I've been hemming and hawing for far too long on this one, and I just can't do what I want.

I's love to talk to you about xeriscaping, but it's winter here and my garden is showing no evidence of any of my experiments in xeriscaping.  Virginia can be a tough place to xeriscape, because xeric plants do well during our droughts but rot at the roots during our wet, swampy periods. 

I would talk to you about xenoliths, but I gave away my rock collection years ago.

I'm a fan of xylography, but cannot practice it if I want to keep all of my fingers.  

Part of my worried self kept focusing on excision and extinction, because I did worry so about our dear xanthic Yarrow.  But, post-excision, Yarrow is doing quite well.  And he's also managing to do a lot of evil.  And he deserves his own post.  

As I mentioned, I made some socks for me;

And I made some socks for Scott (which are much bigger than mine, despite appearances,  and also have little clothes-pin dents, which please and annoy me by turns) ; 

And I received a gorgeous clapotis Ruadhan made for my birthday, and which I cannot stop wearing;

And a beautiful scarf Purlewe made with yarn from Martha.

I feel so fortunate to have knitting friends who are so kind to me.   We knitters really love to receive hand-knits, though I don’t think it happens that often.  It should.  It is a wonderful thing. 

Scott likes this pair of socks, which is a relief because the first pair I made him were in a sock-yarn that did not pass muster.  These are a merino silk blend, and thus soft and warm and itch-free. 

I’m still working away on a couple of patterns, so my current knitting is under wraps.  Some quilting time has passed rather well, which I’ll try to show you soon.  I also keep making those blasted bags, but need to really knuckle down and find a better way to photograph them for Etsy.  The winter sun isn’t visiting me often, and my  studio is always too dark, and I can’t very well drive to Mathom’s End to borrow Phalen’s studio every time I make a few bags to sell. 

Take note of the Winter Solstice this weekend, friends.  We’re about to start getting more daylight again, which most of us need.

I am truly starting to miss daylight.  I have things to photograph, and I can't get find any daylight. 

I made a lovely, soft, simple pair of socks for Scott. 
I made a lovely, soft, simple pair of socks for myself.
Two friends gave me beautiful knitted gifts.
I've been sewing like mad. 
I lucked into a pile of pre-felted sweaters for upcycling, thanks to the serendipity of freecycle and my friend Carol.
I'm well into another silk shawl, this one for Spirit Trail. 
I've started on something charming for Knitter's Review

Sigh.

Unfortunately,  I did get some rather disconcerting film . . . from a plumber.  We get to replace part of our sewer line.  Our house has settled onto the line and snapped it.  Blasted pipes.  That I won't share.  We have some decent stop-gap options for now, but some nasty equipment will need to make a nasty hole in my garden, and there's no avoiding it. 

When I get right down to it, I do it for the love of wool.  Crewel is my favorite form of embroidery.  A desperate need for wool socks brought me to knitting.  I love to sew wool,  knit wool, spin wool, quilt wool, and wear wool.  I love sheep.  I love the way wool accepts dye.  Wool wool wool. 

All of which I need to chant to myself to ply up some of my handspun.  I hate plying.  Hate hate hate it.   This, thankfully, is a jumbo bobbin full of two-ply fingering weight I spun up and then sat on for ages.   I knuckled down and plied this and some other, deeper blue wool I'd spun even longer ago last weekend.  And during that plying binge, I whined, stamped my feet, cursed, tried to bribe Scott into plying for me, and made a lot of empty threats involving my wheel, my wool, matches, and accellerants.  This handspun wool yarn is all clean now, skeined and draped over my drying rack, waiting to turn into something lovely.  And different, green, better wool singles are winding onto my bobbin inch by inch.  All the while, I'm trying to pretend someone else will ply that once all of the roving is spun up. 

I am happy to say that Yarrow has gotten a clean bill of health from his vet.  His cone is off, his stitches are out, and he’s off the junk.

Before his emergency, I was in a serious quilt-prep stage  This is what I’m working with

I got a bunch of Tula Pink fabrics from her Nest, Flutterby, and Full Moon Forest collections.  Most will be incorporated into a single bed-sized quilt, possibly attic windows.

I also got enough to complete my acquisition-phase for a batik bed-sized quilt.  I admit that my eyes are now and have always been too big for my stomach . . .

And I got a number of botanic prints for sock bags, sports in quilts, and whatever else comes to mind.

After years and years of scrap quilting, it’s a real relief to have yardage to use for quilts.  I’m excited to see what comes next.

And now, gentle reader, I’m outta here.  I’m in Massachusetts, surrounded by wonderful knitters, and I can’t resist their siren song any longer.

When last we spoke, I mentioned how worried I was about my trouble-making cat.  Yarrow is healing well and getting into lots and lots of trouble already, even with a (kitty-sized) fentanyl patch, three doses of another opiate every day, and what must be a rather upsetting wound and, er, absence of an old friend.  Friday, he tried to get the e-collar off when we got home from the vet, got just his lower jaw out, and had a complete meltdown.  We went back to the vet for a new collar option and to allow them the distinct pleasure of pilling and collaring a very upset young athletic cat.

