June 18, 2009

Dance, Weave, Knit

I didn't go to the TNNA convention this year, because the dates conflicted with Allegra's dance recital. Above, she is pictured as a huntsman in this year's Sleeping Beauty. The huntsmen were the part given to her jazz class. In addition to jazz, she danced tap, ballet, and modern, and had a tap-dancing solo this year. Hard to get pictures of her that aren't a blur of motion, but will try to post another one or two over the next few days. Also, I am thinking of this as the "year of dancing in the dark" -- many of the dances had atmospheric, dim lighting, which also made the photo-taking difficult. For example, her ballet class was a group of thorns and brambles threatening the prince -- and if you didn't know which kid was yours, and where she was onstage and when, it was really hard to pick her out among all the other similarly-dressed, dimly-lit girls.

Rather than TNNA, what I went to was the weaving workshop with Judith MacKenzie McCuin that's held annually at Suzanne Pedersen's house. I went to this workshop 5 years ago ... came immediately home from that and wove one more project ... and haven't woven since. I was shocked at how much I had forgotten! (You tie the cross in your warp? What's a cross, and how on earth do you tie it? And so forth and so on for me, with the most basic of questions about things I used to know, for the 5 days of the workshop.) I was able to go to the weaving workshop during the days, and go to the dance recital in the evenings, happy as the proverbial clam.

Here's a picture of Judith tying a replacement heddle in someone's loom. The workshop format is that each weaver works on her individual projects, and when teaching moments occur, we have the opportunity to see Judith demonstrate various techniques.

And here is proof that Suzanne actually took a few minutes to sit at her own loom and weave on the baby blanket project that's been on her loom for awhile:

Suzanne usually was so busy, fixing breakfasts, lunches, and snacks for us, that we had to insist that she get out of the kitchen and sit at her loom. (Another student, Lisa, is standing at the warping board, winding for a new project.)

I chose for my refresher project a very simple, plain weave scarf, following Judith's instructions for "Mother MacKenzie's Miracle Warp Scarf." It's a miracle because it's foolproof, and it's a miracle because it's an easy way to use leftovers. You wind an extra-long warp, then fold the length in half so that the width becomes a mirror image of itself. Voila! I'll confess to breathing a sigh of relief when Judith and I talked about what size of a scarf I would like, and we were talking in inches! In that environment (that is, Suzanne's house), I have gotten so used to measurements always being in centimeters for Nihon Vogue class, although, even after two years of Nihon classes, thinking in centimeters doesn't come naturally to me. I could say to Judith that I wanted my scarf to be sixty inches long and eight inches wide, and we understood each other perfectly! No looks of puzzlement between us, as sometimes happens with Jean Wong and me.

My scarf on the loom:

It's a mixture of yarns from my stash: Kidsilk Haze, Zephyr, and Douceur Swirls --

and I am really pleased with both the color and the feel of it! It took a lot of concentration for me to place the weft with my beater, rather than bang down the beater and pound the weft in, but I think all of that effort paid off. The Douceur Swirls turned out to be a very delicate fiber for a warp, and two of these warp threads broke when I was weaving the scarf. Judith turned these into teaching moments: we tied in fresh threads, and pulled them through the scarf once it was woven and taken off the loom. The fresh threads replaced the old, broken ones perfectly.

I really, really enjoy weaving. In yoga teacher training class, we talk about "stilling the random fluctuations of the mind." Well, there were whole hours during the five days of the workshop where I was so completely focused on the fiber in front of me that my mind had no opportunity for flitting about thinking random thoughts.

I've warped my loom for a second project -- dishtowels, since practically everyone else in the workshop was weaving dishtowels. Stay tuned to see whether I really get back to weaving...

... and now to write about knitting. I have been in a huge knitting slump since the day after Thanksgiving of last year. We were anticipating having stay-over company in December, at the beginning of the month and again at the end. And the day after Thanksgiving was the day we began cleaning house. And I don't mean just a little tidying up to make things look presentable. We did a lot of deep cleaning, and did some major re-arranging of furniture, including adding in a few new pieces. During the cleaning process, I came across knitting project after knitting project, stalled on the needles, abandoned. I had a knitter's dark night of the soul.

