Hello Again

It seems like forever since I have written anything. I often get the urge and say I will write later. Then I don't. Always busy with something else like petting my dog, spinning some yarn, knitting something that may or may not get finished. Always something.

Because there is always something maybe I should talk about it here. In the past that seemed to be the thing to do. Why not now?

So, some of the changes since 2018...

The BF and I are living in and traveling (well, not right now) in our RV. We began this little journey in February of 2019. Since then we have been from New York state to California and back again. The COVID pandemic threw us back to our starting point for the summer. Hope to be on the road again by fall.

Because we can't travel, hobbies have come back to the forefront...cooking, spinning, knitting and writing of all things.

Have been working on a few new recipes that I will post in my cooking blog soon. Fun stuff.

As far as the others:

Purchased this amazing silk to cable ply with some equally amazing sure alpaca. Spinning silk is an art. Not one I was familiar with until a couple of days ago. Spinning silk is like trying to tame a kitten by holding it in the palm of your hand while it struggles to get away. You have to find just the right grip to keep it (the kitten) from jumping out of your hand. Silk needs a gentle hold, but not so gentle as to allow the twist to creep up into the gently held sliver. It takes a bit of practice. But, once mastered, silk can be spun into the finest wee bit of singles!

If you can see it, the single is so fine that it falls between the b and the e in Liberty. I didn't notice this until I saw the photo!

As for the Suri, it was a challenge because of the VM, second cuts and noils in the fiber. Made for slow going in the spinning process. But, it is finished and N-plied into a beautiful, soft 3 ply.

Really curious as to how the finished product will look. Have never cable plied before. Should be interesting.

 

Take The First Step

If you would have asked me two, three, or five years ago what I would be doing, living in Ecuador would not have been one of my answers.  Not because I didn't want to live in a foreign country. Not because I was afraid to travel. Not because I hadn't dreamed about living an unusual life. I just thought that it was a dream and was financially unobtainable; something only rich people do.

The second half of my life has been blessed with dreams. My BF has helped with that. Every dream I have had, he has helped make it happen.  

On my 30th birthday I was alone. Raising 2 daughters. Looking at a future of hard work. I lived in fear and I wasn't happy.

Then I met my BF.  I never dreamed of someone like him until he was "stalking" me at Torrejon AB in Spain (that was a dream too). I think I fell in love before he did, but it doesn't matter. We are together now, still best friends after 30 years of play and laughter.

Flash forward ten or so years. Ever since I was a child and I saw the Disney movie about the dancing horse, I had wanted a Paso Fino.  On my 40th birthday - I had one.  And not just any Paso, but a granddaughter of a world class Paso. She was amazing!  She was a dream come true. She won ribbons and even won a class at the Rocky Mountain Regionals.

I raised sheep, llamas, and had an organic egg business for about 10 years. Why?  Because I wanted to and the BF made sure I got to.

Then we moved to central New York state and another dream fell in my lap. With the help of my father and the BF, I was able to open a yarn shop. A yarn shop? Why? Same answer, I wanted to. It was fun. I made many good friends and miss them all so much.

But as with all good things, there comes a time when you have to let them go and focus on the next dream.  The next dream was the BFs rather than mine, but that is alright. It was something we had been tossing around for almost 20 years. We had looked at Costa Rica back in the early 90s. My fears stole that at that time. The fear of change, the fear of not having enough money. Oh, and don't forget the fear of having young children and "What would they do?" It was all crap and I robbed my entire family of what may have been the greatest adventure of their lives.

When my BF mentioned vacationing in Ecuador I was puzzled.  Why Ecuador? Well, he preyed on my love of all things Spanish. My love of the Spanish culture was the carrot he dangled in front of my nose. 

"It is less expensive than Spain." he said.

"They speak Spanish there." he said.

"The U.S. dollar is the currency, so no exchange rate." he said.

"Buy the tickets and book the hotels and I will go with you." I said.

He did. We went. We went again. We sold everything and came back. To stay.

