a simple yarn

Note: The following is another non-holiday-season-diversional post to sidetrack the extended family from my Christmas work.

So Daughter-Kate has gone through another phase of knitting. Eyelash yarn has that effect on her. First it was a pink-purple-red-eyelash-scarf-that-was-too-wide, and so we gave it away as one of the squares for the Knitted Picnic blanket for charity. Next it was a green-red-triangle-which-became-a-watermelon-slice also given as food for the Knitted Picnic.

Right, observant readers will notice that I have this habit of giving away the things my daughter knits….

Feeling a tad guilty about that, I gave her some Twilley’s Freedom Wool in a nice red-purple-orange combination. She knit up a very cool scarf for herself…that I resisted giving away for Christmas! She was understandably pleased enough with her work that she began a scarf for her bear, Elizabeth, who has been a constant companion of late.

Elizabeth, modeling Kate’s scarf
So, the question becomes, is it considered ‘hoarding’ to have a yarn stash that a) most probably has more stock than the local yarn shop and b) is large enough that your child can go shopping for project supplies without leaving the house? When I see her working away at it, I’d have to say it’s well worth it.

To understand the signifiance of the following, you first have to understand that I am not genetically wired to shop.

Question: So what do you do when you’ve had a really dreadful warping experience and it’s the last day of summer holidays?

Answer: Take your daughter to the city for a little retail therapy. Hey, it’s still cheaper than counseling….

For me:  new comfy winter clogs and the next series for the end-of-the-day-aaahhh-cappuccino-moment; for Kate:  comfort bath fizzies and new dollhouse animals; for Alex:  his last school book (don’t think he’ll be happy about that!)Postscript: Before you get too sympathetic about the shortage of goodies for Alex, he was not suffering at a birthday party, busily filling his system with every type of sugar-sucrose-glucose-sweet-tasting-stimulant known to boy.

Murphy’s Law…not something I want to be too well acquainted with but….I have to say, it makes for an interesting 100th post.

Warning:  Etymological Diversion Ahead:
Although I’m a resident of Ireland, Ireland has little to do with it. Murphy’s Law (’If anything can go wrong, it will’) was born at Edwards Air Force Base in 1949 at North Base. It was named after Capt. Edward A. Murphy, an engineer working on Air Force Project MX981, (a project) designed to see how much sudden deceleration a person can stand in a crash. One day, after finding that a transducer was wired wrong, he cursed the technician responsible and said, ‘If there is any way to do it wrong, he’ll find it.’ The contractor’s project manager kept a list of “laws” and added this one, which he called Murphy’s Law.
-excerpted from The Desert Wings, March 3, 1978

I may have to add a ‘law’ to the list which says, ‘If members of the Weaver’s Guild are coming to your house, then the warp you are currently putting on your loom will go horribly wrong.’

So the Irish Guild of Weavers, Spinners and Dyers are coming to my house for a meeting on Saturday. First time. They’ve never seen a Kessenich loom and so will be quite interested, I think, to look at mine. Nothing on the loom at present. How boring. Need to warp it up anyway for aforementioned festive holiday work. So, killing the proverbial two birds with the one stone, I began to dress the loom today.

Well, there was no ‘ho-ho-ho’-ing in my house this afternoon. And Murphy, along with his whole list of laws, took up residence, feeling quite at home.

It started with this innocent cone of wool. Got it at Avoca’s annual leftovers sale. Avoca’s the oldest continuous handweaving company in Ireland, since, I don’t know, late 1600s maybe? Anyway, you’d think that by the 21st century, they’d have made it a habit to select good warp threads. Not necessarily so.

I should have known something was amiss after winding the first half of the warp. In taking it off the warping board and making the chain-to-prevent-total-chaos, the threads, as if they were trying to make a prison break, began thwoinging every which way. I should have turned back at that very moment, but whether it was ignorance or arrogance, I kept going.

Well, I got it on the back and lease sticks. Would the chain come easily undone? Nope. Would the threads slide easily through the lease sticks? Nope. Did I have to untie and retie the cross no less that three times? Yep. Did the previous attempt at a thready-prison-break work? Yep. Did the remaining threads begin fraying, pilling and balling? You bet.

Thwoing-my word for the day.

The more I worked, the worse it became. At one point I subcontracted for extra hands with Husband-Will and Daughter-Kate standing patiently while I finger-combed the mounting mess. Have you ever taken a comb through dredlocks?

We wound until we could go no further. Cut my losses. Salvaged what I could. And at my feet lay a pile of lifeless thread. Crappity-doo-dah.

What’s left on the loom looks fairly respectable, if you don’t look too closely. But I know there are perilous times ahead…I’m sure they’re still figurin’ to break free when I’m not lookin’.