That experience made me gunshy of starting anything new. (After I first wrote this, I realized the obvious: I've also been gunshy of working on any of those stalled projects! Didn't knit a stitch, all of December; tried to start a sock in February, the day after Cappy died, but didn't like the needles I was using and stopped working on it after about three rounds....)

On May 30th in Nihon Vogue class I cast on for the current assigment, and have knitted this much so far (7-1/4 inches -- sorry, Jean, that I am not speaking in centimeters!):

I'm using the gansey sweater assignment to knit something that's been on my Must-Knit List for a long time -- I even blogged about it here. It's the River Grass Gansey from Jamieson's Shetland Knitting Book 2. As I wrote about in that earlier blog entry, I have been stymied for years about how to adjust the sizing for this sweater to come out with something that would fit me. Well, Nihon Vogue is all about tailoring to fit, so this is the perfect time to make this sweater. I dutifully made my three huge swatches prior to that May 30th class -- used up an entire 245 yard skein for the swatches! Consulted with Jean Wong, and now have the sweater in progress, feeling fairly confident that it will fit.

Alas, Book 2, which has always been one of my all-time favorites, just recently went out of print, and Two Swans has no copies available. I am using traditional 5ply gansey wool, British Breeds, in the color Fleet. I may be out of stock of Jamieson's Book 2 and Jamieson's color cards -- but I am well stocked in British Breeds 5ply gansey yarn -- check it out!

June 03, 2009

ABOUT THOSE COLOR CARDS....

Here it is, June already! And this month marks the one-year anniversary of when I last had any stock of Jamieson's color cards. That's right -- for a whole year, I haven't had any color cards. The mill is in the process of revising the color card to show the new Spindrift colors now available, and, apparently, it is a very long process.

And I know that many, many, many of you knitters out there want color cards! Especially new color cards that will show the new Spindrift colors that are now available! I get about 4 requests per day for color cards, and I really try to meet each request graciously ... even though, in effect, I am saying No, no, no, sorry, no over and over and over to the point where I am sick of hearing myself say it. I used to tell people I'd have cards in a couple of months ... but as the months have turned into a year, I no longer even pretend to know when I might have more color cards.

Last week, I received an exceedingly nasty e-mail from a knitter who had inquired previously about getting a color card. Obviously, I must be deliberately withholding a color card from her! Obviously, by withholding a color card from her, I am ruining her life! She called into question my character; I think she would go so far as to put me out of business, if she had that power.

What I really wanted to reply to her was: You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar! Sending me an exceedingly nasty e-mail does not make me want to send you a color card, even if I had one to send.

Instead, what I wrote to her is what I tell everyone: I will add you to my list of people to notify, and when I get more color cards in, I'll let you know and you can buy one then.

Meanwhile, let's keep a sense of perspective about this. If there's a particular color or colors that you are interested in, the best suggestion I can make (until the new cards are here) is that you buy a skein of it so that you can see that color up close and personal. Remember, you're building your paint box for Fair Isle knitting....

May 11, 2009

NO SWAN FLU HERE

Yes, the Swans are alive and well, and swimming in new colors!

New Kidsilk Haze shades for spring:

Ghost (hey, I don't name these things!) - a so-pale-it's-almost-white gray

Flower - pink

Ember - nice gold

Garden - a bright, light green

And a ton of new Jamieson's Shetland Spindrift colors. I'll highlight a few of the colors here on Ideaphoria, and let you browse the twoswansyarns.com site to see the others.

Anyone who's studied the Spindrift line will have noticed that tan colors have been missing. Now, that gap has been filled. My favorite is

the heathery Camel

or you can also choose from the solids Oatmeal or Cashew.

The long-awaited Autumn (sometimes called Hairst, the Scottish word for that same season) is now available, along with

Marjoram, which is a little less bright than Pistachio or Chartreuse

and

Delph, one of my all-time faves.

I can't resist jewel tones, so I would be hard-pressed to say which of these are my favorite:

Cosmos, which is darker than the Spindrift version of Midnight, and richer than Dark Navy

Conifer, a rich, dark green (may look a little washed out in my photo)

Cardinal, a cool red.

