The Land of Wool and Honey

Lazy Blogger, Reporting for Duty

Well, hello there. 

I'll bet you thought I had given up this gig.  (For a second there, so did I.)  I'm back and I'm going to try my best to be here more often.  I enjoy blogging much more when it's on a somewhat-regular basis and I know you do, too.  

Let's see.  Spinning:

  

"Berry Patch."  100% Falkland wool.  2-ply worsted weight; 240 yds--4 oz.  Fiber purchased from the lovely Laurs at Bee Mice Elf.  This was my first go at spinning Falkland and I gotta say, it's something I just enjoy.  (Read a little more about Falkland wool here.)  

 

(More Falkland in the foreground, BFL from my sister Liz in the back.)

 

Miles of I-cord.  It's got a purpose.  Really.  Either this will be the Best Idea Ever or a Total Flop.  

Thanks for sticking around, dudes.  Tune in next time for a full report on the yarn coils, success or failure.  (I'm thinking it's a winner.)   

Little Luxuries

A few weeks ago, I made a decision to do something (or rather, to not do something,) and it changed my life.*  If you're just here for the pictures, you may want to scroll to the bottom of the post. 

*Before you read any further, my curious kitties, please know that I am still eating truckloads of chocolate, helping myself to the not-so occasional frosty adult beverage and most definitely am NOT pregnant.  I said "life changing", not Altering My Existence So Entirely That I Cannot Recognize My Own Name Due To Maniacal Moodswings, The Inability to Properly Relax and Extreme Sleep Deprivation.  Chances are, my ideas of altering my daily life patterns differ greatly from yours.

Anyhoo.  I decided that, although we are at the beginning of tourist season 2009, or The Months That Make Living Worthwhile, instead of extending business hours this year, I wouldn't.  That, while it would be super-accommodating of me to open up shop at 10:00 a.m. every morning, I'm not going to.  Because I've been rather enjoying the extra hour at home.   Doing the things that normal people do.  Throwing a few loads of wash in the machine.  Starting--and sticking with--a kick-ass workout regime (thank you, P90x!)  Having a cup of tea.  With a book.  You know, living life. 

Every summer since I've had the shop (working on number four, thankyouverymuch!), the entire season flew by in a wooly blur.  That's just the way it goes--come warm weather, it's crazy busy here in God's Country.  Insane.  Which I LOVE. 

But the one thing I don't love about life Up North is the fact that I've missed out on a lot to participate in the retail madness over the years.  Not just since I've had Inish Knits--I've worked in retail locations all around Leelanau County for the past fifteen years.  That's okay; with every decision you make in life, there is a coordinating compromise.  I guess that for me, the downside of growing up in the most beautiful place in the world is the fact that I've never been able to attend the Leland Wine Fest.  (Insert the ultimate "boo-hoo" face here.)   

It's ridiculously easy to totally immerse yourself in work during the busy tourist time.  You think, you know, if I went in a little earlier, I could make my coffee at the shop and catch up on a little filing.  Or, if I don't offer classes every day of the week, no one will take the shop seriously.  Or, if I'm not open thirteen hours a day, the customers won't be happy. 

But this year, I'm not listening to the voices.  The work will get done.  It really will.  It just requires a little bit more efficiency on my part.  Less dinking around.  (Sorry, Twitter.)

And opening at 11:00 a.m. every morning Monday through Saturday (instead of 10:00 a.m.) isn't going to change life radically for anyone else.  I'll continue to stay open until 6:00 p.m. every single night--year-round--as I've always done.  I'll be open until 8:30 p.m. on Tuesdays and Wednesdays for Spinning and Knitting Nights, as I've always done.  I'll be open on Sundays from 1:00 to 4:00 p.m. May through December, as I've always done.  This year, though, the mornings are for me.

You may not think that an hour means much in the grand scheme of things, but I am here to tell you, I'm a changed woman.  I'm proud to say that I've been taking time to enjoy all the lovely little bits about life.  Curling up for a moment with a sleepy kitty.  Lingering a little longer at my local coffee shop.  Pushing my fitness level a little harder.  Making a more comfortable home for my husband.  Enjoying the flowers in the garden, both literally and metaphorically. 

See?

 

 

I sat on my front porch for a half hour this morning with a cup of yerba mate, just admiring at these beautiful botanicals.  And I can't begin to tell you how fabulous that felt.         

Pass The Pink, Pretty Please

Not one to consider myself a girly girl, over the past six months or so, I've found myself waxing poetic about all things pink.  Like a saccharine disease, the love of pink has infiltrated my life slowly, sneaking in first with magenta, moving quickly to berry, then coral, then blush and wouldn't you know it, suddenly I'm batting my eyelashes at the sugary-sweetest color of all, carnation pink. 

Observe:

  

Can you say "Dr. Seuss?"

And a slightly lighter variation, with which I will ply:

 

A brand new pattern booklet by Jenny Watson has become a recent favorite of mine.     

 

Even though this sweater isn't a style I normally sport, I want it.  Now.  Knitting fairy?  Where you at?

 

One of my best friends from college is pregnant.  With twins.  Girls.  I can only imagine how adorable matching baby knits must be, but two Top-Down Baby Pullovers (#214) in this color?  Might be enough to dissolve a hormone-crazed pregnant woman into tears.  (Although that doesn't usually take much anyway, does it, Meg?) 

 

I'd been dreaming about this scarf for months, imagining how fabulous it would be as a shop sample.  Yarn was chosen, handed out, scarf was knit, blocked, delivered and it turns out, I was right.  It is fabulous.

 

 

The yarn pictured is Louisa Harding Merletto.

More spinning, say you?  How 'bout this lovely trio of batts, dyed by scientist/nature lover/girl genius extraordinaire/my 'lil sis Liz?

 

This cloud of fluff (er, Bluefaced Leicester) was dyed with locally harvested Leelanau pokeberry.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a mountain of new projects to start.  Bring on the pink! 

June Is Busting Out All Over

Welcome, summer!

True: We had our woodstove on every night last week (except Thursday).  Curt is buying more pellets on his way home tonight.  Just in case.

True: The clock across the street at Pleva's is currently reading 52 degrees.

True: I am wearing my handspun sweater.  And a fleece vest.  And handknit wool socks. 

But looking past all those minor details, the flurry of my life's activities over the past two weeks seems to indicate something else entirely.  Something that bears an uncanny resemblence to a heat wave.

First, there was the Great Cascade Influx of 2009.

Before:

 

(Yes, this is what happens when I have to take pictures of myself with a self-timer.  I could really use a remote....)

After:

 

(83 colors, for those of you wondering.) 

Then there was a party in a barn,

that centered around a bride-to-be and a chocolate feast,

 

(My sisters, the twins.  Becca the bride, Liz the lovely host.)

   

a stocking was finished,

 

yarn was spun, plied, tied, washed, wacked--and promptly sold,

 

("Dreams on the Bayou", 705 yds--8 oz. total weight.  2-ply sport/dk weight Merino wool.  If you think really hard, I'll bet you can guess where I bought it.) 

stash was acquired,

but not really, because I spun that, too:

("Mayfair", 190 yds, 4 0z.  2-ply Merino wool, heavy worsted weight.  Fiber purchased from the lovely Woolamina.)

a new project was cast on,

 

(Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino)

and then another,

 

(Noro Iro)

...and a four-hour shopping spree meeting with my favorite yarn rep that ended with heart palpitations, the biggest yarn order I've ever placed (think in the neighborhood of $12-14K) and a ginormous frosty adult beverage at the tavern next door.

Yup.  We were talking about fall.  Already.