Now, we are living not only his dream but mine as well.  I love the differences in the lifestyle, the ease of each day, the new sites and sounds and tastes. 

Looking back at my life I see a trail of dreams fulfilled. Some by chance and others because of the wonderful man that I married. He helped me overcome my fears (there were many) and truly live. He helped me live out loud and be joyous. He allowed me to dream and never told me that dreams don't come true, no matter what your age.

They do!  All you have to do is take the first step.  Oh, and don't forget to take the next one as well.

This post was inspired by Cindy Wood, and her FaceBook post this morning.  Thank you Cindy!

Life Is Crazy

It has been so long since I have posted.  It has been so long that I seem to have forgotten my voice.  Which person blogged here?  Is she still around?  Does she still think the same way?  View the world with the same eyes? Or has life thrown a few curve balls and caused her perspective to change?

Me. Yes. No. Only one of them. And Yes.

I haven't posted a thing here since 2012.  Holy Mackerel Andy!  That is a lifetime!  Since then, I have closed the yarn shop.  My dad passed peacefully, at home, surrounded by his children and grandchildren.  Hijo Primero graduated from college with a degree in Bio-Chemical Engineering (where in the hell those brains came from I will never know).  Hijo Segundo graduated from college with a BA in Political Science (Magna Cum Laude, again with the brains).  Hija Primera is living in New Hampshire with her husband and son. The BF has retired from the Air Force after reaching the rank of Chief Master Sergeant. And Hija Segunda is living with her dad and I in...and this is the Crazy part of the Life is Crazy...Ecuador!

Yes.  We have kicked everything we knew to the curb, packed a few belongings, bid farewell to our friends and family and left the country!  We bought a guesthouse, Casita Las Mareas on the Pacific coast, in the province of Manabi' in the village of San Jacinto.  It doesn't keep us very busy.  Life is simple. Life here is idyllic.  It is still so new. 

Casita Las Mareas

There are days that I feel as if I live in a movie.  The sun is shining, the waves are out there - in my front yard no less - doing what waves do and making the most peaceful background noise, the locals are playing their music that makes me want to dance and life is unbelievable.

I do miss my friends and my family that we left behind.  There are days that I miss them terribly.  But, the show must go on and life must be lived - even if it seems crazy at times.  

I hope I can keep coming back and put new life into this little corner of my world.  Maybe it can keep me sane.  Or maybe I can just get back to sharing the insanity as it happens.  Who knows.  Who really cares?  

New Yarn!

I love walking through the door of the shop every morning and seeing the beautiful colors, textures and fibers of the many and varied yarns.  It gives me a feeling of contentment for some reason.  A feeling that all is right with the world as long as there are yarns to knit, colors to absorb and soft fibers to touch. 

The only problem is that I see the same things every day!  

Having a shop and running it by yourself is like having one big fiber stash.  You feel the need to add to it.  It must be dynamic.  It must change and flow with the times.  It can't be allowed to stagnate.  The only remedy is to buy more yarn!  And not just a skein or two.  It must be in quantities to fill the shelves, giving them new life.

In that respect, I have been doing my job, albeit slowly.

Often I think that my offerings are slim and limited.  But, last week, as I was doing inventory, I realized that for being in business only 2 years, and with very limited capital, this little shop looks good.  It doesn't have what the big stores have, and never will.  What it does have is a sense of serenity and calm that only a small, intimate space can have.  It has a good selection of quality, affordable yarns.  There are buttons, notions, fiber, and more.  All you have to do is look.  It is there.

Last month I brought in three new yarn lines:

 Dyelot Yarns out of Santa Fe, New Mexico,

This is the Recovery Package.  Includes 4 hanks of yarn!  Generous hank of over 1200 yards.

Also new is Done Roving from Maine.

This is Stepping Out, a wool crepe/nylon yarn.  Beautiful colors!

And, last but definitely not least,  Galler Yarns from New York.

This bin contains Heather Alpaca Prime and is significantly less full as of closing on the 30th of August.
The generous hanks contain over 600 yards of the softest alpaca imaginable!

