and i noticed that it was a trend, that we were so successful and one of the things that we did well was to use everyone's energy in a logical and positive way. and since those two ideas might be too abstract, i will explain - we took advantage of the energy of most of the people, really, for the benefit of pretty much everyone, and the energy we took was enough for everyone to have some, and we usually had a spot for everyone.
for example, the old folks.
they led the charge of those who sit up into the night. in a dim place, with a low bulb and shadows, or a dimmed camp fire or cook fire, or some permutation thereof. hunched, sitting proudly, placidly, leaned back, cocked over tilting. dim eyed or glittering, eyes fixed at nothing or something quite in particular. hot beverages and at least rudimentary food stuff near at hand, at any hour really.
many of them had shuffled off sleep, and sat up into the night in lit places, sometimes all alone, but with a spot next to them for anyone to slide into: book into a shelf. and there was talking or not, but easy companionship for another of the owls who sits up at night.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
what a diz do?
spinning is funny. but not like the octopus and the bagpipes funny, but more like a compulsion bordering on an obsession, and me with the tendency towards anxiety anyway, like a loose particle bouncing around just waiting to get bonded with something (like always).
it also has me doing google searches in pursuit of understanding the aforementioned tool's use and necessity. i've read tell of people making a diz out of a soup lid, so it seems to be some sort of plate? or template? with holes in it?
i plied, literally, a million miles of shetland from my chairback lazy kate system (i badly need to upgrade to a shoebox/knitting needle system) with an actual boat anchor. i swear that spindle weighs exactly 87 pounds. yes my arm is sore.
yes, i am also going to *another* fiber shop tomorrow. this brings me to something that i've always wanted to do - i've always wanted to list all of the fiber shops that i could remember being - disregarding chain/"craft" stores. i can already think of one that i absolutely can't remember the name of and i don't know if google will help me find the names of all of them.
1. Nancy's Knits - Braeswood, in Houston. She stayed open late so Julia and I could poke around; I bought my first Kureyon. It reminds me of a trip away from reality as profound as the Spice Shop in *The Mistress of Spices* (author - Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni - the film is poo compared to the movie, not to discount the efforts of those involved in the production thereof - I digress. CBD is a professor at U of H, Nancy's in Houston - see, it's all related!) It's in an older strip center, on the bayou. No sign. Dark towers of bagged-up yarn loom in the upper reaches of the dim commercial ceiling. If one backs into a wire shelf, it will move, and there will be a Newtonian moment with a skein (or bag) of yarn from above. It may well be exactly the right yarn for the moment, or it could be totally impractical.
I went to Nancy's at odd-regular intervals and she spotted me a dollar on some yarn (probably Kureyon) when I came in after kung fu one day (still in uniform and a bit sweaty - many pearl clutching types would be horrified, Nancy just said hi). I didn't pay her back for a year, but I sure did pay her back.
2. before Nancy's, there was a shop right on the edge of Lewisville and Corinth, on my way home from work. There was construction in the area, and it wasn't easy to get to. I bought two yarns there, but I can only remember one of them - a lime green tweed, real wool with a dull finish. It was rougher than anything else I'd ever felt - being accustomed to the insipid slipperiness of certain big name craft store synthetic yarns of the soft or "so smooth" variety as I was, I fell kind of in love. I got something else too, but can not for the life of me remember what. It was hand dyed...
3. Eventually Julia took me to Yarns 2 Ewe. I have had pleasant moments there, bought plenty of pretty yarns there. The lace shelf next to the ball winding area always lures me in for closer conversation. I've only used one yarn that I've gotten off the lace shelves.
4. Then I moved to southern California. I spent most of my time in Carlsbad and Encinitas, the latter of which hosts two good yarn shops (one I adore with all my heart and wish I'd been a knitter when I lived there, but got amazing mileage from - snicker - literally) and the best bead/crystal shop EVER. EVER. Okay, so first, was Black Sheep. I think I would really like that shop now, but at the time, I was a little meh. There were lots of fancies type yarn, and I had fun with a couple of silly things that I got there, but I don't really remember what they were. Unsettling yarn displays involving wicker baskets (agh, the snagging!) But a hearty display of Manos worsted kept me in thrall. There were many yarns here that I considered buying. Nice ladies.
