tools forum, and found a person looking for some Addi Clicks. Well, I had a set of the lace clicks, and I have tried to love them. You have no idea how much I've tried to love them. And I do love some things about them. The certainty of the "click" join. I love that. The smooth, relatively sharp tips. I love that. The lack of swivel cable, I don't love. The "bump" at the join, which always seems to snag my yarn no matter what I do, or what I'm knitting; I really don't love that. So long story short, I traded my Addis for two sets of Hiya Hiya Interchangeables.

     I admit, I was a little alarmed by the trade prospect. I've done a lot of buying and selling on eBay, and really like PayPal buyer protection. So this was stepping out on a kind of faith I've been quite short of for a while now. Fortunately, my trade partner is possessed of a high degree of ethic. I took a bit of a loss on the trade, looked at monetarily. The Addis were barely used, and I paid full retail. However, the "I don't loves" about them outweighed the "I loves"; and I really love everything about the Hiyas, including the beautiful cases. I'm trying to discipline myself this summer to sell or barter that which no longer "grows corn" for me . . . get rid of the old and make room for the new. But that's another whole separate rant.

     In the meantime, I'll be knitting.

Finished objects . . . at last

Wow! My last post was in March, and it's now past the 4th of July. Hmmm. I'd like to tell it off to writer's block, but that would be a lie. Fact is, I have not had writer's block. I just haven't written. In self defense, I'd like to say it's because I've done some knitting (a pair of fingerless mitts for my friend Carlotta) and a great deal of both spinning and spindling. Also, my job description changed abruptly and for the worse in May, and the middle of last month I elected to become unemployed by submitting my resignation on a Wednesday morning, and that evening, leaving work in tears for the 24th day in six weeks, I went to HR and told the head of HR "I'm done." So, now being unemployed, one might think I'd be blogging like mad. But no. I've been licking my wounds, spinning and plying, pulling weeds, cleaning the garage, tending to my dad, and starting two businesses. (More about both of them later.)


So, spinning and spindling and plying. The Queen Bee wheel finally arrived, and I've been a busy little spinner. I've produced some very creditable singles, and done some two-ply. I also decided that I really needed to learn how to Navajo ply, so away I went to You Tube (the source of miracles for us visually oriented learners, I tell you!) and watched several wonderful videos about Navajo plying. They make it look soooooo easy . . . 


I don't have a picture of my first Navajo plied yarn, as my son's GF fell in love with it and bought it! Yay! However, there are others  . . . 

Targhee top spun and Navajo plied on the Bee

Coopworth roving dyed with food coloring, spindled and andean plied on the Bee

I also finished four ounces of superwash, and Navajo plied it. I died it with food coloring after it was spun, and reeeaaaaallly like the colors. I went looking on the computer just now, but evidently I did not get a pic snapped of it before it went into the yarn cupboard. I will remedy that, and fairly quickly, as it is the 4th skein I've Navajo plied, and it looks pretty darn good.


I've been thinking about what to do with the yarn. Knit, of course, that's just obvious . . . but what to knit? I've got a variety of weights, and colors. Some greens, some browns, the Autumn Splendor yarn which looked amazing in batt, but didn't ply well in the Andean ply. It's got some really obnoxious barber poling things going on . . . sort of like looking at a bumblebee dressed in a tutu while you're on a really bad acid trip  . . . Anyway, I've got this variety of colors and textures . . . I'm thinking maybe a sideways scarf, just for fun. Ya know, one of those monsters where you cast on 148 stitches on size 10 needles and knit every row, changing colors randomly, until your fingers fall off, your eyes bug out, you run out of yarn, or you just can't stand the project any more and are glad that it's summer so you can put the thing in time out in the closet until it starts snowing . . . 


But enough. Today we found out that the kids are going to be presenting me with a grandson in November. I've been thinking about knitting one of the baby cocoons I saw on Ravelry. Guess I either have to get some more superwash roving and get to spinning, or break down and buy yarn (like that's a real hardship! lol).

In the meantime, I've got some very nice finished handspun yarn, and I'm proud of myself.

Adventures in Dyeing, part II . . .

I wasn't satisfied with the yarn I dyed with Koolaid last week, so I overdyed some of it with splotches of food coloring. I think I like it better, but I'm not sure, so I skeined it up and  put it in time out for a while. I may come back and fool with it later, and I may not. In any event, it was good practice for my first dyeing experiment.

