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emmy [AT] curious-notions {dot} net
September 2022
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I haven’t forgotten about the blog. I’ve been busy this week and then last night I ended up sleeping like 10 hours. My guess is that I wasn’t feeling well. But it means I’m even farther behind. *sighs*

So lately I’ve been spinning. The knitting isn’t going at all. I don’t have the energy to cast on something new and I can’t seem to make myself go forward or backwards with the camo sweater.

But I do have more pictures that I wanted to share

I was trying to follow my brother’s lead. I don’t think I did nearly as well.

The fiber is a merino tencel mix (I’m not sure what mix, but I’m guessing 50/50) called Aspen by Spunky Eclectic.

I’m thinking of spinning it up for a hat.

comfort and luxury

I don’t often think of comfort going along with luxury. Probably because stuff that comforts me isn’t terribly luxurious by today’s standards. A book. A warm blanket. A hug. But I was flipping through my music on my computer not wanting to hear some of the songs that I would normally listen to, when I hit Billy Joel’s Just the Way You Are. And I sighed inside the way you would at the touch of silk or really fine chocolate. But I also felt something in me calm a bit the way a sweet book or warm blanket can calm me.

I do think it’s interesting that I find a song luxurious. I can replay it over and over and every day, so it’s not something rare. I think I just find this song particularly fine.

I had chicken noodle soup earlier and now I have a mug of tea with cream and sugar (not the way I have tea on a daily basis or even a weekly basis). I think I’m in need of comforting, but finding that touch of luxury to accompany the comfort was really nice. Also interesting to me is that it’s the second time in a few days that something has managed to seem both comforting and luxurious to me. I can’t really share the song, but I can share the other thing:

I love this photo.

And this one. Just gorgeous. Soft and gorgeous.

Creatively speaking

It always seems to me that in writing/knitting/spinning/probably-any-creative-effort, there are always many many ideas that occur to the creator. Stories and pictures and thoughts and dreams spark characters and plots and visions of lace and cascades of color and textures. But usually the ideas come when we are already busy trying to make some previous vision into a reality. So we try to capture the idea by writing something down or maybe creating something small and quick with the idea that later we’ll come back to the tangible thing we created and be able to recapture the nebulous spark. But I’ve found, despite years of writing down little bits of characters and plots and now taking pictures and writing little ideas of combinations of fiber and pattern that rarely does the spark get captured. Later more often that not turns into never and the best we can hope for is that those little notes and pictures and samples and bits will strike a new spark. Not that characteristic, turning point, color, fiber, fabric, or combination, but ah, this one will work.

I’m currently trying to breathe some spark into a few ideas. A story, some lace, some color, a bitty sweater. It makes it difficult to come by and write and document when things are so nebulous and I don’t share the writing or work efforts on this blog. But I’ll share some pictures and I’ll be by to share once I see some light.


I love this picture. The mornings were spent in my fiance’s mother’s living room, enjoying the roses, tea, quiet, and knitting (or spinning) . And this picture gives me a feeling of peace. Strange, because I’m not sure I was feeling peaceful at the time.

pink lily

One of my favorite lilies. We have a few of them outside the kitchen and on the other side of the house.

june fotm

June FOTM from Spunky. I probably won’t spin it for a while. The colors just aren’t talkin to me.

adventure (of the fiber variety)

So on Monday I had a little combing adventure. (I was lucky to get a few stitches knit on the sock yesterday between dinner, picking people up at the airport, and a run to the bookstore before they closed because Bear and I really wanted some good stuff to read. We were partially successful, but sometimes bad stuff to read is good too. Back to the combing adventure.)

I got the combs in the mail on Monday and that evening while Bear was taking his afternoon nap (these are regular things, it’s a hateful sleep pattern from my perspective, but after 5 years, I’ve given up on changing it.) I decided I’d go to the back porch and use the railing for my first little adventure in combing wool. In preparation for combing the alpaca fleeces when they get here.

