Fiber College 2010

I spent the last four days at Fiber College on Penobscot Bay.  What did I learn?

I learned how to really spin a yarn from Rudy Amman, and also how my spinning wheel works, and that I am far behind in my wheel maintenance.  I walked in a beginner, I walked out with confidence and the tools to spin like Ellen.  From now on, I'm going to make Ellen Yarn.

I learned what makes a delicious photo from Mary Jane Mucklestone.  I brought my sweaters with me and a group of us ducked away to a dreamy little cabin in the woods, oceanfront, and we clicked away.

I learned how to insert a zipper in a sweater, Fred Rogers style, from Elizabeth Green Musselman.  Elizabeth also taught me how to make a killer knot, well actually, a frog closure, but I plan to put this knot everywhere in the near future.

I learned sweater construction using the percentage method from Jackie Fee.  I have had the pleasure of meeting Jackie on several occasions before, but this was the first time I have heard her full lecture.  If you have the opportunity, do not miss it - you will walk away an empowered knitter.

I learned to spin core spun and boucle yarns from Josette McWilliams.  All the rules went out the window.  I think I may have found my Ellen Yarn.

So, any one of these lessons learned would leave me merrily skipping down my creative path for days.  Possibly weeks.  Or months.  But they pale in comparison to the bigger experience at Fiber College, which is next to impossible to put into words. 

I discovered there are people with seemingly obscure obsessions like me.  I hula hooped.  While knitting.  For an hour.  And I wasn't alone.  I hugged for the first time an internet friend.  From Texas. I laughed loud and hard.  I lounged at the ocean's edge with a bottle of wine and another friend, her Airstream behind us.  I teetered down a dark path with a six pack, a cell phone as flashlight, led by a handy pointer finger on a stick.  I found a woman that reminded me of my mother's twin sister.  That has never happened.  I learned about living deep in the woods off the grid, but more importantly, how to face and embrace moving back into town with a sense of moving onward and upward. 

Thanks Astrig, from the bottom of my heart.

     

Yep, 10 More Things About Me

1. I have an autographed photo of Mr. Rogers.  He's wearing a zip up sweater knit by his Mom.
2. I'm working on a pattern for a sweater right now.  Actually, right now I'm taking a break so that I can stew over how to proceed with a centered motif that could end on exactly the same row as my sample, or in twelve other places.
3. I like to think that my stash of yarn really isn't that bad.  It's possible I'm fooling myself.
4. I don't care to talk about my stash of fabric, because that would be embarrasssing.
5. I have many, many crocheted afghans.  I didn't make them.  When I find them at the Salvation Army (with a tag reading Handmade for you by Doreen) I simply cannot leave them behind.  I'm like a Cat Lady, but with afghans. 
6. My husband and I played the "if we win the lottery" game the other day.  We (we ... ha) decided we would build a yarn factory, and a camp with studio classes to go with it.  And my brother-in-law could provide sheep, and wool.  (If we win the lottery my husband would probably be better served to find a younger woman with different fantasies.)
7. I have an old knitting machine.  I guess old is relative - I got it new when I was 16.  I don't know what that says about my age.
8. I can't remember how to use my knitting machine, and the directions are no longer with it.  I don't know what that says about my age either.
9. I have a printing press, and I used to make lots of tees and kids clothing.
10. When we win the lottery we'll need to spend the money on something else, because it seems I already have everything. 

10 More Random Things About Me

1. I like feet.  But I'm really not into knitting socks like so many other knitters.
2. A friend of mine owns a shoe company.  (Isn't that cool?) I am the sample size, so sometimes I get to be a fit tester. (Isn't that cool?)  Too bad I don't knit socks.
3. I am a sweater knitter.  I've probably already said that, but it bears repeating.
4. I have never once in my life had a drink of alcohol without someone joining me.  It's not that I think I'm going to go overboard (I'm not a big drinker, but I like a cocktail or two every now and again), it's just that I don't want to ruin my streak.
5. I drive an old Toyota with 178,000 miles on it. I want to see 250,000 with the ole girl. 
6. I knit in my car. Lots. It's more cost and time effective than driving home when my kids have an engagement (we live far far away), and it keeps me out of trouble, mostly.
7. This year I bought two huge lateral filing cabinets in an effort to consolidate a bunch of paperwork.  I have one bursting bucket to finish filing... and I am doubtful it will fit. 
8. Sometimes I have a hard time figuring out which papers are really important.
9. Here is a piece of artwork pertaining to sheep and sleep.  It was in the new file cabinet.  I thought it might be important.
10. (I think Little Bo Sheep might benefit from my "never drink alone" rule.)