Today's adventure may not have worked so well. I'm getting very tired of spindling only white, and wanted something with loooooog repeats, which last week's yarn won't have, alas. So I was in bed, thinking, and decided maybe the best way to get said loooooong repeats would be to dye roving. My Scots ancestors don't approve of waste (they're in the back of my head grumbling about last week's yarn, let me tell you what!), so I tried today's experiments with superwash roving. Emboldened by the success with the "free" FUO (fleece of unknown origin), I hauled out the food coloring, gloves, vinegar, superwash, and commenced.

 This first batch I dyed in three layers. The first layer black and red, the second layer red (with a little yellow to try to make orange) and the top layer a lot of yellow and some red. Well, that being said, my adventure was successful, I think, but not quite what I had planned. The roving ended up amazing colors: black, blue, red, orange, yellow, green and for pete's sake BROWN! I think I'll name it Autumn Splendour.


But learning did take place. I dyed the next lot a batch at a time. The first one black with some red, the second one red only. The black has some amazing blue spots and a little bit of red with some white left. The red is red, pale red (almost pink) and white.




The last two batches are orange and yellow, less white, and better dye adhesion. I either overdyed the first two, or did not cook them long enough. I'm afraid the FO will probably bleed dye. Not sure if it's function of dyeing superwash roving, or lack of cooking. I KNOW I used enough vinegar, the cat's still sneezing! And the kitchen smells like a pickle factory, despite the back door being open and my feeties being cold. Anyway, the last batch . . . 

 I'm really satisfied with the orange and yellow. 




I'm looking, in the finished spun yarn, for the potential for very looooong repeats with the splendid blends that noro seems to achieve. I'm thinking that control of the repeats is going to involve spindling little strands from each color to the length I want, very thin, into a cop and then repeating the process for strand two . . . and possibly strand three. That should be quite the adventure in spindling. The bad news, I don't see any way that I can Andean ply this project and end up with anything other than a nasty colored mess. The good news, I broke down and ordered a Jumbo Kate from Nancy's Knit Knacks, which shipped yesterday. So hopefully it arrives before I get disgusted with the project I've set myself.


The RUO I dyed the other day with food coloring in the microwave is spindling wonderfully. The repeats are everything I wanted, quite by accident I might add, and the yarn is looking wonderful. I'm not sure what it will be like when it's plied. More about that later.

Yarns to dye for . . .

well, maybe, and maybe not. I'll have to see how they knit up to know whether or not I like the colors the way I dyed them. However, I adored the process. The kitchen, and my hands, smell of kool-aid and vinegar. And so, alas, does the wool. But I think that as a first attempt, I would consider it a success.

Picture of the first batch, microwave dyed, below.

The colors are not as bright in the picture as the yarn really is . . . darn it, but I'm pleased with the result.


The yarn, soaked in vinegar water, accepted the dyes beautifully. I did the first batch in the microwave, the second batch in mason jars set in a water bath on the stove, and then got really ambitious and dyed some roving I inherited with the last two spindles I bought with food coloring. I was a little alarmed about it, as I was afraid it would felt, but it's drying rather quickly and doesn't appear -- so far -- to have felted, so apparently I did something right!





Dyed roving .  . . 

And the yarn as it is right now, on the fabulous Cascade spindle . . .

The blues don't show up as well in this picture. I'm soooo excited about plying and finishing this project. There's still most of a gallon bag of roving to spindle . . .

Here there be yarn . . .

So I've been spinning. Actually, spindling. And knitting with energized yarn I plied, but that's different story. When I get disgusted, in fact, with the energized yarn, if it's slow at work, I pull out the spindles and some roving and have at it. And in fact, this Saturday and Sunday it was regularly paced enough that I spun several ounces of wool roving.

Since the last time I posted, my spindling has improved. I have gone from evil dreads that ultimately graced the trash pail to some acceptable thick and thin that plies well and looks "homespun" to some really nice, consistent thickness of yarn. The wool roving is quite a bit stickier than the superwash I started with, and today, I finally succeeded in doing some actual long drafting. I was impressed with myself.

I wound everything off on a too small niddy noddy, and then went to my favorite source for all things video, YouTube, and found a wonderful video about making an Andean bracelet for plying. With computer in front of me, video playing, I made the Andean bracelet, and used the cheaper than cheap, poorly balanced plying horse spindle (named Buffy because I sharpened the bottom with the pencil sharpener, and it would kill any good sized vampire with a great quickness!). The yarn plied like a dream, and is really well balanced. I finished it, and it's dry.

The second skein turned out to be a monster in size. There was absolutely no way to tie two balls of yarn together and make an andean bracelet. So Buffy and I got quite the workout and darn it, the balls were of uneven length, so I andean plied what was left on the second ball into a third skein.

