Sunday, January 30, 2011

long time no post

So, I got my cast off on Thursday and discovered that getting the arm freed was more unsettling than being in a cast.  I lost 2 days of work more or less (I did show up to do some necessary things, but had no stamina at all) and have been laying down contemplating that old chestnut "be careful what you wish for." 

When you get a cast removed, the underlying muscles and tendons that usually do a bunch of work holding your limb up and making it go have generally shriveled into unhappy immobility.  Plus, the skin underneath is used to being protected so there's a huge amount of sensitivity.  It translates into I lost 2 days of work because I couldn't move the arm without curling up and whimpering.

Lots of warm water/compresses/gentle stretching exercises later, I'm starting to feel a little more human.  Thank goodness.

Meanwhile, not a lot has been happening on the knitting front.  I'd feel bad, but the first 2 days not a lot happened on the being able to get dressed front...  it's good to remember.

Since the current knitting looks like this:
vine and ivy pattern test-knit in dye for yarn's tussah laceweight
and my Mom and Dad went through all the gyrations of setting up some of these beauties so I could store the stash without weeping, cursing, or forgetting what I've got, I thought I'd show you how stash organization is coming.

For now, the newly christened wall o yarn is sitting in front of the (functionally useless) hearth in my 'yellow room.'  Once I get a bit more mobility and a bit more wherewithal, the stash will be moved to the newly enclosed porch where it will trouble no-one, and I can sneak out and bask in it when things are frustrating.

Here's the left side:
currently, our not-yet-unpacked cds are in the bottom providing ballast
So here, we have mainly lace weight/fingering weight yarns.  The basket at the top has enough worsted weight yarn (cotton fleece) for 2 sweaters and (bartlett wool) one vest.  Top shelf are my mohair yarns and some jojoland lace weight in a clear glass bottle.  Next shelf down gets looted a lot.  It's my natural colored yarns, used to test patterns.  Plus a sweater-worth of yarn I plan on making myself a festival sweater out of... by May... hahahahaha.  Yeah, sometimes the delusions are too fast and fancy for even me.  Next shelf is cobweb weight yarn on cones, and a buncha fingering weight.  Current bottom shelf has a bag of still unsorted yarn and a basket for 'land of lost socks.'  Those are sock weight yarns that I had originally thought of making into shawls, but am likely going to make socks out of instead.  90% of this wall came from the Woolery, now that I look at it. 

That being explained, here is the right wall o wool.
mmm yarn
So, here we see a  testament to the fact that I apparently want sweaters in no small way.  Top shelf, 3 sweaters worth of yarn.  Middle shelf 5 sweaters worth of yarn.  Next shelf, random fingering weights.  Last shelf, one bag with single skein of sock yarn and an unsorted bag of yarn.

Three years of hoarding, but I could knit all of this within 18 months if yarn stores suddenly went away.

This is where I'm keeping the expensive stuff:
silk, silk, silkedy-silk
The majority of what is in this shorty glass-front bookcase (total cost 78 USD @ IKEA) is silk, silk blend, or one of a kind dyes from fiber artists.  That bottom shelf is ... another sweater's worth of lace-weight yarn.  Ahem.

superwash fingering weight
This matching bookcase has my alpaca teddy bear and about 7 shawls worth of fingering-weight madelinetosh yarn.  The bottom shelf is natural malabrigo yarn that I got for 2 USD per skein. 

Looking at all this stash, I probably should feel guilty instead of gleeful.  But, I don't smoke, drink, invest heavily in makeup or clothes (unless I'm knittin' 'em), or travel much.  Yarn is my extravagance, my therapist, a friend who doesn't mind if I come downstairs and pet it at 3 in the morning, and a way for me to tell the people around me that I love them even though I'm a complete social klutz.  (Not many people can get their foot as far down their throat in a lifetime as I can in 10 unguarded minutes.)

Also, I'm putting this up for posterity.  The counters aren't as uncluttered as they were last night (still have coffee making things on them), but they're cleaner than they have been since I broke my radius and ulna at the wrist.
lest I forget it can be done
And I organized the spices that my husband must have by the stove at all times because I got tired of being dive-bombed.  Getting whacked on the head by coriander does not count as an "exotic culinary experience."

the rolling island, and my antique 1852 keys,
Anyway, the shorty is asking me to play with him so I'm going to stop here.  Thanks to everyone who makes it to the bottom of this long-winded post.

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