Fiber Raven Soiree

Presents of Mind

Beads, silk, knitting, food, coffee, wine, friends, conversation and, of course, chocolate. Lots of chocolate. These are the ingredients for a perfect day of knitting. Even when your little silk beaded bag drops one of its cute little stitches four rows back and you can't fix it, you really don't care. You just quietly put it away and start the right back of Elizabeth of York.

My entire house can fit into the kitchen of the Chateau, and it (the Chateau) was perfectly clean, free of paint fumes and uncluttered by drop cloths and misplaced furniture. Heaven.

I was waited on by the footman in black and white formalwear, curiously named Lady and inexplicably dog-shaped. Lady also served as the liveryman and the butler. Samantha, a cranky old woman, catted around peering into my knitting bag and sniffing with disdain. I'm not sure what her role at the Chateau is, but she is afforded great respect.

I really like working with the Creskeld British Breeds gansey yarn. It is much softer on the ball than the Scottish Fleet (aka Wendy Guernsey) and is already softer in the fabric than my Flying Geese Gansey, which I do love. I am curious to see how it looks and feels after it is washed.

If I were being really conscientious I would have swatched a whole piece and then washed it and I would already have satisfied my curiousity. But I like to live dangerously every once in a while.

The little bag is called a Treasure Bag. We bought these three years ago when we (Karen and I) attended a class given by Sasha Kagan. It was sponsored by Wild and Woolly in Poulsbo, which is a ferry ride away from Seattle. The store has since changed owners once or twice and I don't believe they carry them any more. I can't find any reference to them on the web which is a shame, they are great little kits.

I must bid thee farewell for the day and get the magic broom to work to clean up this place. The Malpervides and the Papantoniadas' have been peering into my living room ever since I took the curtains down to paint, and Mrs. Cravitz across the street has been standing outside taking notes, doubtless documenting various deficiencies in my housekeeping. I might like to live dangerously every so often, but you really don't want to mess with Mrs. Cravitz!