Etherknitter

Fiber Revival

The weekend transfused new life into this crispy, tired Etherknitter.  Some residual brain matter managed to regenerate into a facsimile of knitter's neural circuitry.  Suddenly, I could knit again.   The lace scarf attempts were frustrating, laughable.  A six-stitch repeat, yes?  How many times, in blind fatigue, did I forget to knit the first stitch before the pattern began?  I am getting better and better at tinking lace.

Ackers Acres Angora Bunny Blend (40% angora, 60% merino wool) is transforming into their Arrowhead Lace scarf.  I think it looks like DogPaw lace.  (Was that name considered too unromantic, or already taken?)  I plotted quietly to knit a scarf for a nurse I love.  She nurtured me after foot surgery, Mr. Etherknitter during leg healing, and my friend after her lung biopsy.  She likes magenta, in organic patterns, and has no clue why I was asking.   It was even in my stash.

The Fiber Revival on August 18th was perfect.  I know my body and my hands were there.  Pictures have been posted on the internets to prove this theory.  Barbara Clorite-Ventura provided much useful information on spinning for lace.  High speed whorls now are useful for something other than wheel ornamentation.

Others have posted courtyard shots.  I was amused by the impromptu dancer, who was clearly inspired by fiddle and recorder.  It was a perfect touch to a perfect day.  The recorder was often switched out for a bodhran.  I LOVE percussion.  My unfortunate self-consciousness prevented me from doing the dance that was in my soul.

The second picture is one of the most beautiful Peacock shawls I have encountered.  She wore it with easy grace and quiet pride.

Two weeks carved out of my life.  Gone.  The slate needs to be cleared, so I have been....PLYING.  I'm really happy with the results of WoolyBuns' Autumn Glow roving.  I divided the spun yarn by weight (I was within 1% on each bobbin after spinning).  Double ply off two bobbins, and only about three feet extra remained on one.  I wish I could be that consistent on other roving.  On the bobbin, and the unwashed skein:

477 yards, 2 ply, spun on Schacht, 2006, roving from NHS&W 2006, plyed 8/25/2007

Wherein my resident shows his mettle and my scarf shows its metal

This blog is going to be quiet for about two weeks.  I'll micropost, but I will be vera vera tired.  It is the season of new residents. 

We break them in with four weeks of one-on-one teaching.  Each staff person does two weeks.  The new resident is my surrogate child, and all energy gets poured into the days.  Instead of light, the black hole sucks energy.

We get the cream of the crop where I work.  They are remarkable, goal-oriented and talented individuals.  This year, I will include a picture of my new resident.

Do you remember all the internet photos of Hillary's head pasted on the body of a bux0m blonde?  This is NOT the male equivalent.  He's the real deal.  My resident has a simultaneous career as a professional bodybuilder.

He works out for an hour and a half each day BEFORE he comes to work.   And I thought I was going to be tired.  Mr. Etherknitter says he is not jealous.

SSS continues to afflict us all.  I am performing a dangerous experiment.  I am actively planning to knit sequential socks.  First one sock in one yarn, then another sock in another yarn.  Then, return to the first sock's mate, and finish that.  Do you think it will work?  I'm hoping to regenerate the enthusiasm for the first pair with a little "absence makes the heart grow fonder" timing.  (I DO know the flip side to that equation:  Out of sight, out of mind.  Let's hope not.)

I started the Just Our Yarn sock last week.  It is an odd colorway.  I think I'm still getting used to it.

I did find my knitting mojo again.  Habu stainless steel and silk in scarf form for my MIL.  She loves eccentric, asymmetric curiosities.  The scarf fabric is malleable and fluid, then holds the shape in catatonic fashion.  Bamboo needles were torture.  The silk and steel did not slide.  Metal needles are an improvement, but tighter rein is necessary.   I may carry Sundara grey silk in bands across parts of the scarf.  We'll see as I get farther.

Chipmunks 2, Etherknitter 0.5

I thought we had 'em licked.  Mr. Chipmunk was translocated to a battalion far afield in a brief skirmish where the Etherknitter could declare a clear victory.  I reset the Havaheart trap with luscious peanut butter, and an embedded almond.   The trap sat, lonely, ignored, for days. 

Then, she ventured out of hiding.  She started as a war bride, and endured seeing her husband carted off to cavort with French floozies for the rest of his days.  She was alone.  He left her a substantial inheritance.  The sunflower seeds would last her until she figured out what her next move would be.  Her next move was a rustling dash back into the clutter and bustle of the garage when the Enemy approached to do garden work.

I heard her chipping noises from what I thought was an old cardboard box containing plastic pots.  I kicked it.  Nothing.  Thinking to give her a chance to escape, I dragged the box out of the garage.  Several minutes were spent sorting out pots to keep and pots to recycle.  I rattled the box.  Nothing.  Silly Enemy.  At least now I knew I would have to reset the trap.

I dragged the box back into the garage.  It was heavy, and I pulled it behind me, postponing yet again the final disposition of many of the pots.

Before I can register the one ANGRY *chip* and where it is coming from, I am attacked.  Rocketing through the air by my shoulder, furry chestnut striped creature in full Mighty Mouse pose, paws stretched up and out, tail streaming behind her, launched in the terror of extremis from the depths of the box, just missing me by inches, and I SCREAM.  She lands in front of me, races back to the wall, and closer to the garage door.  I'm laughing so hard I can barely make the necessary predator noises to shoo her out. 

I'm not sure which of us was happier to see her reach freedom.  Inside, outside, suicide, I don't care.  She's gone.  I'm praying for a chipmunk's short memory.

I'm sure you can understand why there are no pictures of this event.

The LeafLace shawl was moving along swimmingly (summer adverbs only, please) until the end of repeat #6.  It's an oft-told, sad story:  count the stitches of the last right side row; come up with the correct number; purl through the wrong side row; knit to the center stitch of the next right side row with one stitch EXTRA; rip back to where the error appears, and reknit back to the center stitch; still one stitch extra; rip back to the beginning of the row and stick it back on the lace couch until I can face it again.  I'm learning to tink lace reasonably well.  Lots of practice. 

This crani cap was knit quickly for a friend who wants to cover her shaved patch after her brain surgery.

Rowan Calmer, color #492, #7 circs, 16", then #7 dpns for the decreases, three row st st hem for a slight roll, then mistake rib hat pattern courtesy of Knot Again Liesel.

I did not realize how wonderful Rowan Calmer is.