 

 

Notes to Self

My head is full of ideas.  It always has been.  How to rework a pair of curtains, lining a pleated skirt, knitting on the bias, a bias cut shirt panel, hand painted scroll work on our old walls up north ...   My home is quiet for a spell and I am able to chew on my thoughts and really develop an idea ... and then it's gone. 

I was lamenting to my husband that I needed to write all this thinking down, but my attempts at keeping a sketchbook had failed.  More than once.  My husband, ringleader of techies (not to be confused with leader of the ring), carries a handful of 3 x 5 cards in his shirt pocket every day (thus, he always wears shirts with pockets).  Why not use 3 x 5 cards?  Brilliant.

Now I keep vintage planters all over the house filled with blank cards and a writing implement.  I jot down my idea and put it at the back of the stack. 

Meet the Family

When I was oh, about ten or eleven, I was sewing a blue and green giraffe print smock on my mother's sewing machine, a complicated sewing machine with plastic cams that would magically change the stitch to something really elaborate and useless. I was looking for a straight stitch, but what I was getting was a bird's nest of thread.  I fetched my Dad, fixer of all things, and he promptly gathered up the machine and all its fancy cams and toted it off to the store where it was purchased.  Apparently this was not the first time we had experienced issues with this machine. 

Chapter two of this story is hearsay, and it goes like this: 
Dad: My daughter was sewing her blue and green giraffe smock, and this machine is busted again.
Store Man: How old is your daughter?
Dad: Oh, ten or eleven.
Store Man:  You shouldn't let your daughter use this sewing machine.
(Dad's head gets all firey red, smoke seeps from his ears, and he says something smart to Store Man, something we all wish we could come up with in fits of anger.  He totes the busted machine to our gold Country Squire station wagon and heads to Mr. Oliver's Used Sewing Machine Store and Repair Shop.)

That afternoon my Dad came home with Regina, my very own sewing machine.  She sewed forward.  She sewed backward.  She sewed perfectly and incessantly.  She went to college.  She got married.

Then came Ken.  Ken was looking for a good home, and he found it.  He belonged to my husband's boss' wife, but was no longer needed.  But I needed him - for buttonholes, zigzag, and stretch stitch.  Even today Ken brings me security, a steadfast pal.

Vicky joined us during the knitwear era.  Childrens wear, polar fleece, all things washable.  She wowed us with her flying threads and knife throwing.  My husband is especially fond of her because of her Husqvarna heritage.

Meet Ruby, our olympic athlete.  She joined us when everything needed a slipcover.  Everything.  She's a chain stitching 5-thread Winner.

Show what's under your skirt, Ruby.  Why, is that a .5 horse power motor?  And a chute. Good Golly.

And Nina, our foster sewing machine.  She lives here, but she has another family.  And she is loved.  She's our MVP, the all-around player that can tackle any job. Without her, we are a losing team.

Rumor has it Mr. Oliver still had that crappy cam sewing machine in his store room when he died.  

10 Random Things About Me

1. I knit.  I sew.  I draw.  I dye. 
2. I tend to go deep into research and discovery on one endeavor at the time, for an extended period.  Sometimes I think so hard I can't switch gears.  I am a monotasker.
3. I have wicked curly hair.
4. I was born in Georgia.  But now I live in New Hampshire.
5. My parents were born in Georgia and Alabama.  But now they live in New Hampshire.
6. I live next door to my parents.
7. I don't like to swim. 
8. I have a swimming pool.  It's an above ground pool, but we set it up on a hill, so it feels like it's a level ground pool.
9. If our pool ever gives way, we need to call my parents quick, because they live at the bottom of the hill.
10. I love cake.

Some folks have a list of 100 things.  I'm going to do them ten at the time on random occasions.  Otherwise nothing else will get done (see Thing 2).

  11.  I have trouble leaving well enough alone.

NH Sheep and Wool Booty

I finished writing my mitten pattern on Friday, and met my self-imposed deadline.  I had a large pile of people in my home on Saturday - it was good to have my week's focus not be solely party prep.  And my reward on Sunday was a day at the New Hampshire Sheep and Wool Festival.

I quickly searched out a roving, a merino from Abi's Web.  I scurried to the Building 13 and spun with the NH Spinners and Dyers Guild.  I was demonstrating what a newbie spinner looks like.

Closures on my sweaters need to speak to me.  I love them most when they are either vintage or handmade. 

Jan Marek Raczkowski (ma sheep&wool, May 29&30) had a great selection of carded vintage buttons.