Each of these companies is family owned, and wonderful to work with.  I love the fact that when I call to order I am talking to the person that actually envisions the finished yarn, the mind that combines the colors, the hands that touch the fibers.

Now I have something new to look at every morning.  Something new to share and to dream about knitting into something wonderful for someone, somewhere, someday.

Until I get my hands on them, all of these yarns can be ordered if you wish.  Just send me a message and get your hands on a hank or two!

Melon Collie

I don't like to post when I am feeling melancholy.  My biggest fear is that I will come off maudlin and really embarrass myself.   That wouldn't be good at all!  If someone in the local area read it, would they look at me and point and say "Oh, look, that is the woman that writes the melodramas!"  Or, "Poor thing, she hasn't had a happy day in her life."  Or, worse yet, "Quick, run, she might tell us how her day is going!"  All of those things would put me into such a downward spiral that I might never recover.

So, melancholy means silence on the old blog.  But, sometimes it isn't melancholy.  It is simply the lack of inspiration; the inability of my old brain to transfer the thoughts in my head into something worth reading.

The past couple of weeks haven't been without blog fodder though.  Took my dad to Antietam and Gettysburg.  Both were awe inspiring and heartbreaking.  Found a couple of lost relatives as well.  One in the Antietam National Cemetery...

And the other was listed on the Pennsylvania Monument at Gettysburg.

My dad thought is was fun when I asked him to hold his license beneath name on the memorial.

We stopped at so many places and saw so many things.  By the 5th day, we were both ready to head home.

And, because this is a blog about my life and the things I love, I just have to share the picture above!  It is my most recent shipment of Frajous Fiber's recycled sari silk and banana silk yarns.  Both are so soft and have a wonderful drape.  See a color you like?  Drop me a line.  We can talk.

And, yes, I may be a little melancholy, or melon collie as my friend Becca would laugh, but, it will be over soon.  I have my friends.  I have my family.  I have my wonderful life.  What's to be melon collie about?

Cascade Cash Vero

I am currently knitting samples for the new store.

Sample garments sell patterns - of which I don't carry many because of Ravelry being so rich with free ones.  I am knitting up a pair of Susie's Reading Mitts for a future class.  And let me tell you, they are so soft that they may not make it to the sample display!

But, sample garments also sell yarn.  And the yarn I am using now is like knitting with butter!  It is Cascade's Cash Vero DK.  I have to say it is similar to Debbie Bliss CashMerino in that it has just a small amount of Cashmere.  But oh does that Cashmere pack a punch!

Cascade's blend is 55% Extra Fine Merino, which gives the yarn a wonderful elasticity and makes it behave as a good wool should.  Then they added 33% microfiber acrylic to the blend which gives the yarn a nice handle and added sturdiness.  Add 12% cashmere to the mix and you have knitting heaven!

I don't know how it washes up yet.  But I can tell you it is truly a dream to knit with. The mitts slide on and off so easily.  They are so warm and so soft that I want a pair in every color!  And there are many to choose from.  Currently I have given this yarn top place in my baby yarns.  I carry the soft baby colors of pink, blue, mint green and white, along with black, wine and gray.  As the cash flow pick up I hope to bring in more colors.

If you have never tried a cashmere blend yarn before I would highly recommend this as a starting point in your fiber exploration.  It is easy to knit with, relatively affordable at under $9 a ball, and so soft that you will want to spoil yourself and knit up something to keep!  Head to your LYS as soon as you can and give it a touch and a fondle.  If you don't have it locally, give me a holler - here, on Ravelry, or Facebook and we can get you taken care of.  You have to try this yarn!!!!

I give it a Blue Yarn Ball!

+It is soft to the touch

+It is easy to knit with and doesn't have a tendency to split

+It show great stitch definition

+Is relatively affordable

-Only has 125 yards per ball.  

