Woolybuns

This Is Progress?

 These last few years of transition from everything known and familiar to moving past the emotional earthquake has been quite a process, and getting my fiber room has pretty much echoed that jumble.  It will continue to be so for the foreseeable future.  My natural inclination, like many of you, is to fiber.  Yes, I'll use fiber as a verb if I feel like it, thank you.  The best form of fibering for me, especially when I'm feeling uncomfortable, is wet felting.  It's a very dynamic activity, and provides a wide assortment of sensations.  It's wet, it's sloppy, it's colorful, and sometimes it takes planning, other times sort of go a bit crazy.  All in the same piece, if you choose.  Very creative, very satisfying, never the same.  I can turn on some tunes and get into that rubbing zone and voila:  forget whatever turmoil is tumbling through the mind.  Better yet, the subconscious kicks in and often times comes up with whatever I've been looking for.  But wet felting takes space, and that's been in transition around here, too, at a most frustrating snail's pace.  My stuff has been taking a tour of pretty much every room in the house as each room gets it's makeover, so even when I could eke out space, I haven't been able to find or easily get to my supplies.  Just a couple weeks ago, the future fiber room finally became available.  Obviously, it ain't organized yet.  But  I immediately got my dyeing set up, and worked with that.  But this morning, I just wanted to felt.  Over the last few days, the puppies have lengthened my leash to as much as 4 hours.  Did you hear me squeal?  Cause I did.  My time space continuum may be finally coming together.  That deserves a squeal. 

I want to felt a wall hanging for my space.  I can see it in my mind, but I'm not sure I'll be able to translate that into a nicely done piece. I really want to try!   It has to wait until I get everything moved up here, unpacked and organized cause, ya know, I can't find things right now.  But this morning, I just couldn't wait any longer.  I needed to felt something.  I spied a bag with a couple of batts I picked up at CTSW earlier this year and decided one of those is perfect.  It's in that bubble wrap roll on the table, already soaped up and ready for rubbing.  I feel better already, so yes, this is progress.  About damn time.

Racking It Up

Ha!  A rack contest.  Brought to my attention by a brave entrant.  This makes me giggle, me being the silly thing I am.  And I just happen to have a modest photo that still displays the rack.  So I have to enter, right?  I thought so.  The deadline is today, so if you're gonna, hurry.

Cross Your Fingers

This sign hangs in one room of my chiropractor's office.    I believe those two words in that context.  I've seen it happen for me, and for my son.  Now I want it to happen for one of the bunnies.  One of Elke's 4 week old babies turned up injured a couple days ago, probably a binky gone wrong, or Elke accidentally stomped on him.  At first, I saw just a slight listing to one side in his hind end.  But the affect has progressed.  He's ok on his left side, when he can get his left hind foot underneath him.  And his right foot works so I know his spine is intact.  Late yesterday afternoon, I took him to the chiropractor.  The baby got a full spine adjustment, and that marvelous man who did it says he got one very significant release in the baby's spine.  But another one is still seriously stuck.  So the baby still can't use that leg.  I take him back in today. 

When Things Are Heating Up, It's Time To Strip Your Buns Nekkid

My weather forecast: Saturday July 19

Partly Cloudy

96°

Two down, five to go. 

Wednesday WIPing 7-16-08

I achieved one goal: noticeable progress on Peppermint Stick F&F shawl. Last time you saw it, there were 3 repeats of the 6 row pattern.  Now there are 6.  And a mistake somewhere.  I should know better than to put a lace project down without correcting the mistake (well, of course there's a mistake in every one of my lace knitting sessions - it's lace.  It requires attention).  I didn't.  So now I have to figure out not only where the mistake is, but also where the heck I am in the pattern.  Yes, this will be a long term project, emphasis on long.  The good thing: I know the mistake is only in the last row or two.

The other shawl I started is supposed to be mindless knitting.  I chose my own yarn, polwarth, silk, angora blend 2 ply sport weight spun for me by Still River Mill, and started a garter stitch triangle shawl.  I got a good (for me) amount done and then figured out there isn't enough yarn for the size I want.  And since size matters to me, it's back to balls for this one. 

The Green Gift socks?  Yeah.  There they sit. I need some uninterrupted time to figure out the heel.  The leash the pups have me on doesn't give me a lot of that.  And when I do get a longer stretch of time, I have to undo what they've done.  There is the considerable mess they dump on my kitchen floor after a vigorous romp out in their pen.  I have to let it dry before I can clean it because morning grass is pretty dew-y and the pups are in full puppy coat shed.  And they have now entered the puppy demolition derby.  That was Chloe's first practice session.  Clearly I cannot leave them alone out of their crates for even a second or they will undo all that work in the kitchen.  Chloe is very lucky she chose the unfinished trim and not my new cherry cabinets. 

Goal: get some knitting done.  Simple as that.

There's been progress in the garden, too.  Yum!

