Since one cannot spin without fiber, I decided to drag out the Rubbermaid bin which contains my fiber (at great peril to life and limb, I might add), and take a picture of that as well. For your added viewing pleasure (like you've never seen any of this before, either), I present to you, the Fiber.
Since it's difficult for me to name all these without a picture to stare at (I was an idiot and uploaded from Blogger instead of using Flickr), I can tell you this much: these are from Funky Carolina, Perchance to Knit, Elizabeth's Fiber & Yarn, FatCatKnits, and Copper Pot Woolies. The big black/rainbow colored one in the center back (I think) is from Susie at Perchance to Knit. She enclosed it with a yarn order as a gift. She's such a sweetheart. If you ever get the chance, check out her shop at:
So what have I done with this fiber? Nothing. Not a damned thing. Well, that's not entirely true. I've fondled it. I've hugged it. I've taken it out and looked at it. It's a paltry amount compared to Mount Yarnamajaro. But it will make some gorgeous yarn, certainly enough for several pairs of socks (and perhaps a shawl, should I decide to spin laceweight).
I don't mean to suddenly go off into left field, but I just heard the mail truck outside (its' door makes a distinctive sound when it opens), and after glancing at the clock, I realized it was too early for Art, our usual mailman, to arrive. Oh shit, I'm thinking... what the hell did I order that a special truck was dispatched for? Did I order some huge mountain of yarn I've forgotten about? And worst of all, I hear the footsteps approaching. Oh no! OH NO! The doorbell just rang! (By now, I'm scrambling madly to remember what's coming and what I'll tell Hubster, who is at this very moment heading for the door.) It's a special mailman! NOOOO!!!!!! Hubster is signing for this monster package that required an entire mail truck to deliver and making a sarcastic joke about the number of packages that arrive here. Uh oh... the package is in Hubster's hands. I ask him (innocently, of course) what he got, since I heard the mailman ask him his name. It must be something from Cisco, I'm thinking. Hubster is half-asleep and can't figure out who the package is from, and I know good and well that many packages that come have his name on them because my PayPal account is in his name, so that's what many people use. He hands this enormous, badly beaten-up box to me. I can't find the sender, either, but I notice that one of the tags on the top say "Global Priority Mail". Uh oh. Then I turn the box around and see, on the side:
Now I'm really sweating, and my mind is going a hundred miles an hour. Thank goodness he's not fully coherent yet, but I'm running out of time. I grab the box cutter, slit all the tape, and lying safely cuddled inside is:
I forgot that I had them commissioned for my grands. Whew! It wasn't for me! I have to remember to write the lady who made these beautiful horses a thank-you note for her hard work and wonderful craftswomanship. They were a custom job. You see, we're going to be raising our granddaughters (probably beginning in November or so), and I'm trying to get some unique toys that they can snuggle with. Since there are two of them, I have to buy two of everything. She was kind enough to show me a variety of yarns, and we worked together to make these two. They actually stand on their own, albeit a little wobbly (just as a real baby horse would do). I can't wait to see the kids' faces when they get their stuffies: a doggie, rabbit, the horses, and their backpacks. If any of you handcraft stuffies, please let me know. I'd like to get them OOAK items crafted by people who read here and shop at places such as Etsy. No... I don't love the little mokeys. Nope. Not one bit. They're just my heart and soul. OK, since I know you asked, here they are when they were just mere babes (and I KNOW you haven't seen these before).
That good-looking guy is Hubster. You think I'm bad with loving the kids, you should see him. I rue the day some poor sap comes to the door to ask one of them on a date. I think Hubster already has his list of questions ready, as well as telling the unlucky dude that he and his date will be driven wherever they want to go. Personally, I think it's sweet and endearing. They adore their grandpa, too. Every time the phone rings or someone comes to the door, they start yelling, "Grandpa! Grandpa!" Screw Grandma. I'm just the one with the big boobs they used to love to sleep on. Of course, they're 3-1/2 now, so they're actually little people, but I so love the baby pictures of them.
So that's pretty much my post for today. I didn't get a thing done this weekend other than knit. I thought I would be done with the poncho, but after yet another unscheduled nap, I had knit another whopping 15 stitches. An improvement over the night before, but not much. So I knitted until I reached the end of the skein and put it away. There's always tonight. Maybe tomorrow, I'll have some pictures of the ponchos for you.
But don't count on it.