What do you get when you combine Mother's Day (hello, self-indulgence for one damn day), an all day Eureka marathon, and a complete disregard for personal health and common sense?
Yeah, baby. I've been spinning all day and am on the second bobbin. At one point I did the what-you-should-never-do thing I tell everyone else, and went and took painkillers and went back to spinning. The bottom photo is pretty darn accurate for color; I took it in really nice, diffuse sunlight after a thunderstorm. Pretty, isn't it? Can't decide if I'm keeping it.
For a break I knit the sample for Frog in a Blender, for when I put it on my Etsy shop (probably tomorrow). I realize that doesn't count as much of a break.
It's been a good day. But let's not dwell on my stupidity! Let's comment on some comments!
-For all of your concerned about whether I burned myself with flying sugar, back in the dawn of my pastry-making hobby, rest assured. It flew off in such small threads that by the time it hit me, it was like getting hit with cotton candy. Sekhmet, who was sitting about five feet away, keeping me company in the kitchen, was also hit. We both just kinda stared at each other. Since then the cat's quit hanging around in the kitchen. No idea why.
-Roxie wanted to know the difference between a tweed and a heather. Really, it's pretty arbitrary, but it's got to do with how wide a range of colors there are in the roving/top/batt/whatever. Tweeds usually have a wider range of colors; that screaming red in my blue top? Hello, tweed. Heathers usually contain related colors, or shades/tones of a single color. How to spin them to best advantage? Beats me. I'm still figuring it out. Mostly I spin everything worsted and keep the plying simple.
-I intend to do some kind of crochet slip-stitch cast off sort of thingie for the Dreamsicle sock. I've done that before on lace and so feel most comfortable with it and am not in the mood for another botched bind off.
-Where the hell do I LEARN all this stuff? Um. I read a lot. My only excuse. Well, and I'm told my brain works oddly and shuffles together information from places it shouldn't. Pour in information, turn crank, see what falls out my mouth!
-I don't mean to sound as if I'm complaining about the Goob's girlie streak. I'm entertained as all hell. But the DNA is showing - she's playing 'dolls' with a bunch of cars. "Wook, mumma, it's a baby car. We need to take care of it." She DOES have dolls. She just prefers the cars. Bwahahaha. As for clothing, unless her bum is hanging out (or... other... parts), I don't intend to interfere. Ever. And the hair? Go for it. It grows out. Shave it, color it, spike it with wallpaper paste. I'll help. (Everybody's gotta rebel. Beats the hell outta drugs, unprotected sex, or drinking and driving.)
-Still looking into indigo vats. NOT the super-traditional ones that run on human urine... I don't dislike the neighbors THAT much. But I've read of several types that use different kinds of fermentation (yeast, bran), or yes, the chemically-activated ones where you remove the oxygen with the wonders of modern chemistry. Those seem like cheating, though. Maybe after we move, I'll do a vat to kind of introduce myself to the new neighborhood!
-Horse recipes in the French cookbook... none I've seen yet, and since it was written for the American audience (Imperial measurements), I don't expect to see them. I do know horse fat is considered THE frying medium for the original French Fries (actually Belgian Pommes Frites). No, I don't intend to eat pets. At least not until I'm A LOT hungrier than I am. (Never say never, but almost never.)
And now... well, the cat is snoring, the Goober is talking to Baby Twactow [tractor], and, geez, I think the husbeast is snoring too. Dinner will be ready in half an hour.
Yeah. Time to do some spinning.