Donnerstag, September 07, 2006

Adding injury to insult


My Welsh Country Sock is 2-3 rounds away from where I want to start the heel flap.



Note that I located the bag I wanted to keep it in. I had to buy a size 8 kids' T-shirt to get this bag.

Luckily I knew where to find a size 8 kid to give it to.

I would be all happy except that for some reason I keep poking the tip of that blamed #0 needle under my fingernail when I go to push the stitches up the needle. It's just like bamboo torture and it hurts like heck. And to make it worse, that finger tip already had a dry skin crack. I have put Superglue (TM) all over it.

Now I'm starting to feel even more inadequate over my lack of actual dyeing at the dyeing class on Saturday. Here is another roving that someone else dyed for me with my wool, namely Teri Jo.

Not sure where that green in the photo came from; it is really more aqua.

The reason so much of my wool got farmed out to other people to dye was that I brought a whole bin of it. This is just about the last of the fleeces that I bought before Y2K (remember Y2K?). I was convinced that the econmy would collapse and that we would be reduced to subsistance living. I began frantically buying fleeces so that I could weave blankets for my whole neighborhood.

After I had bought about ten fleeces I realized that there were several things wong with this picture:

1. I live in an affluent neighborhood and my neighbors already have blankets
2. Even if my neighbors did need the blankets, by the time I could spin enough yarn for the project, my neighbors would already have frozen to death
3. I don't know how to weave

Probably I ought to wash more fleece this weekend and take it to Spinderlla to be carded. My neighbors may not need blankets, but my friends always seem to need roving to dye!

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