Stash Busting

So, while I was rooting in my closet, like a truffle pig, looking for a grey ball of Red Heart Symphony that I clearly remember buying las t year, it occurred to me to write of my stash. The closet has lesser stash, the stuff I would be most likely to give to a New but Sincere Knitter, or to make a washable hat out of. Or something. Although, there's four balls of something variegated that I got from some European vendor that are still waiting for instructions from the muse. I should take those out of Lesser Stash and move them into Prime Stash.

Prime Stash is the Twelve Tubs. Somehow, 12 seems like the right number of tubs of yarn to have. Thirteen makes me edgy, which is why the emphasis on stash slimming, as the super bulky stored in the armoire seems to have become part of my consciousness lately. Ahem. One may wonder where I keep my clothes. Well, that is challenging. I hang things in the closet, of course, and there are dresser drawers, of course, but the Lesser Stash has been gaining altitude lately.

So, logically, I decided to begin by using up super bulky. When White Buffalo Unspun went on sale at Elann three years ago, I was sized with panic that I would never make a Cowichan Sweater if I didn't buy, uhm, a lot. Priscilla Gibson Roberts excellent book was still out of print at that time, so I was stalled in my knitting efforts, and uhm, well, it never goes below freezing where I live. I mean, we also don't have central heat, so we do suffer, some, but only in that character building way that causes the children to sneak over to the heater and turn it UP and then I march over and turn it DOWN, and this goes on until we blow a fuse, and then Mr. Wooly has to find the fuse, and then usually go out and check the breaker box, because, yes, the fuse box is functional, but it has two breakers of it's own. Electricity is an afterthought in this house. In fact, after we bought it and were having the foundation replaced, and then the inspector wouldn't sign off until we updated the electrical service- after that, and before he replaced things, the electrician brought a large field trip of apprentices, because it had been YEARS since he had seen a house that was completely knob and tube. Kind of exciting, really, to see the little sparks kind of leap down the wires. SO, back to heat, and why we don't really have any. And Cowichan sweaters, and why we really don't need any, because 362 days of the year they would cause heat stroke and require my loved ones to require IV hydration.

So, how to get rid of it? The Mason Dixson knitters had the idea- a blanket. I had just been to see the Quilts of Gee's bend, and between the Pettigrews and the M-D knitting books, I was on my way to a log cabin knitted blanket. It has been an excellent project, so far, but less than portable. The only bag I could fit it in, when I was trying to spiff up the house and free up some seating for Thanksgiving guests, was a giant trash bag. A clear one, of course, because my family is trained that wool in clear bags is not trash. So, I am steaming along on that. It will be a fine heavy blanket, and it should intimidate decesndents for years to come.

Of course, one log cabin is never enough, and I got distracted in the middle and made a quilt in the courthouse steps variation, and then I got all the balls of hand dyed worsted to gather and started a rainbow blanket log cabin style, out of those. That can now just barely bee stuffed into my biggest tote bag.

Then, a relative of the grateful variety fell ill, and so I spent the last three days speed knitting her a shawl. It took on ball of Red heart Symphony, and about twenty yards of a second ball. Sooooo if I could find the grey ball I bought last year, I could use up both of those, and then give that shawl away, or keep it in case of Sudden Shawl Emergency. ( Was it A A Milne who pioneered the art of capitalizing to make things look Important? If so, it may be a greater contribution to my happiness and amusement that Winnie The Pooh himself.) Which led me to the Lesser Stash, which made me see the Encore worsted, which made me think of a round blanket, made in wedges, like a beach ball. Wouldn't that be fun?

Wrong Side of the Bed

no, I didn't get up on the wrong side of the bed- I was a healthcare consume rather than provider. Everything's fine, now, and we got great care, but damn, what a weird few days. It was in the hospital that I work in, too, so I saw so many people doing double takes . Oh you- what are YOU doing here? Sort of a constant refrain.

For no particular reason, here is a picture of a small wet dog.

I finished a pair of socks while in the hospital, and I cannot show you a picture because I have already worn them and the yellow heels show too much dirt. After I wash them. Started another pair- remind me to NEVER take the sock in progress out of my purse, as its presence was the only thing that kept me from loosing my mind. Kept my nose out of the chart, and that was damn difficult.

Started a sweater out of Big Kureyon. If it gets past the edging stage, I'll take a picture.

Happiness, brought to you by the letter M.

This is Mr. Nurseknits guest blogging. These two images are creating smiles around here in the spontaneous and giggly way. I love that one word (that at first he claimed he just made up and didn't know what it meant) doomed Senator Allen and threw the Senate to the Democrats. (Of course, it still couldn't have happened had he not been a lousy senator, an unrepentant racist, and facing a Democratic wave, but it was the start.) The wife loves to say Madame Speaker and just grins and then she adds, "First. Woman. Speaker." (Actually, there might be exclamation points instead of periods there.) Mmm, Mmm, good.