Do you remember that old TV show Connections on TLC or PBS or something? My parents loved that show. I think they taped it. Anyway, it was one of those documentary shows where they’d tell you the history of the workings behind some random stuff. But on this show, the random stuff was all connected to each other sequentially in random ways. Then they’d review how it was all connected at the end. Well… this entry is like that.
1. There was more canning in this house. Jared & I picked about 25 pounds of roma tomatoes at Larriland Farm , and a few short days later,
Jared had turned all of them into jars of his famous pasta sauce. That way, in the middle of winter, we can have just as much wonderful pasta as we usually do, at several times the cost, but far more work – because the knowledge that what you’re eating even in the dark times of year came from earth that you saw with your own eyes. One more (very, very, almost unmentionably) small step on the road to self-sustainability.
But so far, aside from acting as decoration and destroying the kitchen, this sauce has served no purpose at all except….
2. To act as a weight while blocking the last of my spinning.
Yes, I finished it, and I’m quite proud. But despite my best efforts, my spinning has gotten thinner and thinner, and the slubs I tried to throw in as I went didn’t help at all. As a result, out of three approximately equally-weighted parts, I got the following three little skeins:
Good: I have over 300 yards of beautiful handspun yarn.
Bad: It’s all completely different weight.
Good: My spinning has improved dramatically over a short period of time.
Bad: As a result, my handspun is unusuable.
Well, not completely unusable. I’ve been telling myself as i’ve spun the stuff that I’ll be able to use the thick stuff for a hat and the thin stuff for mittens or something.
However, these hopes were dashed by reality setting in, when yesterday I started:
3. A hat from the walnut-dyed yarn!
The colors are even prettier than they look here, and it’s striping up in a very fun and interesting way. It’s so easy to make that I’m seriously thinking about making a bunch and selling it. (If anyone finds a good cheap base yarn, please let me know…) I’m glad I decided to make it just a plain hat, as it really lets the hand-painted-ness shine – although I’m doing so much plain stockinette right now that it’s driving me a little bonkers. However, It’s taking most of this 250 yard skein to make a hat, so there’s no way i’m getting my handspun to become three separate knitted objects. Unless of course, my secret suspicion is correct that I’ve been accidentally knitting a hat for the Elephant Man and will have to donate it to the Smithsonian in his memory or frog it back to the start to make it fit the person it’s intended for. But on the bright side, that means that my yardage estimates were wrong, and I could totally get a hat and one mitten out of it.
What is all this plain stockinette I’m drowning in? I’ll show you:
4a. This is Instacowl the second.
(If you can’t tell by the presence of the retainer box and the bottle of water, this is my bedside knitting. It is in fact good to have something with only knit stitches in it when you are only half awake.) It also is a bit bigger than I’d planned thanks to lying gauge, but thankfully for this project it doesn’t really matter. So the only real significance of the extra large size is that it’s going to take me longer to complete it. *whine.*
4b. Lil’ Brownie continues to grow in wisdom and stature,
Having made it just past the heel on Friday. He’s still adorable, but I am So. Bored. Of Stockinette. I think he’ll become my project for walks, or for reading, or for paying attention to complicated things.
This would be okay except it’s all also in the round. None of it’s on straights, so I can’t pit-knit it, and pit-knitting makes me feel like I’m cruising down 29 in a corvette with three cops behind me. I keep trying to think of some fairaisle or something just a little fussy that I can cast on. But I feel really really obligated to gift & Christmas knitting (which all of the knitting among the above is), which somehow in my brilliantly brilliant planning is All. Really. Boring. I just keep telling myself that maybe I’ll get ahead and be able to start something else soon and very soon. Because right now, the most interesting thing I have going on the needles is:
5. The toe decreases on the second Poems Sock.
What is that I spy? Is that ANOTHER violent color change in the middle of the SECOND sock? Why yes! And to answer your second question, this one is in an even more obvious spot. The only reason I haven’t ripped them both back and tried to fix it is that (a) I’m really not that anal, and (b) the mere suggestion of redoing all that feather and fan on size 1 needles with splitty yarn, while definitely filling my quota for fussiness, makes me want to disembowl myself with the dpns.
I told you it was all related.