Closing the Door

This is a post to let any reader that remains know that I am closing the door to my room.  Well, not really.  I am still babbling away.  But for personal reasons the babble is now on Facebook and available for my FB friends to see and read.

Why the move?  FB allows for a bit more privacy.  And, most of my friends are there anyway.  If you aren't sign up and look for me there!  Bev Warner, at Face Book.  My logo is my avatar.  Looking forward to seeing yo there.

Unexpected Hilarity

Years ago I saw a segment with Steve Martin - "Teaching Your Children To Talk Wrong".  Although not his most famous routine, it was one that I found to be his funniest.  When I had children, I set about doing just that!  It was fun, it was entertaining, it was interesting to watch them wrap their limited experience around the concept.
How does one teach their children to "Talk Wrong"?  It is simple really.  All you do is take one of the small, baby babble words they use everyday and use it too. 
With my oldest daughter it was Kikity Kat.  I must admit, she was very bright.  It didn't take her long to figure out the Kikity Kat was, in truth, a kitty cat.  The day I discovered this revelation on her part was a sad day for me.  Very sad  indeed as she refused to play along.  She would not allow me to repeat after her.  It was always, "Mommy, what is it really?"  She questioned to the point of me feeling absolute distrust on her part.  To this day I just don't understand. Where did I fail.
Hija Primera must have clued her sister in on the evil game as Segunda never uttered a word until she could speak in complete sentences with a preciseness reserved for a professor of phonics.  Not just complete sentences, but sentences packed with three and four syllable words!  Where is the fun in that.  A child that is quiet until they are six years old, save the occasional bleat or whinny.  No, I am not kidding.  This child wanted to be a horse when she grew up.  Her animal sounds were so convincing that creatures large and small would answer!  Cattle were lowing right along with her.  Horses would stop their grazing and run to the fence to see the small human that spoke their language.  Cats would meow, dogs would bark, Segunda would answer in kind.  Then, one day...She spoke!  And. Never. Shut. Up.
Then along came Hijo Primero!  Another opportunity to excel in the art of parental mis-guidance.  I waited the first year as he learned the basic sounds.  Then, as he uttered his first words.  The normal Mama, Dada, and mundane words for his day and needs.  Then it happened...Da Da Da Dumm... "Look Mommy! A hoe hopey!"  He shouted pointing at an antelope.  There is was!  The perfect thing to teach him to say wrong.  From that day on it was Hoe Hopey.  Not antelopey, not Hoelopey, but Hoe Hopey!  Always said with delight and exuberance.  This went on for years...and years...and years. 
Tonight I found out just how long his belief that antelope were Hoe Hopeies went on.  He was 18!  All I could do was fall over in fits of laughter.  Tears running down my face, legs crossed to alleviate the urge to...well, you know the result of hysterical laughter.  As it turns out, he was driving home with his brother and his girlfriend.  They turned onto our country road as a large herd of antelope ran in front of his 4-runner.  "Look and all the Hoe Hopeies!"  He said with delight and exuberance.  His brother thought nothing of it as that is what we always called them.  His girlfriend on the other hand, hadn't gotten the "Talk Wrong" memo.  "What are you talking about?" she asked him in puzzlement (she had no sense of humor that girl). "The antelope?" 
And I was busted.  The child/parent bond was shattered.  I was evil.  From that day on he asked his father things.  Everything from how do you get to Denver from Cheyenne to how much salt to put in a pot of water for pasta.  I was unworthy. 
Was this Grand Canyon of a rift worth it?  Hell Yes!  Steve Martin, you are my hero.