--Here I must end my post. I am ever so tantalizingly close to finding out what it is that the diz does, after which I will be off to see the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, because of the wonderful things he does. Oh my. But I'll pick up with Common Threads tomorrow. Because actually, Common Threads came first, and always will, in my heart.
it also has me doing google searches in pursuit of understanding the aforementioned tool's use and necessity. i've read tell of people making a diz out of a soup lid, so it seems to be some sort of plate? or template? with holes in it?
i plied, literally, a million miles of shetland from my chairback lazy kate system (i badly need to upgrade to a shoebox/knitting needle system) with an actual boat anchor. i swear that spindle weighs exactly 87 pounds. yes my arm is sore.
yes, i am also going to *another* fiber shop tomorrow. this brings me to something that i've always wanted to do - i've always wanted to list all of the fiber shops that i could remember being - disregarding chain/"craft" stores. i can already think of one that i absolutely can't remember the name of and i don't know if google will help me find the names of all of them.
1. Nancy's Knits - Braeswood, in Houston. She stayed open late so Julia and I could poke around; I bought my first Kureyon. It reminds me of a trip away from reality as profound as the Spice Shop in *The Mistress of Spices* (author - Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni - the film is poo compared to the movie, not to discount the efforts of those involved in the production thereof - I digress. CBD is a professor at U of H, Nancy's in Houston - see, it's all related!) It's in an older strip center, on the bayou. No sign. Dark towers of bagged-up yarn loom in the upper reaches of the dim commercial ceiling. If one backs into a wire shelf, it will move, and there will be a Newtonian moment with a skein (or bag) of yarn from above. It may well be exactly the right yarn for the moment, or it could be totally impractical.
I went to Nancy's at odd-regular intervals and she spotted me a dollar on some yarn (probably Kureyon) when I came in after kung fu one day (still in uniform and a bit sweaty - many pearl clutching types would be horrified, Nancy just said hi). I didn't pay her back for a year, but I sure did pay her back.
2. before Nancy's, there was a shop right on the edge of Lewisville and Corinth, on my way home from work. There was construction in the area, and it wasn't easy to get to. I bought two yarns there, but I can only remember one of them - a lime green tweed, real wool with a dull finish. It was rougher than anything else I'd ever felt - being accustomed to the insipid slipperiness of certain big name craft store synthetic yarns of the soft or "so smooth" variety as I was, I fell kind of in love. I got something else too, but can not for the life of me remember what. It was hand dyed...
3. Eventually Julia took me to Yarns 2 Ewe. I have had pleasant moments there, bought plenty of pretty yarns there. The lace shelf next to the ball winding area always lures me in for closer conversation. I've only used one yarn that I've gotten off the lace shelves.
4. Then I moved to southern California. I spent most of my time in Carlsbad and Encinitas, the latter of which hosts two good yarn shops (one I adore with all my heart and wish I'd been a knitter when I lived there, but got amazing mileage from - snicker - literally) and the best bead/crystal shop EVER. EVER. Okay, so first, was Black Sheep. I think I would really like that shop now, but at the time, I was a little meh. There were lots of fancies type yarn, and I had fun with a couple of silly things that I got there, but I don't really remember what they were. Unsettling yarn displays involving wicker baskets (agh, the snagging!) But a hearty display of Manos worsted kept me in thrall. There were many yarns here that I considered buying. Nice ladies.
--Here I must end my post. I am ever so tantalizingly close to finding out what it is that the diz does, after which I will be off to see the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, because of the wonderful things he does. Oh my. But I'll pick up with Common Threads tomorrow. Because actually, Common Threads came first, and always will, in my heart.
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