skeined.

myrtleskein

Spunky Club Dark BFL in colorway myrtle, 4 oz.

183 yards of 3-ply, dk to light worsted (says my eye).

wpi: soon.

I caved and acquired a tool to measure this on etsy. I hope it will be here when I return from my parents’ house on Wednesday.

darkbflmyrtleFOcloseup

Yay! I’m thrilled with this. Now, what to do with it?

Meanwhile, back at the ranch:

targheeinprog

I couldn’t help but put something on my empty, forlorn-looking wheel. This is targhee from the Woolly Wonders Fiber Club at AVFKW. It is so smooth and shiney that even now, this photo is distracting me from my attempts at description. This is 3 oz of deep melon-y beauitfulness in the It’s a lovely day colorway. Although the Lendrum does fold and travel, I’m going to leave it here to await my return, mostly because I might ignore my family in order to keep spinning, and that would be poor form.

One more WIP today:

thujaturnedheel2

I turned the heel of the second thuja sock for my uncle last night, and am planning to work on it a bit more before Boh and I hop into the car. I will get these done in time to deliver them, I will get these done in time to deliver them, I will get these done in time to deliver them…

break-up pancakes.

breakup pancake

The lines between real life and blog-life are hard, and I’ve been ignoring this space this week in part because I just don’t know how to write this post. You all know the boy through this space — his hands are in the food photos of the last 8 months, our adventures are pictured here, I’ve grown comfortable writing posts full of “we’s” and “usses,” and now…

Now I will miss those traces of him here. No anger, just sadness to work through. Sometimes the fit just isn’t quite right, and no amount of wishing or wanting on either side can fix that. I’ve never cared this much for someone in this way, and thus, I hurt more than I thought possible.  We’ve had a week of tears, quiet walks in the woods, long talks, and, moments ago, a physical goodbye dictated by a research project. I thought it would be horrible for him to be away so long. Now, it seems a good thing, as time and space are probably what we both need in order to heal and transition to friendship.

I’ve never done this part before — the hurting that comes after something so meaningful — and I’m at a loss. Also, I never make pancakes. I like savory breakfast food. But today, I had half a cup of buttermilk in the fridge and saw a link to a recipe over at smitten kitchen that seemed just the thing.

castironpancake

breakuppancake2

These are the best pancakes I’ve ever made, and I’m not going to lie: I think they helped a little bit.

Last night I made some granola for the week:

granola

And last week, in the immediate aftermath, the most beautiful bread came out of my oven. See?

pretty bread

The boy and I have each received some TERRIBLE break up advice that we are choosing to ignore as we work through this, but I got something really good from a dear friend yesterday on a long walk in the rain: do something for someone else.

I’ve had a really hard time knitting or spinning this week — too meditative for the way I feel — but this bit of advice has helped me to pick up the needles today. I kitchenered the first sock of the pair of thuja I am working on for my uncle. I’m heading home for a few days next week, and I would really love to give these to him. I worked a few inches of the cuff of the second sock today, and the squish of this cascade 220 superwash felt really good in my hands. Here’s a picture of my progress — socks in the foreground, dear snuggling companion in the back.

bohandthuja

Thanks for being here, dear readers. I know this is a lot to lay on you, but it feels good for me to write it down here. I imagine there will be a narrative of recovery, of hopefulness, and of willingness to do this all over again buried somewhere in the subtext of this summer’s knitting and spinning progress. I’m lucky to have good people in my world to take care of me right now, and I know it will get better. It has to, right?

FO: leftover socks

blurry-leftovers

blurry-close-up

Apologies for the blurriness, folks. We all know how hard it is to take pictures of one’s own feet. Details on these socks: Cascade 220 superwash, maybe 3/4 of a ball? I bought 2 balls to make a pair of men’s size 10.5 socks, and started a new ball for each sock. I made these with the leftovers. Same basic Ann Budd pattern, size 5 needles. My toes are nice and warm!

Also, this guy wants you to know that even though he is on vacation, he is getting a lot of work done on his green toy:

pooch1

pooch2

Boh is currently snoring loudly on the couch. He worked very hard today.

leftovers.

No, not that kind. (Though my mother did send me home with multiple Tupperware containers of turkey soup.) I’ve finished the hiking socks for the boy, and I can’t wait for him to wear them. I like to give gifts on non-holidays, and I may end up giving him his socks a bit early, particularly because of the very kind praise my family lavished upon them on Thanksgiving. Requests for socks were voiced, and my cousin pronounced that they looked like “real socks”. I did, however, come up with a way to slow myself down: I don’t quite know how they’ll wear, as they aren’t made of sock yarn, and I’ve never made anything out of Cascade 220 superwash. Thus, I present the first half of a pair:

dsc05304

Same, but different. These are for me. Test socks, if you will. I had 2 balls of yarn for the boy socks, and started each sock with a new ball, as I didn’t want to have to join new yarn at an inopportune moment. The leftovers looked like enough for one girl sock from each ball — and on this first sock, it was close: 44 stitches around (which is a tad loose on me, but 40 st with this yarn is too snug), stockinette, heel flap, and not quite a full toe — ran out of yarn at 10 st on each needle.

You’ll notice that I’m ridiculously verbose today — seems I can do that everywhere but in the paper I’m writing. Tomorrow’s a new day, and I’ll be aiming for uber-productivity in the land of schoolwork, punctuated with knitting breaks to work on sock #2.

___ tired.

sleep1

sleep21

We’re nearing the end of the semester, and we both feel this way. Luckily, we’ve had a little bit of this:

snow

crazy

It is time to really dig into the papers I have to write in order to finish out the semester, and I’m having a hard time locating my motivation to get into these particular projects. I realized this weekend that this is okay, and that the progress I’ve made this semester has required a lot of energy and effort, and it is beginning to catch up to me. I’m looking forward to the change of scenery my parents’ house will provide later on this week. I’ll certainly be bringing a pile o’ books with me, but I haven’t been home for Thanksgiving in several years, and I’m anticipating a whole lot of laughter and some personal battery recharging. I’ll also be bringing some knitting…

socks-near-door

But probably not these! They just need to be kitchenered. I deceived the boy, and asked him to try them on because it is a new pattern and I wanted to be sure that they’d fit my father — the boy and my dad have similarly sized feet. Sock #1 fit perfectly! I am seriously considering gifting these now, just because.

Eek: two full days’ worth of work between me and turkey preparation. Must get back to it!

half a pair…

boy-sock-1

All I can say is worsted weight. It makes socks fly! (Also, knitting is often more fun than reading for class.) I did some bargaining with myself when I got home from class this afternoon: if I let myself finish the first sock, I need to read 100 pages of the next book before bed. Time to go hold up my end of the deal!