The one nice moment of the day lay in these beauties. Nice little clamps from B&Q. For being such mini things, they have amazing strength to clamp my warping boards to the kitchen table and to likewise secure my raddle to the back beam. Just wish they could have been strong enough to keep my threads in check…

So, for my troubles, Eternally-Thoughtful-Daughter-Kate made me a cup of tea. And here’s to an interesting 100th tale.

Ahem, excuse me, but will everyone who is related to me either by blood or by marriage, please close your eyes for the next 2 paragraphs? Thank you.

Okay, I’m in a bit of a pickle. I’d love to show you the current projects I’m working on, but, well…… they’re intended to be ‘parcels-posted-for-the-festive-mid-winter-celebratory-experience-involving-holly-and-ivy-and-plum-puddings-with-brandy-sauce.’ (For you who are not relatives, that’s British Isles code talk to throw off the family who are hopefully not peeking at this point!)

So, you can see my dilemma…the challenge to post pictures of works in progress without tipping off the fam about their Christmas pressies. Got to work hard at either a) creatively giving surreptitious clues while keeping relatives in the dark, b) coming up with other non-festive-project-related blog content, c) hiring techno-hit-men to block internet access for family for next 3 months or so, d) tap into my Scrooge-side and upload cool pics anyway. Sigh. A blogging conundrum.

Right, so for today it’s options a) and b).

Stylised pictoral clue of current work in progressNow for option b)….non-festive topic…kiddies.

And like almost every other parent in the world at large, I make the following statement to no one’s surprise…I am ready for my kids to go back to school. It’s been a nice summer, to be sure, but the frequency of hearing ‘I’m bored and have nothing to do,’ is on the rise, accompanied by perpetually hanging 2 inches from my left elbow, necks craned to see what I’m busy doing. Well, that’s gotta stop. If you are a fortunate parent who has already bid your children good-bye as they trot off to teachers, packed lunches and recess, I envy you. My day is coming on Friday. Yippee! Although……Kiddie-Daughter and Kiddie-Son will be returning at noon that day.

In the eternal wisdom that is the education system in Dublin, my children will go to school for a total of three hours on Friday, their first day of school, and then promptly return home for the weekend. Hmmm…..and that’s counted as a school day.

Ah well, even so, I am busily preparing them for the blessed event. And this year, we’re doing it eco-style! In addition to purchasing recycled pencils and rulers made from re-processed styro cups, I have found book covering ‘plastic’ that is not plastic. It’s made of 100% corn. And no, it does not melt in the rain. Nope…it looks like plastic, acts like plastic, but is 100% sustainable.

Natural book cover & the Irish language
So hopefully the Kiddies will not only learn about the three Rs…reading, ‘riting and ‘rithmetic, but also reduce, reuse, and recycle!

In spite of family sadness, other events of this past weekend were quite encouraging. Of course, they did involve bringing home a little fibre…

So, Fibre-Friend-Holly and I, along with two of her feltmaking friends, jumped into the car for a 2-1/2 hour drive to Northern Ireland for the first-ever Festival of Sheep and Wool 2006. Thankfully, good conversation makes time go by much faster!

By US standards, the show was small, but the quality of fleece was good and prices acceptable, even if they were in British Sterling, where the US Dollar usually takes a beating.

The goodies I chose…all very reasonable I’d say…included one smallish fleece. A Gotland-Merino mix. Do I know what that is? Of course Merino. Yum. Soft. Gotland? Don’t know much about it. Sounds like a goat breed with a typo. After a little research and here’s what I know:
Also Known By: Swedish Fur, Swedish Pelt The Gotland is found throughout Sweden. It is kept for its pelt and meat production. The Gotland were developed from Gute selected for curl and color beginning in 1920. The breed is primarily gray.

Well mine is a bit whiter, having been bred with a merino, I suppose. And thus my knowledge of fleece ends. Full stop. Other than that, to me it is soft and I’m envisioning some super socks coming off my needles.

(And here is where I have to divert…..)
I am in awe of those spinners who understand the various sheep breeds and what that means, the length of the fleece and what that means, how the fibre reacts and interacts and what that means, the best spin to put into it and what that means, the intricacies of plying and what that means! Know what I mean?

Perhaps I should want to know all of that, but I don’t right now. I’ll stumble through and end up with acceptable yarn to knit my warm, soft socks. And I’m happy and content in my ignorance… Ironically, it’ll probably be that this is some rare type of breed and I’m handling the equivalent of fibre gold where other spinners are reading this in abject horror at my casual approach to this treasure. And such are the inequities of life…. So, I’ll carefully soak the fleece today (as Holly says it felts easily) and see where we end up with it.

