I try not to tell too many "aren't my kids adorable?" stories. I mean, I know they're adorable, and most of you probably don't give a rat's ass about their latest pwecious widdle wemarks. (That's what grandparents are for.) But every once in a while comes a story so amusing that I think it crosses familial lines.
A few days ago, my kid's teacher gave the kids a map of the United States with no state names in it. They were told to try to write in the names of all the states they could. My kid was very proud when he wrote them all in, and handed his paper back to the teacher. She praised him for a job well done, but pointed out that he had transposed the names of Colorado and Wyoming. James, being (ahem) both competitive and anal-retentive (can't imagine where he got those traits from...), was a little irritated, and he said, "Well, I did get them all." As he walked away, my kid muttered under his breath, "When I'm president, I'm gonna switch those two states."
Welcome to my world.
Franklin gives good pod.
I listened to my first podcast yesterday. I tried downloading the latest broadcast of Cast-On, in which our beloved raconteur and all-around good guy Franklin is the guest host. I'd never heard a podcast before, and I wasn't sure I could even get it to play; instead of loading onto an Ipod, I downloaded onto my computer, then burned a CD so I could listen to it in the car. Shockingly, it worked exactly as I had hoped, and I listened to the podcast on my way into and home from my Rosie's shift yesterday.
I give the podcast two vigorous thumbs-up (and not just because Franklin mentioned my name and blog in it). I loved the intimacy of it, the way it sounded like Franklin was sitting in the car next to me, telling charming knitting stories. I liked the way the podcast featured essays from other writers, and an eclectic mix of songs (like when a friend gives you a "mix tape"). I will definitely be listening more to Cast-On.
RDA of Fiber
I finished another quickie scarf for the kids' silent auction. I'm about to turn my attention back to a cropped cardigan that I was working on in Classic Elite Premiere. It's embarassing to admit, but I find that when I put something down and work intensely on something else, I am almost bewildered when I return to the original project. Tonight, when the urchins are in bed, I'm going to sit down with the pieces (I've finished the back and am halfway through one of the fronts) and my notes and figure out where I am and where I'm going.
I've added a few more things to the Etsy shop. I've got some roving (I really should call it top, because that's what it is, but whenever I write "top" it looks so weird to me) -- two different greens and a golden-y orange one (named "Guacamole," "Butternut," and "Basil Leaves," respectively).
I've got a batch of laceweight in a gorgeous blue, sort of periwinkle-ish, which is my absolute favorite color in the world. This is another 880-yard skein, and I've been thinking about trying to knit something up myself in one of these skeins.
The other is a skein of fingering-weight merino, about 440 yards, in shades of a red (tomato red, not cool red). I've priced it a little lower than usual since I'm not crazy about the particular yarn I used and won't be using any more of it. I'm going to play with some other fingering-weight wools until I find something I like better. Don't get me wrong; it's still a nice skein and would make killer socks or a scarf. (I call the colorway "Bloody Mary.") It's really a dyeing thing, so don't hold it against the yarn. Besides, at a lower price, it'd be a great way to try my stuff...
Yesterday, at Rosie's, I found a Fiber Trends pattern for a very, very easy shawl knit in the round with lace edging; the laceweight version calls for 900 yds., so I'm going to give it a go and try to swatch today. I have held back an interesting-looking ball to play with myself, so I'll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, I am working on bigger batches of laceweight, for those of you who need more than 880 yards, which isn't enough for a really complex or large shawl.