Butter wouldn't melt.......

Now.




But we didn't 'alf 'ave fun in the night. Why was only she there? What had happened to him And to make sure that I was really there, the game was to wake me up by jumping on to my bedside cabinet and knocking various items on to the floor - noisily - to wake me up.

But I love them really. Despite last night's shenanigans, and despite this being hunting season with a vengeance! I even did what I absolutely never ever do and let out a gawdalmighty yell the other evening, but anyone would if they thought as I did that the creature seemingly running directly at me across the floor (brought in by maelstrom of cat that had just entered the room) was a rat and not what it actually was - a bluetit. And there is an endless stream of ex baby rabbits, or parts thereof. Little buggers. The cats, not the rabbits. The trouble is, I am secretly proud of them because they defy the notion of soppy siamese too effete to left a paw except to scoop up caviar. Just how wrong can people be......

And where was himself? Out on someone's leaving do jolly in Blackpool, and given that the festivities revolved around beer and curry, I was, shall we say, not sorry that he wasn't coming home.

Progress report: the silk that went in to a madder dye pot is probably the worst so far (since the first effort! I am definitely finding the bricks harder to scour, I shan't do any more but concentrate on tops. The colour is not as intense as I had wanted either. Now I have to decide whether to put it in for another go or not.

Freyalynn's orange yarn is being knitted and it is not falling apart. It looks ok so far.

And - tomorrow we go on a road trip to Melton Mowbray........

gw

Perplexed of West Yorkshire

So, as I aforementioned, we set of like good little voters to the meeting along the valley. Arrive in good time, so as to get a place in the hall, anticipating a goodly turnout as this is a marginal. First clue: no cars in the carpark. And so on - doors closed, lights of, no posters or notes on doors. We turn around and go home, in haste, check local paper.

Yes, we did have the right day, time and place, according to the local rag. So we turn around and zoom back, getting there at a couple of minutes past the given hour. And it was exactly the same situation.

So, see why I am perplexed? Was there a meeting elsewhere? Had the local rag got it wrong? Had all the candidates lost their bottle? Sadly, we may never know. But never let it be said that for once, we did not take our democratic duty seriously!

Back to fibre. I'm trying knitting with the variegated orange singles spun from the top that Freyalynn dyed. I didn't think it would work, but it looks as if it is going to - I thought for a long time about weaving with it, but looking at my rigid heddle, the yarn would have been at severe risk of abrading badly. This might just work. We shall see.

I have a large pot of silk and soy silk dyed with logwood cooling, and looking as if it has worked out well, too. Madder next, probably with an acid shift to get more of an orange than a rose.

Then, I have been working on proposals for a couple of articles, one of which is to be about Woolfest 2005. I didn't have any images to go with it, so did a google search. I found some lovely ones of Cockermouth, which made me feel - well, I'm not quite sure what. Assuming that this works,the blue painted shop that you can see in both images is the shop that I used to run with a friend. And in the Castlegate one, if you "walk" up the hill to the left to the green painted house, well that is where my friend Marianne used to live. I had many a cup of coffee inside there. I would give a lot to have a cup of coffee with her now, but - well, she died several years ago now, and I still miss her. Ah, well, c'est la vie.....





Cockermouth was always a pretty town, but it looks as though the powers that be have decided to go up market, and paint everything - looks good to me. It is going to be interesting going back.

Oh, pooh. I have been unable to see my hit counter for several days now, so decided to try another one. Which I have done, and can see it ok, but also the little advertising thingy. That might drive me bananas. Requires thought, but not now.

Sigh.

gw

Um......

Which means, "I can't think of a snappy heading for this post".

Could have been "Progress", I suppose. For instance, the CVM shawl is finished! No photo yet, I want to wash and block it, but it is in fact quite a nice, plain brown, useful shawl. Tucks around the shoulders in an admirable manner, and I will try keeping it downstairs ready to whip around same when I have one of my cold fits. (Oh, I do so miss the days of yore when I had hot -for want of a better word - fits!) The reason for the "try" being Max, of course!

Then, I have, amazingly, been successful - in as far as it was anything to do with me - in selling an invalid scooter on eBay for my ma-in-law. It has not netted her much profit, but has achieved the main objective of finding someone to take it away for her, and without her having to pay. So instead, she has said that I can have a book of my choice - what a sweetie! - as my reward, not that I needed one. I am going to be very, very good and not order the most expensive volume that catches my eye on Amazon, but just get a nice mid-price hardback of some kind. I'm thinking beading or knitting, here.

(Pause for a mutter - the DSM has just got out his Pumpkin Harvest fibre from last year's SOAR, you know, the one I spun and was wondering what to do with - left it sitting right by me, he has, tempting me. 'Snot fair, whine, grumble....)

