Kiss My Knits!

This half of a bobbin of the blue wool that I dyed. The half on the left was spun at Simucon. The half on the right was spun at home. As you can see, I’m still not ready to spin evenly with a lot of distractions. At Simucon, I chose conversation over consistency, and it was the right choice.



This is the sock I was working on at Simucon. The picture was taken on the banks of the mighty Susquehanna. Knitting needles are permitted on planes, but if the screener chooses, he or she can deny them. I decided to put the sock on bamboo DPNs, which seemed less threatening than two long metal circular needles. I also put in a lifeline and brought a self-addressed envelope and book of stamps, in case I had to mail it back to myself. You can see that the lifeline is halfway down the foot. I got as far as turning the heel on the trip. Good progress! I also listened to Harry Potter on audio, finishing it just after returning home.



Table Rock, with Mother.
We were hoping for some nice cool weather. It was not to be. Instead it was 90 degrees. On the river, however, there was shade and a fresh breeze. We stopped as we walked through town to take in the air and be in the moment. Very calming. Here’s a view of Towanda from Table Rock taken in 1899. We would be about where that bridge crossed into town. There are more phone lines now, but the town is not really much larger, to my eye.

Next time, hopefully a post with actual events.

Emily and I were just outside playing with the hose, and some evil insect bit or stung me twice on my right hand. Once when I was going to turn the water up higher, and once when I was going back to Emily. Why twice in the same area? That’s my knitting hand, and it hurts! Damn you, nature!

Still no time for a faboo entry. In the meantime, smoke ’em if you got ’em. Claudette Colbert, Paulette Goddard, and Veronica Lake wouldn’t steer you wrong!

I’ve just been busy.

I am alive and well and back in Charlotte. Until I get a chance to do a proper update, I leave you with this gem from McCall Needlework Knitting Crocheting, Summer 1944. He-man indeed. Leaving aside the question of why you have to “butch up” a design made for an infant, I guess with the menfolk away at war, you dressed the boys in whatever you wanted and called it whatever you wanted.

It was the best of times, it was the… still pretty good but not quite the best of times.

If anybody in Towanda, PA happens to find a digital camera, let me know. Le sigh.ETA:

ETA: Never mind! We searched ten times for it, but it just turned up! Yay!

It occurs to me that before I go off on another trip, I should finish posting about the last one. So let me tell you about the trip home from St. Louis!

Sunday morning, I got up bright and early – okay, sometime around 9am, which passes for “bright and early” at Simucon, and started packing up. By the way, many thanks to , who shared her room with me Saturday night since I had been unable to get one myself for all three nights. She was kind and thoughtful to do this, since I snore. Not as badly as I used to, which will come as a great relief to GM Helena, who was forced to endure it a few years ago. Apparently, I snored like a grizzled prospector. Sorry, hon.

But I digress! I wanted to hit a yarn store in Murfreesboro, TN, called the Knaughty Knitter. Apparently, they had spinning fiber as well as yarn. There was a Simucon farewell brunch at 11am, but I knew that would have me on the road too late, even without the yarn shop. With deep regrets, I said my goodbyes and hit the road a little after 10am.

I made good time, but their site said they closed at 5 on Sundays. It clearly was going to be tight. partway through Tennessee, I had an awful thought. Was Murfreesboro on Central or Eastern time? If it was Eastern time, I was out of luck, because I was going to lose an hour. I placed a cell phone call to the shop owner, who was clearly puzzled by me asking her what time zone she was in. It was Central. Woo! Still Golden!

Armed with my MapQuest directions, I arrived in Murfreesboro with about 45 minutes to spare. And promptly got lost. I doubled back about five times, called the yarn store owner for directions, doubled back a few more times, then gave it up and pulled into a gas station to ask for directions.

Me: Excuse me, but I’m very lost.
Clerk: Of course.

Well, that pretty much summed it up.

Me: I’m trying to get back to West College Street.
Clerk: Sure, we can get you there. Where are you trying to go?
Me: The Knaughty Knitter.
Clerk: OH! That’s a great yarn shop! Here’s exactly what you need to do!

WOOT! I FOUND A KNITTER! Jo (we introduced ourselves, of course) gave me perfect directions, and she admired my Tofutsies socks, and we paused for a moment to talk about yarn. Then whoosh! I was back on the road! A short time later, I was doing the roundabout around the courthouse and Civil War statue – all Southern towns have a roundabout around a courthouse and Civil War statue – and the clock read 4:40. Yikes! It was gonna be close! But it was only about a mile further and there it was. The yellow house with the dressed-up tree. Huzzah!


I spoke with the owner, who said that since she was meeting someone there about a half hour after closing, she had to be there anyway and would be glad to keep the shop open late. Score! I wound up picking up some black Pacapuf baby alpaca for my friend and some undyed Falkland top for Turtlegirl76 since she wants to try her hand at dyeing roving.