Taking An Educated (Or Maybe Wild Assed) Guess

Jessica wants to know: "Holy cow!! Doesn't that *hurt*?!"  To which I giggled cause ya know, I've never tried feathering a nest by denuding my body (not that I am covered in foof, either, btw).  But it's a good question.  I think the answer is no, it doesn't hurt.  Bun V was acting on instinct fueled by hormones.  The hormones which cause that instinct when a doe is ready to kindle (have her babies) also causes her wool to loosen.  I would imagine the same action happens during a false pregnancy. 

And just because today's topic is rabbits and foof, here's a gratuitous bunny photo to tempt you  for ya.

The Urge Is Stirring

I wore myself out with traveling in May, but I've been quite a homebody since then.  Poor car thinks I've abandoned her.  So yesterday, under the influence of wanderlust, I traveled around the web looking for possibilities that accept pets.  I can always go to Maine to visit Mom and I want/need to do that soon.  But I like to stay closer to home for the bunnies during the hazyhotnhumid stuff.  And I'd like to treat myself to something new, just for a couple days.  Most of the pet places I found are camp and RV sites.  I like camping - most of my family vacations as a kid involved setting up tents at midnight, and gratefully slurping down hot chocolate laced with bits of bark and bugs, but I'm not in the mood for that right now.  I'd like a bit more comfort, less work.  So I searched some more.  And I found!I  Turns out there are a few B&Bs in the state that are pet friendly. But only one made me squeal in delight. It's a nicely appointed B&B just over an hour from home that has a fenced in area to let the puppies romp off leash. And get this - at least a couple of the rooms are decorated with spinning wheels.  Pretty cool.  If the puppies don't eat them.  I haven't made a reservation yet, but all sorts of ideas pinballed around the old noggin.  Like: wouldn't that be a natural place to have a spin in?  Or some workshops?  And would the owners be receptive?  So I did some thinking today  And then I explored another page of their website.  Turns out the place is for sale.  My first thought was I better get a reservation in quick.  Then a bigger bit of fantasy kicked in.  Buy the place!   Who cares if I have no experience, no clue, and not enough cash.  It's my fantasy and I'll squeal in delight if I want to

Ok, back to reality.  I bought my winter's worth of oil today. And started another shawl in case it's a longer winter than the amount of oil I reserved will cover.

What Hormones Will Do To You

Powerful things, hormones are.  They can prompt all kinds of wacky behavior.  Like, for instance, this.  Overnight, Bun Vivant's hormones demanded a nest.  She'd already eaten all of her hay for the day, so all she had left for nesting material was her own coat.  Beautiful, glorious, ready for harvest today coat.  What you're seeing is only about half of what she pulled.  There is another mountain of it underneath her.   I may be able to rescue a lot of that, and promptly pulled it out of her hutch to much indignant grunting.  I also replaced it with hay because when hormones are that insistent, one should respond to them.  Normally, I'd be delighted to see a doe nesting.  But Bun V is not bred, has not even had the opportunity, so all that yanked wool was for naught.  Sigh.

Dork

We all forget to bring or use our cameras at fibery gatherings at times.  But what's the one thing you don't forget to bring to spinning guild?  Yep.  Spinning wheel.  You see where this is going?  Right.  I forgot my spinning wheel yesterday.  I have 9 of them and sometimes trip over them. How is it possible for me to forget to bring a spinning wheel to spinning guild?  I am clearly a dork.  Good thing that amuses me.

A Few Minutes To Myself

Chloe and Daphne are sleeping so hush.  I'm being very selfish right now, treating myself to quiet time on the deck, cuppa tea at hand, bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds drifting overhead like canoes on a river. The  air is humid but wind is serving up cool refreshment, perhaps promising a summer thunderstorm later today.   All morning chores are done, all the fur things are fed.  It's very peaceful.  Raising two puppies is not exactly the challenge of raising a baby, but it is time consuming.  Most of the time, I'm on a one to two hour leash.   Overnight, I get a max of 6 hours, sometimes less.  Daphne keeps her crate clean and dry.  Chloe keeps hers clean, but she's not quite there on the dry part.  She's like a honking big SUV in the guzzle arena, and her thirst definitely overwhelms her tank capacity.  I'm thoroughly delighted with these two furbabes and sittin' on the kitchen floor immersed in puppy kisses and wiggles is fun, lovable and entertaining.  But I'm really ready for housebreaking to move forward.  Given that they will be 4 months old in a few days and they are growinggrowinggrowing (I'm guessing they are in the 40+ pound range now), I expect Chloe's capacity issue will take a while to settle.  She's slightly taller than Daphne but noticeably more massive.  She's also got a thicker coat so she gets hotter.  She's more Bernard than Golden, while Daphne's form leans toward Golden, her height Saintly influenced.  I'm taking time off from them today, the daughter giving me a longer leash.  I've missed spinning guild the last couple months and today is guild day.  I'm going.