Saturday night he got out of both the soft and hard e-collars and cleaned his wound.  Lucky for us and him he didn't pull out any stitches or mess with the wound after cleaning it.  Saturday afternoon, I went to check on him and could not find him anywhere.  This door-opening cat doesn't generally close doors after himself, and hasn't yet learned to open locked doors, so I was very confused.  The door to the garage as still closed and locked, and I had opened the door to the laundry room to go see him . . . a minute or two of looking behind and between everything on the floor ended when Scott started laughing and pointed upwards. 

Nice, eh?  I'm not sure how high up that is, but I sure can't reach it.   We have since packed he shelves so he can't repeat that feat.  We have to take him on longer and longer treks around the house every few hours because, even stoned and wounded, he cannot bear to be alone and bored.  I'm working from home on Monday and have Tuesday off for Veterans' Day, so he'll be well tended for the next couple of days.  But that fentanyl is wearing off and the patch comes off Monday or Tuesday, so the excitement is just getting started. 

And now . . . proof of creativity!

This is what I've come up with for the linen quilt (it's not all sewn together yet–just units pushed together–so ignore the messiness).  I made the four-patch blocks ages ago and got stuck for a sashing idea.  I finally settled on that navy linen/cotton blend, which I already had in my stash.  The cornerstones are a mix of burgandy linen scraps.  That stripe makes up about half of them, and then I also have two different solids for some.  I'll let the cornerstones fall randomly, just to keep this from being boring.  I really, really wish I had a serger right now, what with all of that linen to overcast.  But considering the cat's vet bills, I don't see myself buying anything frivolous for quite some time. 

Our wool-thieving cat Yarrow is in the midst of a real health emergency.  He showed symptoms of urethral blockage on Sunday so we took him to the emergency vet.  Sure enough, he has FLUTD.  They've tried a few different things to no avail, so tomorrow he goes under the knife for a surgery that would terrify just about any male animal.  I'm worried and frustrated and I really miss Yarrow, my trouble-making box-addicted cat.  So send him some healing vibes if you can, and please keep in mind that a sudden change in litterbox habits can be a symptom of FLUTD, which can kill otherwise healthy cats very quickly.

Today is the day.  Go to the polls and exercise your right to participate in our federal republic.  

I voted early this morning and it was good to see so many people engaged in this year's election.    This is absolutely the most crowded I've seen the polls in the eight years we've lived in this neighborhood, and I find it heart-warming.  Despite the crowds, I only got to knit a few rounds on my sock because my section of the alphabet was under-represented.  I always feel bad being pulled to the front of the line that way–I ended up voting before my neighbors, who were about 80 places in front of me in the line.  I opted for a paper ballot because the electronic machines in my precinct have been having all sorts of troubles today, and I was very glad to see that the poll workers had plenty of paper ballots ready to go.

I feel like all of my serious posting has gotten me out of the habit of just posting about what I’m up to.  Of course, what I’m up to is making sock bag after sock bag (boring), knitting a gift (secret), working on a tutorial (unfinished) and plotting out a pattern for something you’ve already seen (meh).

So look–ponies!  Ok, no, Percherons.

These exquisite beasts were pulling a big carriage around Rhinebeck.

Let’s check out those harnesses, shall we?

He is well-kitted, no?

Rhinebeck also has great antique machinery.  I am a woman who grew up listening to and playing a lot of dorky video games, and believe you me, the machines sound like they came straight from a goblin’s workshop.  I do wish they’d clean up the surrounds and actually make this a living history shop, but I also wish they’d give me the Percherons, and neither wish looks to be coming true today.

I hope you’re enjoying autumn and huffing fallen leaves and clean wool.

I know most of my ABC-along posts have been more philosophical, but right now I’m just excited that this is done!  I made this bag entirely from things I had on hand.  I came up with a general design and then jumped in.   I felted a bunch of sweaters, none of which were repairable, cut them up, sewed them onto scrap twill, made a reinforcing base from some scrap plastic, lined it with some leftover fabric from quilting, and added some buttons I had on hand.  I love it when a project comes together from what I already have–the best dinners often come about that way, as do some of the best hand-made items.

As with most of my scrap projects, I love thinking about where these wool squares came from.  The pale green was my favorite cashmere sweater (sigh).  The brighter green was a sweater that had one too many run-ins with Scath, and the orange was just never the right shape.  The browns were old sweaters of Scott’s, the bright blue is from a thrifted sweater that was worn clear through at the elbows and cuffs–clearly a good friend to the man who owned it before.  

I added a key-clip on a lariat, since I hate to lose my keys in a bag.  I also added some pockets to the lining for pens and a small notebook. 

My favorite little feature are the two side-pockets though.  I don’t think most people would notice them, and they seem like the perfect spots for silly little somethings. 

I still have lots of felt squares, so I can absolutely see a sibling in the works.  If only I didn’t have that silly job in the way of stitching.