Then again - I have done the quebracho green soy silk, seems ok, or will be when dry and fluffed. I still have more fibre I can dye, so I went and had a look at my dyestuffs, and found that I had a lot left from workshops last year. So I am going to move on from extracts to the hard stuff, beginning with logwood.

Here are the quebracho green (ok, ok, bronze if you are being polite and goose shit green if you are not) on silk and the lac on soy - all scruffy and runkled. Soy silk is definitely harder to control, although it dyes well and comes up feeling very....well, silky (sorry!) I usually take photos on a neutral/plain ground, but I was so struck by the similarities between the colours when I dumped these on the spare bed, that I left them as was.



Spent a little time yesterday working on the next beaded doodle, and it is coming up very well if I says so myself. This one looks like a highly stylized flower.



So, I need to go get a meal prepared that can sit while we go out to a...Political Meeting. There is a four-way thing in town this evening, all the candidates except the BNP one. For which relief much thanks - I don't know whether he was asked and declined (I imagine so) or if he wasn't asked. But even in the interests of soi-disant democracy, I couldn't bear to be in the same room as such a one. For some reason, it is looking like a good idea to go, although I wonder if we will feel the same after the event? (Oh! Cynic!!)

gw

Plodding on

Which is a dam'fool thing to say, really, it is simply that I am not doing anything out of the ordinary. Just usual stuff and nowt wrong with that.

Usual stuff at present being still spinning the brightly coloured merino/tencel mix, I did not get it all finished when I had hoped after all - I am spinning it fairly fine, and it takes a surprising long time. Nearly there on that one, though. Then, the CVM shawl, which keeps hitting snags. You would not think that I could make so many mistakes in such a simple "pattern", but there you go. That's me and knitting for you. Yesterday, I noticed that my yarn overs had moved two separate jogs to the left. How?? Well may you ask. I had placed a marker, but in such a way that it was actually at the YO, so it had wiggled under a couple of times. Whilst chatting with a friend, of course - serves me right for not concentrating properly on either her or the knitting. Now, I knew that I had heard about unknitting a stitch down and taking it back up within the body of the work, which seemed a much better idea than frogging, as the shawl is getting quite wide. But I had absolutely no clue how to do this. So, how fortunate is it to have a dearly beloved life partner (this is called buttering up) who is a better knitter than wot one is? Dear soul, he sat and did it for me. Actually, I must get him to show me how to do it for myself, it can't be so very difficult, can it? Whatever, I am on my merry way again. Yes, another shawl, and very plain work. But gives me time to ponder on - what to do next. Something rather more challenging. Gawd knows what.....

Now. The dyeing continues, and really, is going pretty well. At the moment, one small step at a time, in other words I am taking around 150gm of either silk or soy silk, heating it up in slightly soapy water, leaving overnight, next day dyeing with at present, a natural dye extract, leaving overnight again, and then washing. Ends up looking like this:



This is quebracho red on silk. Came up very nicely. I have drying more lac, that worked this time, on soy silk, and just done today, quebracho green on silk. This is lovely, a greeny bronze, the lac quite nice, but it was harder to rinse, so the top is more disturbed. Photos soon, for the record. then I have to decide just how this experiment is going - do I continue with the extracts, or try some dyes in their raw state? I also want to expand the colour range a bit, I need an orange-tawny, and some purple, and, yes, blue. I keep putting off doing indigo because it is somewhat hard to get the colour right through the fibre, and I can't decide how to do it - risk doing just a very well wetted-out top,leaving it in the vat for quite a long time, which would be ok with silk or soy, I think. Or investing in a pair of "proper" rubber gloves, and doing the under the surface squeezy thing? Decisions, decisions, laissez-faire or bring on the Marigolds?

All the brouhaha about the pope seems to have died down for the moment. Quite interesting just how fascinated we have all been by this archaic ritual. Takes our mind off real life, I suppose. A debate rages about whether or not whoever it turned out to be would or would not affect all our lives. Directly - not at all. Indirectly? Opinion is moving inexorably in a direction I find disturbing, shall we say. Has been doing so for quite a time, won't stop any time soon. But one day - well, the breeze keeps blowing, the windmill turning, the beck running. (Around these parts, anyway.) Ach, I'm blethering! Time for a cup of tea, and a listen to Radio 7 where there are no news bulletins so I can avoid the horrors of the election campaign. Did we say nasty? Feh.

gw

Across the river and into the trees

Upfront: precious little of a fibery nature going on around here the last couple of days. Yesterday was guild, and a slightly strange, mixed sort of a meeting. A workshop that did not grab me, for many reasons that I will not go in to here, so, feeling considerably guilty, I took my wheel and spun me some pretty colours. In the event, plenty of people did do the activity, all was respectable, all was ok, in that wise. However, it was one of those days when several people seemed to have cares and woes spilling out all over the place, and I picked up the vibes, as I do, all too easily. Some should grow up, some should tell their significant others to grow up, for some there is nothing to do but offer quiet sympathy, and that is fine. No, I'm not grousing, it is all part of life's rich pattern, to coin a cliche.