Small Victories

Last fall I whined and moaned about my Dr.'s request that I go on a diet and stop with the sweets.  The diet she suggested was a Mediterranean, not difficult - actually rather fun.  The sweets were difficult.  I am of the opinion that humans are genetically wired to eat sweets until they explode, thereby decreasing the surplus population.
The weight loss seemed to be non-existent.  In fact, my scale was really stubborn about allowing itself to decrease in the numbers shown. 
What was going on?  I analyzed my food intake.  I looked through a microscope at the ingredients on my food purchases.  Any more than 4 ingredients (sometimes 5) and it didn’t make the cut in my hunter-gatherer expeditions to the grocers.  I shopped the outside isles of the store, rarely venturing into the center isles.  My vegies were fresh; my meats organic.  What was going on?
Then, one morning a few days ago, after looking at the stingy movement of the scale, I got dressed.   I looked in the mirror.  Now, this is something I avoid for the most part.  Mirrors and I don’t get along.  But this time, as I gazed at my reflection, I noticed that my clothes didn’t fit quite right.  The jeans were baggy in the butt.  They required a couple extra notches taken in with the belt in order to stay up.  My shirt was lacking that little bit of padding around the mid section. 
Had to be my imagination.
Later that day I went out to purchase a bit of new bedding and decided to get a pair of jeans as I had worn out a pair earlier in the month.  I grabbed my favorite brand in my “size” and tried them on.   Low and behold!  The mirror in the store revealed the same poor fit.  The sales woman ran, giggling, to grab a size smaller. 
A. Size. Smaller!
Yes!
It took months.  Lots of months.  My weight is almost the same.  But, I am a size smaller than when this little ordeal began! 
Small Victories.  

I Don't Know What To Call This Game

Okay, it goes something like this...

HP (Hijo Primero) - I need a new tooth brush.
Me - I just gave you one.
HP - But it isn't soft enough.
Me - So now I am a hard person.
HP - Why do you not like light fixtures.
Me - and you don't like my lamp either.
BF (boyfriend) - puzzled look on his face as he comes up the stairs.
Me - Hon, your son doesn't like the lamp in his bedroom.
BF - I picked out that lamp.
HP - All I want is a new toothbrush.

Later in the day.

Me - coughing because of this stupid cold I have had since before Christmas.
BF - Your Mom is dyin'.
Me - (to HP)  Yer dad dosn't want me to live here anymore.

Again, later in the day.

Me to HP - What are ya drinking?
HP - (Rishi) *Irish Macha.
Me - That stuff tastes like poo.
HP - It tastes far different from poo, I'll have you know.
Me - Yer right.  It tastes like horse doopy.
HP - Why do hate beverages?
Me - I don't hate beverages, it isjust that green isn't my favorite color.
HP - So you hate the planet too?
Me - (to BF)  Hon, yer son is being mean to me.
BF - Stop bein mean to yer mom.
HP - I am not being mean to mom.  She hates the planet and beverages.
Me - And you hate your father!

This is basically how my day has gone.  And I still don't know what to call this game.  It all ends when you don't know what to respond.

Oh, and here is my shopping list, amended by HP.

Butter
Cream Cheese
Whole Chickens
Corn meal
chicken feathers for voodoo.

Maybe it should be called "Its not what you said, it is how you said it".  Or, "This is what you said, but here is what you meant."

I guess you have to be here to really get it.  Have a happy New Year!

*Irish Macha tea is a vibrant green color, almost too green!

Life Is Like A Valley Full Of Fog

 
With each and every one of us going into it blindly, not knowing what we will find or where we will go.  But we venture forth and, quite by surprise, find many amazing things.
If we are lucky, we find love, we find good friends, we find a mate with whom to start a family and share life’s moments. 
Enjoy your valley, with all its twists and turns, gifts and surprises, for it is yours and yours alone.

Its Gonna Be A Crocus!

Ordered Opalescent beads from Beadwrangler and silver bead bells from Fire Mountain beads. Should look great with the black Gloss yarn. The bells are clapperless so doubled up the amount to give the proper sound when wearing for belly dancing. Getting really excited about this project!

This shawlette is smallish; only 25" at the point.  As the daughter is smallish as well, this should be perfect.  Can't wait to see it on her as she teaches a class.  Everyone is going to want one of these!

Garden Variety Fun

I have often admired the beaded confections that some knitters are producing.  Many a time I have looked at these wonders and thought to myself, "B, you need to learn to do this."  And then promptly forgot my self-talk and moved on to the known and comfortable cables and lace.