Other than that, a hook for the spinning wheel found its way home with me. As I said, reasonable wouldn’t you agree?

The ride home was certainly quieter as the fatigue of the early morning departure and the day’s overstimulation set in. But it was a contented quietness.

It is perhaps an overused analogy, but a true one nonetheless, that it is the dark threads of the tapestry that give depth to the woven work, much like the darker times in our lives give depth to our character. I do not suppose it will surprise you that our recent ‘death in the family…even if only a pet…gives cause for today’s reflection…

And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.
‘The first day’ after yesterday’s trauma has been a better day. Outside the sun is shining and the rain clouds have passed. The kids have had a good night’s sleep and in the daylight things don’t seem so bleak.

Kate has spoken when she needed to share. She has wept when she needed to cry. She has found solitude when she needed to be alone. She had foresworn ever having another rabbit, but now speaks of perhaps a gray bunny ‘next time.’ Today she has smiled, even laughed. A very healthy walk through childhood grief.

Is it because she’s a kid and kids are seemingly so resilient? Perhaps in small measure, but I believe it is more that she believes life is not left to chance nor fate nor a capricious being dealing out pain in some cosmic experiment, but simply that God is good and He is infinitely capable of caring for her, in happiness and tears, light threads and dark, joys and sorrows.

With childlike trust, and because there is no reason not to, she takes Him at His word when He says, ‘Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.’ (Second Epistle to the Corinthians, chapter 1, verses 3-5)

Today I journeyed to Northern Ireland with friends and acquaintances for a wool and sheep show. It began as a relatively ‘normal’ morning…

My mobile rang.
Husband-And-Papa-Will said briefly, ‘Can you talk?’
‘Sure,’ I replied.
‘We’ve had a tragedy…’

And so ended ‘normal.’

Our beloved bunny Fern was tragically killed by an invader to our tranquil back garden. And our beloved Daughter-Kate is understandably heartbroken. Frankly, so am I.

But as Kate could not protect Fern from pain, neither can I protect Kate from the pain that will come into her life.

I feel so helpless.

But my daughter has deep reserves of strength and she is grieving well. And so together, Kate and I post our final farewell to Fern…..in memoriam.

Note:  As the next few days are busier than normal, I’m combining a few food related bits and pieces into one post and we’ll see you in a few days.

Pesto Postscript
Do you recall a ‘Seinfeld’ episode where George’s rant of the day went something like this…’What is it about pesto? Everybody likes pesto. I try to like pesto. I just don’t like pesto.’

Frankly, I don’t know if everybody likes pesto. I’ve never really had too much experience with it, but when you a) get a handful of fresh basil from the organic delivery service (which calls it a vegetable, by the way, oh right, I already said that once…) and b) get a sheet of paper giving you a pesto recipe and c) have made a commitment to expand the family’s dinner palette….you make pesto.

Food stylin’ photo, especially for Holly
Result…a very fresh and tasty twist to the regular-weekday-easy-to-make-spaghetti-night. Was a hit with Daughter but Son is a pasta purist, no sauce, nothin’. Anyway, why not share the recipe, just in case you have some fresh basil delivered to your door?!40 grams (1-1/2 oz) pine nuts
1-2 garlic cloves, crushed
40 grams (1-1/2 oz) Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
50 grams (2 oz) basil leaves (although I only had 1 oz it was ok)
150 ml (1/4 pint) light extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper

Put pine nuts and garlic into food processor and give it a brief burst of processing. It shouldn’t be totally smooth, but have a slight texture. Add the Parmesan and basil. Mix. Add oil. Check the seasoning adding salt and pepper as needed. Serve as needed or store in refrigerator in airtight container, covered with a little oil to retain colour. Will keep for 1 month. Once container is opened, it should be used in 2-3 days. (I’m not too fussy and don’t have a food processor so I just chopped everything up, threw together in a bowl and stirred.)

Right, so we boiled up some fusilli, mixed in the pesto and topped with a simple tomato sauce cooked with freshly chopped tomatoes (also in the veg delivery) and pessata (crushed tomato sauce). Didn’t need a really seasoned sauce as the pesto was seasoning enough!

And presto….pesto.

And With That Pesto Goes….

Baguettes. The latest victim in my ‘can-I-make-this-instead-of-buying-it’ outlook. The Kiddies voted it a success, but now I’m thinking I’ll need to add another 4 or 5 hours to each day for the all baking I should be doing!

Mystery Veg

Right, so the organic fruit and veg delivery came this week. And yes, I had to ring ‘em to ask what a certain that curly mass was, sitting in front of me. Had a guess, but wasn’t sure. Hard to cook something up when you haven’t yet identified it! So, yes, they confirmed it as curly kale. Hmmm…..don’t really have any recipes to hand for that one. Drat.

