Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Bags, Bags, and... Did I Say Bags?

Welcome back!

I hope you all had a lovely weekend. I slept. And slept. AND SLEPT. I've got to cut back on those pills because... I sleep. I was going to knit most of the night on my Monkey socks. And what did I do? I fell asleep with my coffee cup in my hand. I haven't even taken my pills for last night. Argh. I have to get back on schedule.


Some of you may remember that I was going to show you pictures of my bags and indicate which ones were for sale. However, after trying to pick up all my bags, it rapidly became evident that I don't have room in this house to spread them out, let alone put them all in less than ten pictures. So I decided to take pictures of just the ones that are for sale. With two exceptions, they are all by Martha of Green Mountain Knitting Bags. All are brand-new; I haven't used any of them. The other two are by Offhand Designs. They're also unused. I just have way too many bags, so I promised Hubster that I'd get rid of them. Should they not sell here, I'll put them on eBay. I'd hate to do that because of the fees, but I do have to get rid of them. So, without further ado, here they are.

The two to the right are the Offhand Design bags.

What's so unusual about that little red bag with the chickens on it is that it was one of Martha's first prototypes. I bought it because it's one of a kind. Well, they all are (Martha's bags, that is), but that one is never to be seen again. They're made of chenille, tapestry, and/or upholstery material, or a combination thereof (I think the chicken bag is a heavy cotton upholstery-type fabric).

I'm asking $125 each (postage included) with the exception of the little chicken bag. That one is $50. I paid around $140 for most of them - some of them were as much as $175. The prices are negotiable to a point. I'm already taking a loss, which is okay, but I also can't lose a ton of money on them. I hope you understand. Her bags are in high demand and usually sell out almost as quickly as she can post them (which is once a week on Thursdays). She still does customs, but the waiting list is astronomical. So here's your chance to own one and not have to wait.

If you're interested in any of them or would like to see pictures of the interiors (most of them have pockets), e-mail me at pamtheknitter@gmail.com, and I'll be happy to send them to you.

Sales pitch over.

In between all the sleeping, I did manage to get a good deal done on the Monkeys. They're gong very well, although I haven't handled DPN's in a long time. It took some getting used to having five needles all waving around like an octopus. I can't post pictures of them because I know my pal reads this, so you'll just have to wait until after I mail them to her and she's opened them. Suffice it to say that they're gorgeous, if I do say so myself.

My question of the week is: Why are some of us cute when we're bald and toothless?

I'm not cute anymore. I guess I'm still sort of pretty, although I'm fading like the petals of a rose too long on the stem. But then again, I'm accepting age gracefully. I've earned every one of these lines and impending wrinkles. Life has a way of etching itself onto our faces, our hands, our bodies. So we come full circle, some of us returning to being bald and toothless and even cute again. While I'm not old enough to be cute in a doddering sort of way, the disease has robbed me of my teeth and hair. It usually doesn't bother me unless we're out to dinner and I bite into something kind of tough or sticky and... well, I'm sure you get the picture. It makes for less than a stellar dining experience.

Enough maudlin shit.

Tonight, I have to go teach the third installment of the dreaded sock class. My students are going to learn how to do gussets. They should be able to grasp this one, since it's the same as doing the toes. Then the fun really starts. Then they begin to short-row it up the heel flap. And then the fun REALLY starts. Then we learn how to meld the flap stitches with the gusset stitches. That turns the heel. I may need to call on one of you lovely readers for some Valium. Better yet, Ativan. Then I won't remember the evening.

Or I could just take one of the magic pills and fall asleep during class. But that wouldn't work, either. Then I'd drool all over myself and really look doddering. But not cute.

So that's all I have today, dear readers. Hopefully, the Yarn Fairy will arrive today overloaded with goodies, since there was no mail yesterday. And as much as I love having Hubster home, he'll be the one to get the mail.

Because I'll be passed out in the Monster, drooling.


Lone Knitter said...

You must be so brave to teach sock knitting. I'm not a very good sock-knitting teacher. I taught a few girls in my knitting circle how to do a magic loop sock, but they already had sock-knitting skills. I don't know if I would fare so well with sock-knitting virgins!

Pam the Yarn Goddess said...

Thank you, Lone. It's funny - I don't have much patience with anything else, but I have all the patience in the world with my students. I do get frustrated and go outside for a few minutes to recharge, but when I come back, I'm just fine. I think being prepared for each class makes all the difference in the world. If you go in there with no clue as to what you're going to say, then you're going to run into trouble. We all have to pop our cherries some time. ;)

I think you'd do just fine. Once you've done it a few times, it's a piece of cake. Usually LOL.