Well, I am truly excited to say that I finally listened to myself and purchased the entire, yes the entire "Garden Variety" collection from Susan.  Not just 2009, but 2008 as well.  Now my problem is figuring out which one to make first!

My decision must come soon as I have beads and plenty of yarn beckoning.  I am really leaning toward Crocus Pocus  It would make a great hip scarf for my belly dancing daughter.

If you pass by and check out the link, give me your thoughts.

Anchovy, Anchovy

"You are so delicious!
I love you more than all the other fishes!" said by Dawn Summers, Buffy, Season 7.

As I looked at my fledgling shopping list, I noticed that Anchovies were at the top.  Now, don't get me wrong, I do enjoy these little fishes on occassion.  They impart a subtle flavor to things like pizza, sauces, and the ever popular Ceasar Salad Dressing.  But, alas, last time I made my favorite Ceasar Dressing, the anchovy was very flavorful and not so subtle.

Hence, I have decided it is time to re-evaluate my relationship with the tiny object of my flighty affection.  We must take a bit of time apart to see if we still enjoy one another's company; or, if our affair was one of culinary lust, each of us wanting something from the other that neither could provide.  Did I try to change my little anchovy into something it wasn't?  Or, did my little anchovy try too hard to be what it thought I wanted?  I prefer to think it was the latter. 

We shall give a trial separation a shot.  Maybe with some time apart we can both determine if we want the same things in life.  If, after a period of time, we cannot come together as two individuals with different tastes and different purposes, then it is time to move on. 

Maybe to salmon.

The Longest Week

It has been a long week.  A really long week.  It began almost 2 weeks ago!  But, it errupted the evening of Thanksgiving. 

Without going into the gory details, let me just say, I will be happy to have another of my children living close.  It boils down to my oldest son missing his family so  much that he is moving home until he can get himself situated out here.  I am happy.  I am relieved.  I am exhausted.  His sister, Hija Segundo has decided to stay out west.  I miss him and his sister so much that it is a physical thing.

When my children were just that, my children, I would sometimes look at them and think, "One day I won't have you all around, then I can relax."  But now, with Hijo Segundo looking forward to a college that will take him away from home, I think, "My life will be so empty when you are gone."  But he wants to stay close.  Maybe it is because of where we live.  I know that is part of the reason his brother is coming home.

Now it is time to prepare a room for an extended stay.  Stock up on foods.  Prepare for the upcoming holiday and most of my family under my roof.  We will miss you Hija Segundo.

Doing It Alone...

In public no less! 
I have taken to gathering up my knitting of an afternoon and heading out to my favorite local cafe,  http://collegestreetcafe.com/  There I sit.  At the table, in the corner, knitting away.  It is a vigil that I keep every Wednesday afternoon.  Religiously.  Me, my corner by the window, my needles and coffee.  It is a lonely vigil.  A vigil not to be taken lightly.  A vigil of love and endurance.  Just how long can I sit there, knitting away, before someone joins me.  It is my quest.  This must be done for knitters everywhere.  Kind of like a movement.  So what if the movement has been going on in other places for much longer with varied rates of success.  It is time for this to happen in this small outpost.  The movement has been a great success just 15 miles up the road in Rome, NY.  There, a group meets weekly and often has no room left for others to join.  Every table is full.  Every chair occupied.  Can that happen here?  It must! And, until it does, I will continue to occupy my table in the corner by the window at the College Street Cafe and Artists Studio.

Join me?

Holidays On The Way

There are times when little things begin to scratch away at you.  A little niggle within the cerebral cortex.  A small knot in the throat when hearing an old song.  A small laugh when you catch a little memory flitting around in your head.

With the first of our holidays looming I am reminded of holidays past.  Not because of what we are doing this year, but because of what we have done in the past.  Does this mean I am getting old?  Won't go there!  But, I digress -

This Thanksgiving is going to be the first in years that I haven't been surrounded by family.  My older children are scattered across the country, spending the holidays with their family or can't come for one reason or another.  My siblings and father are in California and don't even think about heading across the country for a turkey dinner.  And, my husbands family is in Wyoming and will more than likely be sharing the day with my oldest son. 