Also, you may notice only four vegetables here, rather than the five I order. They forgot the cucumber for the week. Drat again.

As an added stumper, they also forgot to leave a nice little recipe leaflet. But, thanks to modern technology, an emailed copy comes to the rescue. So, in the spirit of experimentation, we are now adding Kale and Leek Pie to this evening’s barbeque. And that, like Irish-weather-for-outdoor-events, may have a very unpredictable result.

You’ve heard of the red car syndrome, haven’t you? I buy a red car and, behold, the scales fall off of my eyes and I now see the millions of red cars on the road, which I never knew were there before! For me, it was Ralph Waldo Emerson who began it, not that I’m saying Emerson drove a red car…

…but what I am saying is that his quote, ‘All life is an experiment,’ has opened my eyes to seeing the weekly, daily or hourly experiments in life that bring about interesting, and many times unexpected, results. And so, after Life Experiment No. 1: Vegetables, I stumbled into another one yesterday.

Labels
Perhaps I’m wrong, but I don’t think I’m a label-monger. By that I mean I dont particularly purchase something because of the label it bears. Mind you, I like quality and don’t aim to purchase junk, but the label itself is incidental to me. (Okay…I think I have to amend that statement were I to be totally forthcoming….espresso has to be Lavazza. The Italians just know how to do cappuccino!) Right, so besides the espresso issue, most other areas of my life are not dominated by labels.

And so it was I approached the spinning wheel acquisition. Didn’t have much money to lay out for one, especially after shipping the loom. Have a weaving demonstration gig coming up that will bring in a little cash. Bought what I could afford. Then Husband-Will put it together for me:

I have to be honest that as he did, my heart did a little flump and thoughts randomly flitted through my brain to the tune of ‘you’ve been ripped off…some schmuck put this together in his garage with the Craftsman tool set he got for Christmas and you’re a schmuck for buying it when you could’ve saved your shekels and bought a real wheel….you get what you pay for, so there!’

Why not a Louet? Or an Ashford? Or any other name brand rather than this home-made monstrosity! Will other, real spinners look at my wheel and snigger? Labels.

A bit of adjustment here and fine tuning there and I sat down to have a trial run. Baited breath.

Do you know that thing spun a bit of roving like a dream? (At least in my I’m-so-untrained-I’m-probably-just-blowin’-smoke-opinion) And, as I got to looking at it in my work-room-formerly-known-as-the-living-room, I really like the not-quite-full-size-ness of it. Low profile, like the loom, so it doesn’t overwhelm the room. Granted, it’s a little off-beat and certainly isn’t mainstream, but I think that’s what I like about it! Pfft, I’m such a dope for all of my ‘what-will-others-think’ paranoia.

Most importantly, though, do you know the label I’ve learned to like best about it? Paid in full.

There is a postcard…perhaps you have seen it that depicts an Irish traffic jam. It’s a herd of sheep on a tiny-one-and-a-half-lane-narrow-road.

Ha! Usually, as I sit in a real wall-to-wall-cork-of-cars in the daily traffic jam, I wonder where the postcard author is at that very moment. And I have to admit, I’m hoping he’s out there in the bottle-necked mess somewhere with me!

But today I experienced it. I lived the postcard….sort of.

I was going from one meeting to another. Decided the quickest route was to avoid the motorway and take the small and narrow, winding road across the mountain.

Masses of purple, heather-filled hills of Sally Gap
I run across (please note I said ‘run across’ not ‘run over’) a group of free-range sheep on the verge. ‘On the verge of what?’ my American friends may ask. On the boundary-free grass ‘verge’ by the side of the road.
These free and easy fellas don’t seem bothered by the occasional road traffic.

And even join in themselves.

So, while this isn’t an everyday occurrence, as the postcard would have you believe, perhaps there is a grain of truth in that Irish stereotype…

Worthy of a-second-post-in-one-day, the following, however, has no theme nor unifying thread, nothing other than capturing two memorable family moments…

What you see here is Nine-Year-Old-Daughter-Kate’s handiwork. She worked diligently on this today while I was out. She managed the decreases on her own and cast it off. I am amazed. It proudly joins the other knitted food for the Electric Picnic.

After all the arguments I have refereed and all the bickering I have endured and all the sibling rivalry I have witnessed, this is a picture of hope.

Serendipity:  noun, the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

I am so glad that today I bought this.

Because when I got home, I found this.

And inside, there was this.

And under that, there was this.

I will need Wonderful-Husband-Will to help me put it together. But not today, because he was busy making this.

And so, to my blog tagline, I can now add this.
…spin…