April 06, 2015
Of Clown Noses, Baskets and George Washington
Much to my surprise, the Kit the First/Kit the Second/Ms. Drag On story continues and does so in a spinning/knitting vein.
Ms. Drag On and my two non-dragon friends, Linda and Ann, and Ann’s non-dragon, non-human, big-eared companion went to a local weekend-long spinning event and this happened:
The next day, Ms. On channeled her spinning diva while sitting a tool basket she insists was custom made for her (Franklin Habit's Delores, anyone?), and I would be hard pressed to disagree.
Lastly, thanks to a rolag and drop earrings, we have the fire-breathing, snaggle-toothed, cross-dressing George Washington look:
March 31, 2015
I’m a bit of a knitting heretic because I buy minimal yarn...now. I did some respectable damage in the past—which explains the four, three-drawer Rubbermaid storage units; two big-ass, manly, garage-type containers; four underbed containers; and miscellaneous project bags, all full of yarn. But over the last few years I’ve stopped the mindless yarn accumulation, partly from guilt, partly for financial reasons, partly because for the last two years I haven't been able to go to the knitting conference where I let my freak yarn-flag fly, partly because I now tailor my projects more to what I have in stash.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not open to suggestion.
In honor of my 55th birthday, a friend gave me a cheque to buy one skein of Blue Moon Socks That Rock heavyweight, my all-time favorite sock yarn because of the weight, because of the rich and unique colors, and because I’m lazy and socks knit from this yarn knit up quickly on just 48 stitches. Because very few LYSes carry the heavyweight anymore, I resorted to ordering the yarn online, directly from Blue Moon. The plan was to buy one because the cheque covered the cost of one. Yeah, about that:
I feel emotionally rich, fulfilled and happy just looking at this exquisite pile of yarn. It will be a while, I think, before it joins the other yarns in storage upstairs.
The colourways from left to right are Tea and Alchemy, Watermelon Tourmaline, River Rocked and Sherbet.
March 25, 2015
Apparently rescuing a Kit has become a “thing.” This makes me happy. But first, the most important picture of all in this silly Kit saga: an adorable picture from San Diego of Kit the Second and his mom with Kit the Second sporting his new togs and his mom sporting a beautiful smile! I so enjoyed this whole endeavor.
Then, this past weekend, I took Kit the First to a little knitting meet-up at my Local Donut Shop (I was going to use the initials as a take-off on LYS but it came out LDS and, nope—not Mormon. Last time I checked, they have special doors that would zap me on my way in anyway.) and nothing would do but one of the knitters there had to have her own Kit. So meet Kit the Third, otherwise known as Draggie or else Ms. On. Yes, Ms. Drag On.
Draggie ready to cross the threshold into her new home:
Discovering that her new home is a little less warm than a dragon would like:
Making a warm nest out of roving:
Cobbling together an adorable outfit until mom can make some real clothes. (And trust me, Mom can do it all, the dyeing, the spinning, the knitting. Ms. On is a very lucky.) As cute as this is, from certain angles this outfit makes Draggie look like a shoeless psychedelic mummy with a horrendously bad purple comb-over. Or is it just me?
March 16, 2015
Smile for the Camera, Dahling!
I finished the scarf and hat for Kit the Second. Time for a little fashion photography with Kit the First as the model. However, the shoot got off to a shaky start. Not one second before this picture was taken, Kit was sitting up and there were no cats on the microwave.
So producer, director, model's agent and model moved the shoot to a safer location, a wobbly bookcase that I know the cats are afraid of.
First, the complete ensemble:
The scarf avec des fringes:
The jaunty look:
Snoopy fighting the Red Baron:
The winter of 2015, East Coast version:
And, no, I have made no progress in getting myself a life.
March 11, 2015
As much as I am nature- and earth-oriented—always rescuing bugs from inside the house, almost driving off the road every time I see a bald eagle, mesmerized by the smell and feel of loamy, warm summer dirt—I don’t have the energy, willpower or commitment to be a radical earth do-gooder. One thing I do get twitchy about, however, is water. One day I realized how much tap water I was wasting while waiting for it to get hot, how it was both a waste of a precious, limited resource, and a pointless waste of money—also a precious, limited resource. Accordingly, ever since, and at the risk of going all Hetty Green, I’ve heated water in an electric kettle* instead or captured the cold water to use later for cooking, drinking, taking my pills, making coffee... Here is my “water station,” the electric kettle and the pitcher of extra water:
I may have to rethink this whole "extra water in the pitcher" idea, however, because today I was sitting at my dining-room table, looked up, and discovered this:
I have no idea how long this has been going on. He seemed suspiciously comfortable jamming his head in the pitcher and drank quite contentedly and for quite a while. They have two water bowls so what the hell…?! Stupid cat.
*I realize that this, in turn, uses electricity which means I’m still using a resource and wasting money. This is similar to wasting water to rinse something before you put it in recycling. Gack! I can’t think about it too much or I’ll go doolally.