Tomorrow . . . adventures in dying yarn with food coloring and kool-aid . . .

I begin to see why spinning -- or more correctly spindling -- is addictive . . .

But on the other hand, instead of buying not one, not two but FIFTEEN skeins of what was described as "luxury fibers" that turned out to be wonderful and yummy but NOT -- and I do mean NOT -- plied, I might have skipped all that and spent my money at Little Knits. After all, the money I spent on the "luxury fibers" would have bought a lot of madelinetosh pashmina. Or other fibrous goodness.

It seems like all I have done for the last three days is ply yarn. With a cheap, poorly balanced no notch drop spindle. (The average, "entry-level" job, complete with alpaca roving that I succeeded in turning into dreadlocks. "Separate the fuzzy fibers" my backside.) The good news is that I've gotten pretty good at plying on the cheap drop spindle. When leads to bigger and better things . . . like spinning clockwise.

Away I went to my favorite LYS, and with vorpal checkbook in hand, I purchased a whopping $6.00 of undyed superwash roving, not for the aesthetics of the stuff, but to practice. And to big box mart where I purchased an incredibly cheap (and not terribly expensive) paper towel holder to use as an aid to plying. I thought, slip the balls of yarn over the dowel, center pulls, ply no problem. Well, ply I did, but not without problem. Scratch that idea. Nancy's Knick Knacks makes a nice gizmo for doing just that, but it requires any standard wheel bobbin  . . . groans. Does that mean I will eventually end up with a wheel . . . (I daresay I will . . . but more about that later. Like, after income tax time).

So I finished my plying and Dad and I had dinner, then I grabbed the spindle and some roving . . . and made (as if you couldn't guess) a really nice set of undyed, superwash dreadlocks.

The dreads are now living in the trash. I could have maybe salvaged the mess, plied it with some of the "luxury fibers" and made an interesting homespun. Unfortunately, there would not be enough of it to even be worth it. And I'm not sure that confidence is built by saving the mistakes . . . 

I pulled up my favorite source for all things instructional, the mighty YouTube. Watched a few videos, and started again. Evidently something clicked in my little brain, because I actually produced a fairly respectable few inches of yarn. In a mere two and half hours. Of course, I would have spent that time doing something, I suppose. The point is, learning is beginning to take place. I expect that when I allow myself to buy a good quality spindle, learning will take place much more rapidly. But while I'm still dropping the spindle (although not as much now as day before yesterday), I'm not sure I want to risk a really good quality spindle.

This phase of learning reminds me very much of when I first taught myself to knit. I purchased a number of inexpensive "metal" and some plastic circular needles. The cables were thick and inflexible and quite nasty. The "metal" straights had no balance, no feel and no soul. Oh, and of course, I bought a great deal of the least expensive acrylic yarn I could buy . . . And stuck with it faithfully for a long time, hating the results, not having much fun, but by golly I was knitting!

Finally my friend Sara pointed out that I might have more success if I actually invested in some good quality needles and some better yarn. When I did, things got a lot easier. I suspect it will be that way with "spindling" as well . . . But you see, I know how this goes.

I replaced my junk straight needles with bamboo, and like the results. I replaced the plastic circs with the Harmony wood options needles from Knit Picks. Now, I love Knit Picks customer service (as do most people that have purchased the Harmony wood needles, because of the coming loose from the housing issue) and I love the feel of the needles. And before I began to be concerned with speed, the Harmony wood was fabulous. I also bought the Harmony wood straights, and love them, love them, love them.

But with confidence and skill comes the need for speed. Fortunately, I bought several of the nickle plate options tips. So out of cold storage they have come. And, I bought a set of HiyaHiya interchangeables (small). Now, I don't particularly love the Hiya tips; they're quite a bit more blunt than the Options. But, they work okay for DK weight and larger. And the swivel on the cord is just magnificent. And while on my rampage, I bought a set of Addi Lace clicks. Okay, four sets of circs is a lot  . . . but I guess I've got a type of tip for every possible knitting choice.

And I'm really afraid that spinning is going to be the same thing. I can see building confidence on the drop spindle leading to a better drop spindle or several, leading to a kick spindle for plying, leading to a wheel or an e-spinner for serious yarn production, leading to a stash closet that will no longer shut and a bank account hovering on empty.

In retrospect, I think I should have just avoided the "luxury fibers" and stuck with dang pashmina.

But just for a brief moment, tonight, while I was spindling, I had a real sense of peace. And after all, I guess that's what it's about.

