Variegated Blue Yarn: A Project in the Making

I’ve spun my fair share of skeins, but, thus far, I haven’t knitted with any of them. My initial pound of roving was to get the hang of spinning. My subsequent project was a gift for a friend of mine. This spinning project is my first that’s just for me. Woo!

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Back in the Saddle: A Sewing Project

If you read my sewing-machine drama post, you’ll know that my sewing machine and I have been more on the outs than on the ins. This is unfortunate for many a reason, not the least of which is, of course, that I like to sew. I spent awhile troubleshooting my machine in a bid to determine the problem.

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Sewing Machine Drama

My sewing machine has not been cooperative of late. In fact, the darn thing has been downright obstinate and temperamental. Its behavior has meant that it has done hard time both in the repair shop and in the closet while I actively ignore it whenever my friends come over for craft night. Nor am I alone in my technology woes. Every kind of technology inspires people to rage beyond every kind of reason as evidenced by the universal love for the scene in Office Space where the much maligned office printer is beaten to death to the gangsta tune of die, motherfu…, die. Now, I’m not quite ready to drive my sewing machine out to a remote field in Kansas and beat it with a baseball bat a la Office Space, but my machine definitely could start toeing the line a little more obediently or we may very well take that drive.

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A Friend’s Half a Pound of Spun Yarn

One of my dear friends lives in Atlanta, which is means I rarely get to see her. We have many things in common:  being Jewish, crafty, Latin enthusiasts, and sometimes quite intense. Luckily, her family lives in the Kansas City area, so sometimes I get to see her. Or sometimes, she’ll say “I have a crazy idea!” (and it is), and my husband and I agree to drive out to Atlanta to help her run a Latin-speaking event at her high school. Either way, each visit is a special one.

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Delving into Crafting and Self-Examination

I did not realize how much free time I had until I went from fostering a high-needs seven-year-old girl and back to being childless again. I have so much free time. Why haven’t I given my house a thorough cleaning or written a book or learned how to build furniture or tackled poverty or … parented a child? In many ways, I am still grieving the absence that she created, and in many ways, I am so relieved to have control and quiet and safe animals again.

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