So first I took out some of the dyed wool I bought… around a year ago?

Dyed Wool locks?

I had an idea that I could turn this blue and pink baby color looking bag of fleece that I bought into a very pretty, still baby color but definitely better, purple. Then I set up the combs.

First comb setup

I don’t have a picture of why this turned out to be a bad idea, but those railings aren’t exactly flat and pulling on the combs from the front made them rock a bit. I doubt I would have sent the whole thing crashing to the ground, but it made it difficult to comb. So I changed the setup and was able to move much more fluidly.

better combing setup

The grips on the back of the railing worked much better. So this is after the fiber has had a few passes. I was only able to comb for an hour and that was only combing just a little bit, but I have a couple of observations.

a) Maybe I lash the fiber on incorrectly and later I’ll read somewhere or realize what I was doing wrong, but usually that first pass of the free comb would yank off half the locks. And then I’d spend 10 minutes trying to get the rest of the fiber to transfer. I really hope that I get better at that because it really did make things kinda difficult.

b) It would take a around 6 (3 if you count from stationary to stationary as 1 transfer) transfers before I finally felt good about fiber on the stationary comb to pull it out. I think maybe I was wasting fiber because probably I could have stopped before that? It would get to the point where all of the obviously short pieces were pulled off, most of the VM was pulled off and I’ll do one more transfer and I noticed you can’t get all the fiber off the combs so you lose some every pass. So maybe I was wasting fiber…

c) I need a higher railing. I don’t like having to crouch and I really don’t want to sit and comb the fiber. So I might have to improvise. I even loved doing this outside. I think many people walking down the street who looked at the side of our house were mighty confused, but even though the breeze interfered at times, I loved it.

d) Make sure you have a diz ready before you start. Really. I improvised adn yanked the top off a spice bottle.

spice bottle diz

The little hole in the center of all the big holes worked pretty well. It was a little too big? I’m not sure. I might need to find something with a smaller hole. But every time I popped my head back in the house and left the combs on the railing I panicked that some annoying bratty kid (we have many of them that walk by the house: they like to crush my landlady’s flowers and plants and throw trash) would get curious and decide it was worth braving the jungle of bushes and trees and plants that make the sidewalk to the side of our house nearly impassable in the summer.

So the last observation is, grab water, one of the phone extensions, something to use as a diz, the grips, combs, pad, something to hold trash and something to hold little balls of fiber before setting up outside.

So in an hour I managed to make four little fluff balls of fiber from the mess in the first picture. Three were more blueish and the one in the top right corner is more purplish. The colors aren’t very true on my monitor, but they are close.

Balls of fiber

I can’t imagine that even all together they come up to an ounce. I have no idea how much they weigh because my little scale broke a while back and I haven’t replaced it. It broke rather strangely and now I’m wary that if I buy another one it too will break.

The mohair killed the adventure however. This completely grosses me out for reasons I can’t understand. I opened up the zip lock baggie with the dyed mohair locks and grabbed a piece.


WHAT ARE THOSE DOTS??????? And when I grabbed that I noticed a big black nasty looking glob mashed in with some fiber. I shoved the whole mess back in the bag and ran it all to the trash. I have no idea what was going on there. I don’t care. It felt gross and looked gross. Maybe if the whole nasty mess hadn’t been dyed and I had bought it expecting fecal matter and whatever those dots are then I wouldn’t have been grossed out. I mean, I can clean up after a dog and after kids and sick adults. Life happens. No big deal. But that. That. The problem with the picture is that you can’t feel the nasty nasty nasty texture. I grabbed the lock and at first it was so silky and then it was a little gritty and my skin started to shudder right off my body as I peered at that bit of fiber and …. I don’t know. *shudders* I went immediately back inside and washed my hands with hot water and antibacterial soap two or three times in a row and off and on again in the evening as the memory haunted me.

I think the bag of pink and blue Lincoln is probably ok, but considering I bought both from the same place I’m now scared to touch the bag. *sighs*