Yellowbird Yarn Room

A word can be worth a thousand pictures

Forgive the fiber-free post but I've had this thought in my head for several weeks now.  Does that ever happen to you? 

It's a bit like having a song stuck in your head, and sometimes the only way to free your mind is to sing it out loud and find solace in getting it stuck in someone else's head.  Then it's up to them to keep singing or pass it on.

It can start as a word or a phrase, but it can grow if it takes hold...and even bloom if it's lovely.  It can remain just a favorite phrase to visit when the mood fits, or it can turn into an entire one-sided philosophical argument that bubbles up and alters your mood despite your best efforts to contain it.

But I do have a reason for my thought, and that reason is social media.

After countless months of ignoring the growing internet buzz, I'm finally enjoying the fruits of Pinterest.  For someone like myself, who processes information best in visual ways, this is a virtual Eden that allows me to pick and choose what I like best and organize it into manageable plots.   

Niiiiice...

I've been on Pinterest for a number of weeks now (I couldn't tell you how many...time has altered itself quite a bit ever since) and have been enveloped by thoughts and ideas and pretty pictures, but I'm thinking today of one particular thought.

Have you noticed that words have become very popular?

They're pinned in snippets.  Funny little thoughts.  Inspirational quotes.

They're used in decorating.  Painted on pillows.  Decaled on walls.

They're used in fashion.  Worn on fingers...and nails.

They're everywhere.

I've heard arguments about how texting and the internet are killing language, but from what I've seen language is alive and well. 

Just more succinct.

It's Super Bowl Sunday...

...and I live in a house full of boys.

Unfortunately, I've never really understood the appeal of football.  I'm much more of a baseball kinda gal.  I don't think I'd mind watching soccer.  Or tennis when my kids are playing.  And golf is okay when I'm knitting lace or something that requires my full attention.  But football's just not my thing.  The rules hold no sense for me.

My husband still holds out hope, though.  Not his breath...just hope.  He's a wise man.

Now, my sons have never been overly interested in watching sports.  Not even baseball (with the exception of actually being at a game because...well...that's just a good time!).  Sports on TV always just seemed to bore them, and they never showed any strong allegiance with any particular team.  

But something changed over the last year.  I don't know what happened.  Perhaps their father's enthusiasm just finally won them over.  Perhaps the oldest has simply reached an age when he enjoys the comaraderie and banter with his friends, and the youngest has followed suit in the way that younger brothers do.

It's a mystery.

But there's one thing I do know:  my house has exploded in black and gold.

Yes, my husband is a Steelers fan.  The only thing he has ever asked me to knit for him was a stocking cap that came clear down his back, had Steelers stripes, and the Steelers logo positioned on the back of his head.  And I hadn't done much colorwork by that time.

I've done even less since.

No evil 'round here...

For Christmas this year my boys each got a fleece Steelers blanket and a Steelers quilt made by my mom, and my husband got a Steelers rice pillow (aka bed-warmer), also made by mom.  Since then my oldest has made a couple of ball caps out of Duck tape in Steelers colors, and both boys decided that they had to have arm warmers with Steelers stripes.

Well.  I may not get football, but I do get knitting for team spirit.

It's just a shame their team's not in the Super Bowl.

Good things come to those who wait.

Like a pair of earrings that I love.

A chunky ring, made of cutlery, that actually looks decent on my stubby little fingers.

A non-frosted, easily-applied tinted lip balm.

Real.  Denim.  Jeans.  For women.  Boot cut, mid-rise, 100% cotton (not a single fraction of a percent of stretch of any kind), reasonably-priced, old-school jeans.

Now.  If only someone would make a big, deep, feed-sack of a purse with two long straps that will stay on my right shoulder (even over my heavy winter coat) after I throw it on effortlessly with my right hand (because my left if busy grabbing my travel mug) and is made out of ultra-soft and supple chocolate brown leather.

Well, I can't make that myself.  But I can make this.

Someday.  But I am still in the midst of several different projects at the moment so I will have to wait.  Patiently. 

But that's ok.  Apparently, it works for me.

I do loves me a good dichotomy!

Oh, Joan, you lovely lady, you!

I walked into Judy's Ice Cream for Open Knit last Thursday to find a happy little pressie waiting for me at my usual spot:

All sweet, no sour.

Peeking out of the top of the tissue were two very different sets of needles - one set square and sophistocated, one set round and rustic.

Both sets the epitome of all I adore!

Set #1:  Square and Sophisticated

Size 11 in Ebony with funky silver beads at the end.

Set #2:  Round and Rustic

Size 8 in an unnamed wood with a small amount of bark left on the end.  (No, they don't glow - they were just really difficult to photograph.)

The contrast between these two styles just make me so happy, and I can't wait to use them!  They were made by hand, inspired by materials available to the crafter, and gifted to a highly appreciative recipient.

It doesn't get much better than that. 

Now, I have made one small error in telling you about these needles.  I called them "needles".  Joan calls them "sticks", and here is her description of why as it appears on each tag:

I don't label these "needles" because they are individually made and each is unique.  They are hand shaped, hand sanded, then hand buffed with beeswax for smoothness.  I use hardwood scraps from woodworkers and repurposed fabric for the cases.  Four sided needles are based on the perimeter, and labeled as the closest size to standard round needles...

You can find more of Joan's work at River City, and each set is priced very closely to what you would pay for a factory-made set at a box store.  Given the thought and time and effort that goes into them, these would be my go-to needles (I mean, sticks!) every time.

All I need now is a project to go with them!   

Losing my grip

I returned to Cranford today, and it was a lovely day for it.  Gray and rainy outside, and my most important task being that of finishing a special order.  So as soon as I saw the kids off to school, I took my cup of coffee and my knitting and curled up in front of the dvr.

My only regret is that I had coffee.  It really should have been tea.

A few years ago, such marathon knitting as these hands have seen over this past month would not have been possible.  I had a pretty tight grip on those needles, particularly with my left (and non-dominant) hand.  A pain would eventually develop behind my left thumb that would linger for days, and I would be forced to set all projects aside.

And, yes, this did make we question the sagacity of starting my own knitting-based business, but what can I say.  The sacrifices we make to follow our passions, eh?

But something surreal has happened lately.  All of a sudden, I've loosened up!

Now, yes, I have my high-strung moments, but much fewer than I used to (a change I frequently attribute to knitting, though the good nature of my husband and the unpredictability of kids have played no small role).  It's simply in my nature to hold tight so that nothing goes astray.

Particularly when knitting in the round, which I have been doing all week long.  I pull tight on the yarn for the first stitch or two...or three...of each dpn to minimize the ladder-effect.

But around a month ago I decided to take on my first large-scale project in a very long time (a project to be discussed in more detail after it has been gifted), and it was a project I wanted to finish quickly.  It called for a bulky yarn on size 11 needles, which appears to have been the perfect combination to force a change in my grip.

Suddenly, I could almost feel my left hand relaxing.  It seemed to start guiding the needle instead of controling it and trying to force it to do what I wanted.  It was as if a switch had been flipped, causing me to get a grip that was both more effective and less painful.

Huh.

Well, I can't explain it, and I certainly won't question it, but I do share this development with you in order to express my one deep thought of the day:  sometimes the best way to gain control is by letting go.

Isn't it marvelous when a hobby serves as the perfect philosophical analogy?