Well, it's that time of year again. Time to make New Year's Resolutions that I probably won't keep and a few that I will definitely decide to accomplish.
To accomplish a goal, you have to set a deadline, design the steps to get there and break it down in to parts that can easily be accomplished. I get that. But I've also learned that the goals that I should accomplish (lose weight) are not the ones that I'm motivated to achieve. So this year, I've decided that I'm going to set goals that will be fun for me.
First goal, knit my husband a pair of socks for every day of the week. After all, he really does like my hand knit socks and he deserves a little fiber love for all the time he spends listening to my endless conversations about wool, patterns, etc.
Second, spin enough of my new white wool roving to make 3 skeins of lovely yarn for my first dyeing project. I love the look of hand-dyed yarn and envy all of those talented individuals that make the lovely fiber that I lust after each time I cruise the web.
Clear out my yarn stash. I like many fiberholics I can't resist a soft, fluffy, squishy bundle of yarn. How will I clear out my stash, well Christmas 2011 is coming.
Finally, weave a scarf on my Spencer rigid heddle loom. For those weaving experts out there, I realize that my little loom is classified as a toy; but, I've figured out a way to get a nice tight weave that will make a lovely scarf.
So, now that I've written down those goals/resolutions. I guess I'd better get down to organizing the steps to get them done. Yes, I'll suffer periods of time where the goals will be ignored or I'll wonder why I set myself up for failure. But, can a fiberholic among us really say that these resolutions aren't worth the price? Let the suffering begin :)
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Sister Secrets
When my sister and I were very young mothers we shared secrets. Like all secrets, ours required that we be quick-witted, stealthy, and have above-average smarts.
My sister's secret was hiding the pages of the phone bill before the hubby noticed all of the collect calls. You see, the collect calls were from her sister who was in crisis at the time and no matter what the time of day or night, she accepted those phone calls. As a result, many pages of the phone bill magically disappeared. To this day, I can visualize her dashing home to meet the mailman before her hubby arrived to snatch the bill out of the mail box. I'm sure that eventually we were found out.
Our other secret was our secret crocheting pattern addiction. We had a favorite store that sent out catalogs each month with the cute new patterns. We would save up our money, split the cost, mail in our order (yes this was prior to the internet) and wait for the goodies to arrive. Once that cherished bundle arrived in the mail it was off to the photocopier, the yarn store and then a little quality time with those patterns, the yarn and my sister.
This memory came to me the other day when I stumbled upon one of those bundles of photocopied patterns from long ago. It brought back so many fond memories and the simple pleasure of having a sister to share secrets.
Psst....don't tell.
My sister's secret was hiding the pages of the phone bill before the hubby noticed all of the collect calls. You see, the collect calls were from her sister who was in crisis at the time and no matter what the time of day or night, she accepted those phone calls. As a result, many pages of the phone bill magically disappeared. To this day, I can visualize her dashing home to meet the mailman before her hubby arrived to snatch the bill out of the mail box. I'm sure that eventually we were found out.
Our other secret was our secret crocheting pattern addiction. We had a favorite store that sent out catalogs each month with the cute new patterns. We would save up our money, split the cost, mail in our order (yes this was prior to the internet) and wait for the goodies to arrive. Once that cherished bundle arrived in the mail it was off to the photocopier, the yarn store and then a little quality time with those patterns, the yarn and my sister.
This memory came to me the other day when I stumbled upon one of those bundles of photocopied patterns from long ago. It brought back so many fond memories and the simple pleasure of having a sister to share secrets.
Psst....don't tell.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Thanks to Mom
I have to thank my mom for my addiction to knitting. Little did she know during that Campfire Girl meeting when she had that small group of girls with sharp pointy sticks and yarn, that she would plant the seed of obsession in me.
I remember being so uncoordinated that I held the right needle between my knees and used the left needle to make the stitches. And casting on wasn't a skill I learned until many years later when I took the art back up. It was only one project (house shoes I believe) but it planted a seed that has lasted a lifetime.
It's funny, I don't ever remember seeing my mother knit again. It could have been that the stress of dealing with that many young ladies was too much. Or maybe I just didn't see her knitting. I do remember her crocheting and I seem to recall that one time she told me that knitting made her too tense.
So, thanks mom for giving me a lifetime of enjoyment. Mom, I realize that you probably don't even know what an influence this knitting lesson had on my life. You probably don't know that knitting was my stress reliever when life was knocking me around a bit; you didn't now that knitting allowed me the joy of giving a simple gift to those I loved; knitting got me through the some of the worst days of my life. Knitting is my therapy and I owe my sanity to my little knitting lesson from my mom.
I remember being so uncoordinated that I held the right needle between my knees and used the left needle to make the stitches. And casting on wasn't a skill I learned until many years later when I took the art back up. It was only one project (house shoes I believe) but it planted a seed that has lasted a lifetime.
It's funny, I don't ever remember seeing my mother knit again. It could have been that the stress of dealing with that many young ladies was too much. Or maybe I just didn't see her knitting. I do remember her crocheting and I seem to recall that one time she told me that knitting made her too tense.
So, thanks mom for giving me a lifetime of enjoyment. Mom, I realize that you probably don't even know what an influence this knitting lesson had on my life. You probably don't know that knitting was my stress reliever when life was knocking me around a bit; you didn't now that knitting allowed me the joy of giving a simple gift to those I loved; knitting got me through the some of the worst days of my life. Knitting is my therapy and I owe my sanity to my little knitting lesson from my mom.
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