Thursday, June 28, 2007

Cool beans…knit night at Coffee Tree

Got home from work last night to find a large chunk of tree had fallen in my front yard that missed the kitchen roof by 10 feet! Yikes. There was a downed wire of some kind, probably harmless cable, but I was heading out the door any minute. I left K in charge of calling Verizon to have them come take a look. The power was on, the phone worked, and we don’t bother with cable, so it was probably no big deal.

So I ventured down to Coffee Tree Roasters in Shadyside, where the temperature inside was literally roasting! Not comfy while drinking tea. I was trying out a different knit night where I newly met Min and Susan (sadly both blogless). Min had a fun laissez faire attitude towards sock knitting. She said, “Hmm…the leg looks kinda big, but it’s for a guy. It’s good enough.” Susan was crochet-embroidering a sun face on a cute little baby sundress. Her craftswomanship is marvelous. She is in the Master Knitting program and was grumbling about the strictness of the mandatory swatches. They both regularly attend a knitting group on Sundays that alternates between meeting at the Tango Café in Squirrel Hill and Crazy Mocha on the Southside. This Sunday group is planning to put a website together and get T-shirts made that mimick the iPod listener silhouette with knitter silhouettes! Way cool. Here's a list of other knit-togethers in Pittsburgh.

The three of us all take the same approach to buying yarn. We go with project in mind rather than being lured by yarn just because it’s calling to us. The exception to this is sock yarn, but I don't let myself fall victim to the gold-plated socks. I once saw a pattern calling for 3 skeins of Opal Gems, and the total sock cost from a LYS would be $39! If I’m going to spend that on yarn, it’s not going to be for something trampled by my feet.

When I told them about my other knit night, I mentioned that the Knitting Queen, i.e.,SJ, is one of the fastest knitters I know. Min and Susan were shocked when I told them SJ made 7+ socks in a week!

I just found out yesterday that the Compass Inn Museum out near Ligonier, PA will be hosting a Living History weekend July 21-22, 2007 including a Sheep to Shawl event. They'll have more details on the website soon. Here are some of the sheep that will be participating from Twin Springs Farm.

Well, I must get on with my knitting!

Friday, June 22, 2007

Ring around the rosies

Found this on The Knitting Doctor. While you're at her blog, be sure to check out DancesWithWool. She does gorgeous twined knitting and really cool creatures.

Everything in this finger personality but "you see the best in everything" is absolutely true! If K was reading over my shoulder, he'd say, "Wow, you are SO off in your inner world at times!" I guess that's a nice way of telling me I'm spacy.
You Are a Ring Finger

You are romantic, expressive, and hopeful. You see the best in everything.
You are very artistic, and you see the world as your canvas. You are also drawn to the written word.
Inventive and unique, you are often away in your own inner world.

You get along well with: The Pinky

Stay away from: The Index Finger

If I had 6 hands, my knitting would be so productive!

This brings me to my recent encounter with a South Carolina native, the Palmetto bug, otherwise known as a big cucaracha!!!

I was in Charleston, SC on a conference for work, staying in a swanky 5-star Orient Express hotel, Charleston Place. Much to my horror one night upon return to my room after dinner, I had a 6-legged visitor in the bathroom. I froze for an instant, did a double-take, and thought, “Wow, that’s a roach! I’ve never seen one so big!” This was a hefty specimen, measuring about 1 inch long and ½ an inch wide.

My rescue reflexes snapped into action. I grabbed an empty wastebasket and upturned it on the critter, trapping him. I darted to the phone to call the front desk to report the intruder. They said, “Oh my…hate to tell you this, but…it’s the…South. Would you like us to relocate you?” I said, “No, I just need someone to help kill it.” Again, rather lackadaisically they said, “My, you’re handling this quite well. We’ll send someone up as soon as possible.”

An eternity later, a man appeared in his navy blue workman garb, armed with a foreign accent and a generic can of bug spray. I pointed to the wastebasket on the tile floor outside the bathroom. My savior carefully scooted the can out into the hall, lifted it ever so slightly, and when the bug scuttled, it swiftly met its maker beneath the toe of a black work boot. As I turned to go back into the room, he shyly said with a woeful brow, “Sorry…about ‘zis’,” waving his hands parallel to the floor.

I put a towel at the base of the door, and for the remainder of the evening I wore shoes.