And many more new colors of Spindrift. I am still in the process of uploading them to the Two Swans site, so if you don't find what you're looking for there, please ask.

And, last but not least, my friend Susanna Hansson twisted my arm to get me to stock even more new colors in Satakieli, among them these:

499 Cranberry

938 Raisin, a dark, purply-brown

770 Turquoise Green

981 Sage

along with several other shades of Satakieli new to Two Swans. Again, I'm still photographing and uploading the images for these new colors, so if you don't see what you're looking for, please ask.

April 29, 2009

OVERHEARD

I overheard a woman today talking on her cell phone about "the swan flu." She was quite insistent about it being "the swan flu" to whomever it was on the receiving end of the call.

That's the swine flu, lady! Jeez.

April 06, 2009

DER WUNDERHUND

Lady says, "Thanks, everybody, for all the get-well wishes!"

Lady is back to doing almost all of her normal doggy activities -- sneaking the cat's food, and I even caught her trying to rub her neck in something stinky in the back yard. Since the surgery, much of the time she hasn't looked very pretty, so I haven't wanted to post photos of her. But she had a good fur day on Saturday, and the weather cooperated beautifully, so here goes!

She had a minor complication last week, which gave rise to a trip to the vet's on Wednesday and again on Friday. She developed a pocket of fluid, called a seroma, from the surgery. On Wednesday, the swollen spot was just the size of one of my fingers, and I could see a little bit of bruising on her skin. Dr. Amy put Lady on antibiotics. (We're on a first-name basis, now, the vet and I; I must be her best customer.) By Friday, though, the swelling was really pronounced and Lady was leaking fluid through her incision. So back to the vet we went. Dr. Amy drained the fluid and also inserted a drain tube. We are keeping Lady bandaged up so she doesn't leak all over my carpets.

Many of you have asked how Lady is getting around, and the answer is: Really well! Here's a shot of her from her good side:

And here she is in midstride, in full tail-wagging, dogtrotting motion, as seen from the amputated side:

What is interesting to me about this picture is that she has all her weight on her two left legs. She walks, or runs, by alternating steps with the front legs, and the back leg hops along behind. She isn't quite stable enough to make a tight turn, and she can't jump like she used to, but otherwise, she is very strong.

March 24, 2009

THE PHONE CALL I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR

Lady's surgeon phoned this morning with the results of the pathology report. The amputation was successful in that there are the hoped-for margins of healthy tissue around the removed tumor. This is good news! It means that Lady will need no further treatments, except for checkups every six months. Whew!

The type of cancer that Lady had, chondrosarcoma, is slow-growing and slow to metastize. The CT-scans she had on February 27th showed that her lungs were clear; the lungs would be the most likely place for the cancer to spread.

To celebrate, Scott bought me a bottle of red wine:

Dunham Cellars' Three Legged Red. The dog on the label, Port, had an amputated front leg; Lady has both front legs but her right hind leg was amputated.

Lady is doing better and better every day, in her recovery from the surgery and adjustment to being tri-pawed. Tomorrow, another trip to the vet's office, this time to have the sutures out.

March 14, 2009

LIGHTNING STRIKES TWICE

Our dog Lady and our cat Cappuccino. Photo taken August 2006, at the horse riding arena in our backyard. Cappuccino liked to walk along under the chain to scratch his back. Lady is in the herding position, herding Cappy.

On the 5th of February of this year, I took Cappy to the vet because he was eating only a fraction of his normal amount. An x-ray showed that he had a large tumor in his left lung, which the vet said was undoubtedly cancer. We talked about various procedures for diagnosing what type of cancer it might be; we talked about various treatment options. He was put on an antidepressant to stimulate his appetite, and the vet taught me how to inject subcutaneous fluids. I thought I had time to think over what the next step would be, whether to have an ultrasound to get a diagnosis, whether to go on to chemotherapy if it would be the type of cancer that would respond to chemo.

As it turned out, I did not have time to think any of these things over, at all. Cappy rallied for a couple of days, eating normally and being hydrated. But only seven days after that x-ray, on the 12th of February I came home from the Madrona Fiber Arts retreat to find that he was wheezing and couldn't draw a full breath. I tried to rush him to the vet's, but he didn't make it, poor guy.