Bitten by the spinning bug

I learned something from working with the bunny scarf yarn and of course a new pathway in learning is rapidly taking me back in time . . . 

The yarn is yummy, yummy and soft. It's a blend of alpaca and angora with a tad of mohair and a strand of silk. And it is unplied. I didn't really think about these things when I was knitting the bunny scarf, because of the lace pattern and the larger needles I was using. I was just careful in picking up the fine, fine strand of silk and called it good. Emboldened by my success, however . . . 

I grabbed a ball of alpaca, silk, cashmere (from the same seller) and discovered FOUR strands, unplied. Undaunted, I cast on and began knitting . . . and HATED it. Knitting is supposed to be relaxing, right? Peaceful, meditative . . . NOT! I was cussing a blue streak and two rows into the pattern frogged the whole darn thing, and considered trashing the yarn. Not at all a positive frame of mind, I tell you.

Walked away, played on facebook for a while . . . then had a brilliant idea. I went to the yarn closet and grabbed the really cheap, not well balanced drop spindle I had gotten with a drop spindle kit, and decided to ply the yarn. Never mind the fact that I have used a drop spindle a total of three times in my life, two with an alarmingly spectacular lack of success (the results of my attempt to spin an ounce of alpaca "fluff" look like diseased dreadlocks) and one with some merino and someone else's better quality spindle (with somewhat more success). Nonetheless, i decided that this yarn MUST be plied. I did a little reading  . . . enough to know that I would ply the yarn anti-clockwise, and I was off.

Success! Mostly, anyway. I did manage to create a nice ball of plied yarn out of the four strands I started with. I put quite a bit too much twist in the yarn, making it really difficult to knit. However, I then turned around and replied it with a ball of the "bunny scarf" yarn, and I did not put anywhere near as much twist, resulting in a ball of lovely thick and thin earth tones, and I am now knitting a hat with it. The hat is three quarters of the way done, and I am really liking the results.


Which takes me back to the title of this post: I have been bitten! Success with the yarn plying gives me confidence that "spindling" will be easier than I had thought. Of course, it will take forever to spin enough yarn to knit anything bigger than a placemat (shaking my head and wondering if it makes any sense at all), not giving me anything like instant gratification . . . maybe I asked at some time for patience? If so, the universe is certainly giving the opportunity to learn patience (grimacing).

I took a spinning class many years ago . . . and could not get my feet and hands to work in sync enough to spin anything better than a 1970's version of dreadlocks. The little bit of yarn I actually succeeded in spinning could have been used to inflict serious injury on home invaders, and probably should have been registered as a deadly weapon. I have wanted for some time now to learn again. I'm not sure that my hand-foot coordination is any better, but I know a lot more about how to relax than I did 30 years ago. And my logical brain works better . . . plus, success breeds success, and I have had some success with the drop spindle.


And I'm beginning to drool a little about the concept of making yarn in colors I adore, vs. putting up with someone else's short repeats, or funky colors that look good in the skein and something else entirely on the needles . . . 

The Bunny Scarf is done!

I finished the bunny scarf this evening. I'm not sure why it worked up so quickly, especially since I frogged the beginning once, and part way through, had to frog again. It seems like it just sort of worked itself, peacefully and harmoniously. This is the first knitting project I've had in a long time that did that.

 It's waiting now in my completed projects stash for light blocking and it's ultimate destination. Yippee!

What a difference a day makes . . .

So I have been working on a monster lace pattern scarf. I found the pattern on Ravelry -- the Mason-Dixon blog site, actually, which is in itself a hoot, but that's another story.

Anyway, I started the scarf with a skein of Fundy Footsie sock yarn, and hated it, so away it went to frog-land. I started over, and added a skein of Tapping Tootsie sock yarn, and still hated it, but I hated it less. So away I went frogging . . . and added a skein of Paton's Silk Bamboo in a nice ivory color. At last, I didn't hate the colors, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out WHY the pattern stitch didn't look like the picture of the wonderful lace scarf shown on the blog.

But I am nothing if not willing to persevere for the cause of knitting. So I've been working on this monster scarf (3 strands held together, size 11 needles) for some time now. And still not really liking it, but not really hating it.

This morning, I hauled it out and started working on it again, and by accident did something different (although not quite right) with my yarn overs, and lo, and behold, the lace pattern suddenly worked. So I played around with it some more, and sometimes the pattern worked, and sometimes it did not. I thought I'd finally found the rhyme and reason to it, so I took it to work thinking I'd work on it a little bit if I had some slack time.

