Back to the regularly scheduled programming

Admittedly my last few posts have been off the knitting road. And rather depressing. I think they can be summed up with a line from one of my favourite songs: "They send these things to try us, and try us they do."

On that note, I now return to knitting content.

I recently engaged in what I have been assured is appropriate female response to stress: I went shopping. Chris over at My Favorite Thimble announced that the Blackthorn DPNs were getting a makeover. Now, I was pretty darn happy with my original sets & had already slated money for more. So, of course, I had to wait and try the new ones.

Opinion: Worth every penny.
The old Blackthorns were lovely. One of my favourite needles indeed. But they had some roughness to them that irritated the base of my fingers. They also, being completely handcrafted, weren't always round throughout the length. I did enjoy the "frill" of the surface and how I didn't have to worry about the needles slipping out of the work.

One thing Chris had said was that the Next Generation would be smoother. I was a little concerned, as I hate chasing escapees. As soon as the new ones arrived I popped 3 into the current WIP and left the other needles as originals. My fingers quickly distinguished which was which. The new needles are definitely a different tactile encounter:
Not slick like worked metal, but smooth in the way that your fingertip appreciates the curve and tension of skin when you caress it down the line of a lover's jaw; with that delicate warmth from body heat. Truly enjoyable.




As for the tips: the tips are decidely more pointy, with a taper that starts farther from the point. Honestly, if you were so inclined, a set of 00s and a voodoo doll could provide hours of amusement. They are much nicer for digging into a p3tog, or a nupp. At the same time, they're not so pointy that if you're a tip toucher You know who you are, your finger would hurt.



Add to all of that the lack of weight and the flexible strength, and they're a winner. Which is good, because my method of displaying sock yarn meant that's primarily what survived the flood and I see alot of socks in my future.

(Photos are of US size 0s; 2.0mm)

The end of the flood story

I do not recommend that a highly stressed person (namely me) be locked in a car for 20 some odd hours by herself. Since I felt odd having conversations with my imaginary friend, I opted for “imaginary” conversations with real friends; so if any of you found yourself psychically drained…apologies.

In youth we seek excitement. The big dreams, the ambitions. I wanted to be an anthropologist but didn’t know how I’d pay the bills. Then I wanted to be a knitwear designer whose originals went for thousands. (Hey it was High School). But mostly I wanted to be safe, warm, dry, and fed.

As we age, we realize that excitement is usually something bad. Something that breaks, goes wrong, hurts, or crushes us---becoming one more bead in a rosary of sorrows, delicately slipping in place, counting down the experiences of a lifetime.

And, as you finger this Rosary, it’s easy to count how life knocks you down, you get up, knocks you down, you get up, knocks you down…you think “perhaps if I stop getting up things would change”. But you stagger drunkenly up and go forth.
Why the continued getting up?

Because all things of beauty require balance and space. And in order to have a balanced life with freedom to love, you have to form other beads in the design. Beads that shimmer with a glow from the heat of a passionate heart, or beads that twinkle with the crystal clearness of laughter. Even beads with delicate facets that reflect contentment.

At the end of the drive, I found that obviously since neither of us was dead, nothing was lost that we couldn’t live without. Some furniture, some yarn, a fleece, things from the kitchen that had been stored during the floor remodel, most of the books, and weirdly the lawn tractor.

It was going to be a week before they replaced the furnace, so we decided to ignore the stresses, and go on our vacation. Because, in the end, I did grow up to get exactly what I wanted--- I am loved, safe, warm and fed.

Sights of Sedona

Loopy attempts to climb CoffeePot Rock.