Thursday, March 05, 2009

Crazy Yarn Whisperer Skillz...we haz dem.

Yes, that is me wielding a CROCHET HOOK (while Teri slaved away trying to detangle enough for the hook to keep hooking! My first yarn adventures were hooking back when I was about 8 yrs old. My grandmother is an amazing crocheter. AMAZING crocheter. I'm a ripple crocheter. On a good day. And I have a habit of forgetting and then one side of the ripple grows wider and one smaller. Ah well. My crocheting grandma is in her late 80's and still going strong. She makes afghans that are works of art. I think the lowest one of her afghans have gone at an auction is $400. LOWEST. Seriously an amazing woman. This amazing woman is giving me a lot of her library of patterns as she downsizes to the retirement home she now lives in. I'm trying to honor her and her gifts to our family by reuniting with the hook. I'm so thankful that her hands are still going strong. Please let me be blessed with that gift as well. We really REALLY don't want to see me as a grumpy old lady NOT ABLE TO KNIT or crochet. It's the only thing that keeps me from losing my mind attacking random people in the street. OK, more like attacking those I share a home with. :) It just sounds less lock-her-up-in-a-white-jacket with the random people part.

ANYWAY. I pulled out some yarn from years and years ago. It was one of those mighty mighty skeins of old acrylic yarn. I mean OLD and I mean ACRYLIC. Not acrylic like today's soft and supple acrylic yarns. No. I mean SQUEAKY and pulling shards of plastic bits out of your fingers old acrylic yarn. Not only was it horrid and old, but apparently the last time I'd attempted to use this monster skein I'd frogged an afghan, wrapping it willy nilly around the outside of the skein. Not a problem with the Yarn Whisper around. BUT after the yarn whisperer did her whispering (and a bit of HOLY CRAP WHAT DID YOU DO TO THIS YARN WOMAN-ing) I was able to crochet enough for the 10 bands of off-white plastic between the colored strips. Teri's unraveling skills are truly amazing.

The next night, the matted up skein of plastic started calling to me. Husband was traveling, kids were in bed early reading books, I had an ENTIRE EVENING of unspoiled knitting time ahead of me. Time to finish the 2nd sleeve on my orange cardigan. Time to work on one of the two lacey scarves on the needles. Time to swatch for new projects and designs in my head. Well, what did I spend the entire evening AND until 3am doing? Pulling bits of this crap yarn and following tails until I got the whole damn thing straightened out. Now I love me some good unraveling of yarn. I actually ENJOY unpicking mohair sweaters. I'm strange that way. I have no problem spending good time saving good yarn. At 1:30am I actually told myself OUT LOUD, "Self, you are spending precious hours on something that MAYBE cost $3 FIFTEEN YEARS AGO! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? It was like an obsession. (Hard to obssessed, huh?) Let's just say that I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open today, but I have 3 big ass cakes of plastic just waiting for me to crochet away.

I think sticking a bobcat and three squirrels with a skein of yarn in a big bag would have done less damage than my frogging and re-wrapping a skein fifteen years ago did. It was an amazing nest of fuxxed up yarn. The smaller skein you see? That came out folded in THIRDS (?) from the guts of the big blob of yarn.

Also, anyone notice I'm wearing socks with NO HOLES IN THEM????? No, I didn't darn my socks yet. Those are one of my last pair left without holes. There will be darning this weekend. And apparently crocheting. It sure does go FAST.

OH, and I figured I'd better take a non-tree action shot of the beautiful orange scarf. Yes that picture was taken in the office building's bathroom but there were no witnesses to spread the CYG updates. I heart this scarf.

My wheel arrived! It's still sitting in this sad state until it gets stained, painted and put together. Can't wait to get

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