Slack time came and I had a novel thought. . . why not see if somewhere on the vast internet I could find a tutorial on the "correct" way to do a yarn over? Hmmm . . . what a concept. So, I did. And, again, lo and behind, I've not been doing the very simple yarn over correctly in the many years I've been knitting. (Can you say self-taught?) Now, knowledge may be power but in this case, it proved dangerous. The pattern that didn't look like the picture looked okay . . . the correct pattern looked pretty darn good, but didn't match the first half of the scarf.

Two choices . . . frog it all and start over. (And as I was thinking about, and thinking about my love-hate feelings about this scarf, I decided I'd rather eat my fingers than do that.) Or, frog back to the point where I stumbled on the "right way to do it", bind off, and make a half-scarf. That felt like a really good thing to do, so I did it. And proceeded to give the half-scarf to a colleague who's small enough to be able to use it and enjoy it! Voila! She's warm and happy, I'm rid of the "happy accident" . . . and I learned how to do a yarn over which will make this year's goal of knitting lace so much more rewarding.

Needless to say, I started over with the scarf. Of course, I'm now almost out of bamboo with enough sock yarn left to finish the scarf -- as cast on -- and make it long enough to work for my much taller self. And, not incidentally, this also solves the problem I'm having with the pashmina scarf I've tried three times to knit. I dread frogging that one again . . . the madelinetosh pashmina yarn HATES being frogged. Oh, well . . .

WIPs and a promise . . .

So my challenge to myself this year (and part of a New Year's pact I made with a friend) is to become competent at knitting lace.

Hah! Little did I know . . .

The lace madness bug has bitten. And it involves things I wasn't sure I'd ever do . . . like knitting with nickle plated needles, reading charts, and knitting with smaller needles than I ever thought I'd enjoy.

Of course, it has involved much buying of yarn, which I always enjoy. I did a major destash last October when one of my favorite LYSs offered a deal . . . bring in your old yarn (any kind, any amount) and get 20% NEW Yarn . . . enough for 2 complete projects. Well! There was, of course, yarn I'd been lusting after, and it seemed like a good time to blast my yarn budget to tiny bits. After all, a good cause . . . acrylic yarn lurking in my stash going to a better (charity based) home freeing up space for wonderful wool, and wool/mulberry silk, and wool/alpaca/silk yarn . . . how could I lose! And better still, it left enough space in my stash for the new, yummy, lace weight yarns!

What I didn't reckon on was that this lace knitting business and my Harmony wood needles would not fare so well together. I have loved those needles despite their many failings (coming loose from their screw housings, cables breaking, cables unscrewing) and I discovered that they are just not what I need for knitting lace. So I hauled my nickle plates out of the bag, and boy howdy did I pick up speed! Same problems, tho, at least with the cables despite cranking on that silly little cable key like no tomorrow.

So away I go to the internet to do my research. Much spare time devoted to reading reviews of needles. Much input. Much head-whirling. Turbos? Addi lace? Hiya-Hiya steel? KA bamboo? All of them having pros and cons. Maybe just stay with the Options nickle plate and bit the bullet on the cable issues? Oh, heck with it, another glass of wine and it just will not matter.

But I persevere (or perseverate). I finally got fed up, even with myself, and called the wonderful folks at Little Knits (www.littleknits.com) and ordered the Addi Lace Clicks. And some more lace yarn with the gift certificate that came along with the purchase. I'm waiting for the needles . . . I hope I will be thrilled with cables that don't unscrew themselves.

So . . . I currently have four WIPs on needles that involve some form of lace pattern. My stash is tolerably organized. My large Lion tote bag that is home to tools not immediately in use is organized. I found a wonderful app for my Android phone that keeps immediate track of needles, hooks, projects, and even contains a built in row counter. I can't figure out how to be able to save photos of WIPs to the stash program, but if I do, I'll post it.

And I was reading a blog in Knitting Daily about stash organization which is really what got me started writing this. One or two of the folks that responded were talking about keeping a knitting journal, and it occurred to me that rather than put ONE MORE THING in my darned Laurel Burch tote bag . . . I could keep an electronic journal here. And now, I'm thinking, hmmmm . . . maybe I do want a hard copy after all.

Any way -- 2 of the scarves on needles now call for the same stitch:

Cast on odd number of stitches
Seed stitch 1st two rows (k1,P1) repeat to end of row
Row 3 and all subsequent rows: Sl1 *K2tog* repeat to end of row
Repeat row three until you're out of yarn and don't want to buy more, sick of the scarf or reach the desired length.

Easy peasy!
Pics will follow