Today, today, Sunday, Sunday. Out to lunch again. But first - we woke up to a very pretty golden morning, and considerably warmer than the night had been. I was looking out of the window watching the sheep and lambs. I do this a lot during the spring season that they are in the meadow opposite the house. Two lambs (said my eyes) were racing down the meadow to join the others at this end. No, no (said my brain) not lambs, too fast, wrong jiz...finally eyes and brain got themselves working together (it was an interesting example of how the brain first interprets incoming information from previously received data, and then adjusts to actual input) and I realised that what I was watching was two roe deer tearing towards me, veering right and fording the river, then disappearing into the wood n the other side. It was a lovely sight.

So, after coffee with H (ain't we the social animals) we put on our finery, ie wellies and Barbours, and trudged over the bridge and up the river path to a very overindulgent and lengthy lunch with other friends. It was very civilised, plenty of good food and alcohol (although I am not totally convinced about Watermelon Bacardi Breezers....) and plenty to talk about, including discovering a shared passion for children's literature of the 60's and 70's. We tottered home bearing a large carrier bag of snowdrops in the green and another of K. M. Peyton novels.

Now, not having to even consider cooking this evening, I can devote myself to finishing the colourful spinning and doing a little more on the shawl, which is progressing but slowly because of the circ I am having to use. I need an Addi turbo!

gw

One cup good, two cups better

Of tea, that is. I'm halfway down the second (very large) cup, and can feel the rehydration. That's the problem - I have been teaching today, and couple talking, dashing around, a slightly over-warm room and not drinking enough....get the picture?

There is a debate going on elsewhere on the net about spinners versus weavers. Well, I don't really mean as in textile rugby, or tag wrestling, but as in a lot of spinners I know feel that some weavers regard them as second class citizens. It's a really good debate, but I can't put in a link to it as it's a private list. However, I ran it past my class, and the response was a huge roar of "YES", quite heartfelt it was. So my perception that people still thought like that is right (it doesn't mean that weavers really do &etc, but that some spinners think they do, if you see what I mean.)

Now, if that last sounded less coherent than usual, its because I was interrupted in my ramblings by a phone call - my Timbertops wheel is going to be ready in a couple of weeks! That is much sooner than I had expected, and - well, YIPPEE!!! Now to break the news to the DSM that we have to make yet another road-trip....

Today is obviously my day - one of the participants in my class brought with her huge sackfuls of the most luscious alpaca fleece. A friend of hers owns these beasts, and apparently they are her babies, they get shampooed, and the best of everything. Lovely silky fibre, good staple length, fabulous colours. Please excuse the drooling. Thus far, I have some soft pale beige, and some silver to mid grey. But I brought two huge sackfuls home with me to take to Guild tomorrow, and I can see some more even paler beige in the top of one, and who knows what may lurk beneath....I deserve this, I really do!

gw

Plodding along.

Which is what I do when I have had yet another less than perfect night. Grr. Is it my age?? The three snoring creatures I share my bed with?? (There are four of us at it, but I don't hear myself, do I?) It could well be the relatively new dammit mattress. But last night, it was probably me talking about aforementioned RNDM with the DSM, and me daring to suggest that we might have to spend some serious money and his reaction to that and........

But I wouldn't have done much creative fibre or other work today anyway, as I have a class to teach on Friday, and fairly little clue as to what to say about tencel and ramie, other than here they are, this is how they are made/grown/look, nice, aren't they?

Jaded? Moi?

It will be ok. I will take along a handful of lovely spindles as well (secondary subject) and I can get very enthusiastic and lyrical about them, so all will be well. I need to talk about the programme for the next few months too, plus I can spend a decent amount of time with the one or two less experienced people who I know will be there. I always obsess about it and it is always ok if not damn fine. What an idiot!

This:

is supposed to be forming a birthday card for the friend turning sixty, but I cocked it up. I thought I had lots of aperture cards, found out at the weekend that I didn't, hastily ordered some from an eBay shop, thinking that they would go into the post on Monday and be here...and it hasn't happened. So, I use one that is a little too large, and get the placement wrong, so It Won't Do. Fortunately, I will be able to salvage the beadwork to go in to a smaller card - could send it to M as a belated, I guess, or see what my lady mother makes of it.

I was sad to see that to the names of the great and famous who have died lately we must add that of Andrea Dworkin. I can't claim to have read much of her work, and I can see why she attracted the vilification that she did - she told the world things that it really did not want to hear, in a way guaranteed to make it listen briefly and make it tear her to shreds. But I had admiration for her, for her intelligence and her bravery. Make of that what you will.

gw