Mondays just disappear for me. I teach four 2-hour classes between 10am and 8:30pm, which doesn’t seem like a lot, but I always feel really beat when I get home at night! I think it’s the “good” tired though; the kind you get from a) doing something you love, and b) pigging out all day on eye candy. Carol E. and I were both worn out last night when we locked the shop door behind us.
Being deliriously close to a disorienting amount of beautiful stuff all day, which you have promised yourself NOT to buy, takes a toll on one. Trust me, it’s hard.
why do we do it? For the money, the luxurious lifestyle afforded by yarn shop employment? Nope.
For the cause of bringing ever-fresh waves of new knitters into the fold? Nope.
To be the very first ones to see all the new yarn when it comes in, and have dibs on the best selection? Getting very close, but I’d have to say, nope.
(Only because we’re both sort-of on yarn diets) . . . stop laughing.
Truthfully, it’s a day off. It’s the time when we get out of the house, away from the job, and spend 12 hours knitting, looking at yarn, and talking to other knitters. Sure, I have to put up with being interrupted constantly during class time, but at least the interruptions are knitting-related. And, eventually students learn to leave me alone, realizing that my knitting is much more important than theirs.
Ok, just kidding. But it is nice to be in a place without my phone, email, or computer to deal with.
It’s less automatic than my own shaping for my big toes, but it was fun to do. Here is a side-by-side comparison:
My left foot is doing a happy dance because it gets to wear the new sock. My right foot is tapping its toes to the tune of that fun trekking XXL colorway . . . hey, I’m not crazy just because your feet need to get a life.
This morning is very pretty and sunny. I unpinned the two shawls and took a couple of final shots as if they were glam 50s movie stars.
I stretched the Japanese Feather Stole pretty aggressively; it came off the needles at 46 inches and I stretched it easily to 72 inches long by 21 inches wide. When I took the pins out, the length relaxed about 2 inches and the width stayed at 21. It is very light and airy. The schaefer Anne yarn, which had a very smooth finish off the skein, bloomed slightly in the soaking, but not enough at all to give a fuzzy appearance (mountain colors bearfoot, which has the exact same fiber content, is mysteriously fuzzier . . . must be more loosely spun). I am very happy with its delicate look and feel; it can easily work as a stole or a scarf. Wrapping a pile of translucent lace around your neck makes it very warm.
The four seasons shawl blocked out to 72 inches without even stretching. Actually, I did not want to stretch it to be bigger, but just to shape it. The soft, soft feel of the merino lace yarn was enhanced, and the whole thing benefitted from being bathed and shaped. I thought that, at this size, it would be heavy, and thus, rendered somewhat unshawl-like, but I was wrong!
It’s gorgeously large enough to comfortably envelope one, two, maybe even a small family of people, or to be laid on as the top layer of bedclothes. Yet it feels light and tote-able; it folds into a small square easily for bringing along to a picnic or an evening outdoors.
Very satisfying, indeed! Now it’s time to think about the next one . . .
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Originally posted by Anne Hanson on April 11th, 2006