What little thoughts have been flitting through my head this year?  That I miss my father's wry sense of humor.  He is one of the kindest and funniest people I have ever known.  Yes, even kinder and funnier than my beloved Boyfriend. I miss my mother-in-law's pies.  She can bake a pie that would put Marie Calendar into a frenzy of competitive pique!  I miss the gentleness that is my father-in-law.  I miss the outrageous, outlandishness of my brother and the quiet, stillness of my sister.  I will miss the clamor caused by too much family around a too small table, that, in the past was an annoyance at best, but now, that it isn't mine to be annoyed about, is a small comfort.  Family.

If possible, be thankful for the family you have around you now, because they may not be there tomorrow.

To my family - all of you - and my friends - all of you too - Have a wonderful holiday season and know, you are in my thoughts as that little niggle in the cerebral cortex, the little knot in my throat, and the song that plays in my heart.

Freedom!

If you are hooked on cables, like I am, you know how fast knitting seems to move along when that awaited cable row is being worked. You have done your knitting like the good little knitter you are and happily begin the row that you have anticipated.

You get this gleam in your eye. Your fingers flex in anticipation. Your heart races. Then, you reach behind your ear, over to the table, next to your chair and "!@#! Where did my cable needle go?"

What is it with those things? Do they grow legs and saunter away thinking, "just wait, she'll never find me now". Or, is it the DH or DS? Calmly picking up that little stick thingy and using it to clean their keyboard or pipe? It could be the cat, the famous Captain that decided the cat toys were too tame and the cable needle presented a challenge yet to be beaten. Whoever the culprit, the cable needle is always gone.

I gave up trying to find the bag with the cable needles in it months ago and resorted to using a dpn. But then...the dpn went missing. Probably out having a great laugh at my expense with the bail jumping cable needle!

That was it. There was no more procrastinating. Throwing my wip down in disgust I relented and paid a visit to a couple of well known bloggers http://www.grumperina.com/cables.htm
and http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/archives/2004/06/04/cable_this.html

I chuckled as I envisioned the Yarn Harlot on the train frantically trying to figure out how to retrieve her dpn. And, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to spare myself that embarrassment. With knitting in hand, I followed the tutorial provided by Grumperina and took the plunge.

With their help I was able to tell the cat, the DS, the DH, and yes, the cable needle itself, that I was FREE! Free of the dependency of a shorter, wannabe needle. Free of the need to keep track of more than my regular 5 dpns. Freedom!

It was easy! Imagine it would be easier if the yarn wasn't black! But still!

Pixie Boy

Daemon
Originally uploaded by emmasdaughter

Shortly after Daemon and his mommy arrived here this past summer I began knitting for him. His first Grammie creation was this little hat; a much needed item in the northern climes.
It isn't quite finished as I haven't had a chance to put the pompom on the pointy end. But, how can one do a pompom when the hat is on a child's head? I ask you!

Just a Trial Post

Trying out new things with my new computer. This is a shot of Mirror Lake. Hmm…wonder why it is called that? I did a sepia effect and tilt from Windows Live Writer. Then I expect to send it to my Blogger account for posting. Will it work? We will see.

Why am I doing this? Because I am having difficulty with pictures on Blogger. I take a picture url from my flicker account, upload it to Blogger and it goes directly to the top of the page. It doesn’t matter where I tell it to go, it goes to the top. Then, I have to move it and I don’t like that I can’t get the text wrap when I do that.

I don’t want to move my blog because of the hassle of re-directing traffic. Just leave it where it is and import from here. Let us see if that works.

Oh…before I do, let me try bringing a picture over from Flickr WWell, that seems to work. At least it came to the bottom of the page. And, in case you were wondering, this is the main street in the Olympic Village area of Lake Placid, NY.

and this ends my 100th post