I couldn’t leave there without spinning fiber, so I picked up some Three Bags Full roving, pictured left. It’s from a Romney/Merino cross sheep, with some tussah and silk noil mixed in. Adding a little tie made of the spun yarn around the neck of the bag is a nice touch. As far as knitting material, I got the Paca Peds sock yarn pictured to the right. I liked its denimy quality.


I have to give major props to Meredith, pictured left, for being willing to let me linger. It was gracious of her. I’d also like to point out that I spent a big wad of money (thanks again, Dad!) in her store as a result of her kindness, and perhaps if the owner of Earth Guild had been willing to stay open a little longer, some of that could have been hers. I’m just sayin’.

Meredith also clearly knows her customers, because I asked her about Jo, and what sort of thing she liked. She remembered that Jo liked blacks, browns, and earthy colors. I remember Jo had commented on the Tofutsies socks. Well, without Jo, I would never have made it to the store. When I was going to the store, I made a serious point of being sure I could remember my way back from the store. And so, I picked up a hank of Schaefer Anne and brought it back to the gas station for Jo. She was touched, and so was I. We had a little Hallmark moment. Look at her. Isn’t she a sweetheart? It was really great to meet a new knitter, and so randomly and unexpectedly! Speaking of unexpected, it was after looking at this photo that I realized I’d forgotten my sunscreen that day. Oops.

(Jo, if you don’t want that, I will not be offended if you return it. Alternately, if you want to try something besides socks, you could look for Interweave Knits 2004’s Fall issue – they’ve got the Pooling Colors Scarf designed for that yarn.)

On the way out of town, I thought I could figure out how to avoid backtracking to Nashville, but I thought I’d better check and be sure, what with Murfreesboro’s mysterious shifting roads. I stopped at Starbucks.

Me: So, is 840 the best way to get back to 40 from here?
Clerk: Probably. Where are you going?
Me: Well, Charlotte, eventually.
Clerk: I love Charlotte! That’s a great city! Here’s what you want to do…

Again, what are the odds? Everybody I met in Murfreesboro was uniformly helpful and nice. If I’m ever in the neighborhood, I’ll definitely stop by again.

Apparently my Jayne hat got a link – not a review, not anything more than a four word link – from The Corner blog on the National Review site. As a result, I’ve gotten about 400 more hits than usual today. ETA: http://www.wearwithstyle.com just got a hundred more hits in the past 20 minutes, and it’s still rising. Let’s just call it “many more than usual” and leave it at that.

Behold the power of the National Review. Let’s get some more of those people watching Firefly while we’re at it – it’s a great show, it deserves more viewership!

My mother and I are returning to the ancestral family lands in Pennsylvania this weekend. We’ll be visiting spots I haven’t seen in years. Compared to Simucon last week, this should be very relaxing. I’m really looking forward to this trip.

Hats up next for: FL, CO, and CO. Colorado is a hotbed of Browncoat activity right now. Go figger.

Emily wanted me to put her hair up in a big bun today. However, I’m not good with elaborate upswept designs like that, and we only have two bobby pins. So I told her I didn’t think I could do it, and she got upset. We finally settled on two small buns, down lower, and I told her they were probably going to come undone. And that if they DID come undone, it was okay. And it was okay if she lost the bobby pins. And I could fix it later. And she needed to stay calm and not get upset. She said she wouldn’t get upset. Of course, she always says that. When I dropped her at Nature Museum camp, I told her counselor if her hair fell out or she lost the pins, it was fine. (Note, I never used the phrase “if your hair falls out” to my very literal daughter. I can just imagine the concern that would produce.)

As I predicted, her hair fell, and she got upset. I don’t know how upset. Not upset enough for them to call me, at least, so that’s something. When I came to pick her up, she’d been crying. I also can’t make out whether she is or is not enjoying the camp. It’s very frustrating.

I’m really worried about her ability to cope with third grade next year. Scratch that, next month. I’m at a loss as to how to get her to stay calm and take these things in stride. If one little thing goes wrong, her world falls apart. She’s better than she used to be with the obsessiveness, but it can still overtake her very quickly, and then it’s tough for her to hold it together. Every adult’s first instinct is to try to comfort her and help her get it together, but that really just seems to make it worse.

I feel like I’m not doing enough, but I also don’t know what else I can do. I hate writing stuff like this, because my parents read this journal and I know it makes them sad, but I still have to say it. Sorry, Mom and Dad. I wouldn’t trade her for anything, but it’s still hard. Such, I suppose, is life.

I’m still quite worn out from the trip. Maybe if I’m able to get more sleep, things will seem better.