A week later, I took Lady to the family vet. Lady had been limping for as long as Cappy had been sick. I thought she'd torn her cruciate ligament, and at first glance, the vet agreed with me, because that was what Lady's behavior was, tucking her right hind leg up against her body and wheeling around on her three good legs. But then the doctor took x-rays, and came back into the exam room with them, saying, "I didn't even want to show you these." She did not want to be the bearer of even more bad news, after Cappy's death only a few days before.

The x-rays showed a tumor in Lady's right hip. "It's just degrees of badness," the vet said. She meant that it could be osteosarcoma, which is cancer of the bone and is pretty much always fatal in dogs. Or it could be chondrosarcoma, which is cancer of the cartilage, and more treatable. But Lady isn't a large breed dog, which are the type that most commonly get osteosarcoma, so that made it more likely to be chondrosarcoma. But chondorsarcoma is most common in either the ribcage or the nose (both places where there is a lot of cartilage) and not real common in the pelvis, so that made it more likely to be osteosarcoma. But, but, but....

"What will happen? Will they amputate the leg?" I asked. We just did not know, from the x-ray, what we were dealing with. The doctor at that clinic who does surgeries happened to be there on that particular day, happened to be finishing up with one surgery and could do a biopsy on Lady right away before moving on to other appointments in the afternoon.

I was still feeling guilty that I hadn't acted decisively enough with Cappuccino, so I just went full steam ahead with Lady, and authorized the surgery for the biopsy that day. After a looong weekend waiting for results, in which I had pretty much convinced myself that she had osteosarcoma and was not long for this world, the results came in on a Monday, and she has the more treatable chondrosarcoma.

Similarly, I took the first available appointment with a radiologist to get a CT-scans. And I took the first available appointment with the specialist surgeon who performed the operation on March 11 to remove the tumor. (Even though I have no expertise in reading x-rays, I was not too far off in my guess that the leg would have to be amputated. The cancer was not in her leg at all, and she had a perfectly fine femur and all other bones in her leg were healthy. But the cancer was in her acetabulum, the pelvic bone, and once the tumor was removed, there was not enough bone left to support the leg.) I brought her home from the veterinary hospital yesterday, and now she is resting comfortably here at home, and on a cocktail of three different pain meds.

I've had numerous phone conversations and vet visits in the past few weeks. In one of these, the family vet said to me, "Lightning strikes twice. You've had two animals with two very unusual tumors in the space of two weeks."

Both of my daughters, independently of each other, have asked me privately what would happen to the amputated leg. I don't know if they thought we were going to bring it home and hang it over the mantel like a trophy, or what.... The answer is that it was sent to the veterinary college at Washington State University for testing. The pathology report will show whether the surgery successfully removed all of the chondrosarcoma. If not, Lady will have to have chemotherapy. I have confidence in the surgeon.

February 09, 2009

Because You Can't Do Yarn 24/7

People who know me, live and in person and not just from my online presence, know that I've taken up yoga in the last three or so years. My daughters like to go, too. We go to a couple of viniyoga studios: one, Heartbeat Yoga, is in Kent not far from where I live, and the other, Whole Life Yoga, is in the Greenwood neighborhood of Seattle and not far from Jennie's apartment.

Viniyoga is a gentle form of yoga that allows poses to be adapted for an individual's unique needs. (This is not to say that we don't do difficult poses, like Half Moon pose, or challenging sequences like Sun Salutations -- we do! But viniyoga isn't about a goal of achieving XYZ position perfectly; rather, it is about getting the optimum benefit from the pose while still honoring how far your own ligaments will take you.)

Jennie and I have become mildly obsessed enough with our yoga practice that we have embarked upon the 200-hour yoga teacher training program offered at Whole Life Yoga. Our training just started this month; we'll graduate in November. Like a Where's Waldo? drawing, see if you can spot us in this picture:

In a typical class at either studio, you probably would not spend any time doing any of the other layers of yoga: meditation or breathwork. In our teacher training, we will explore these more fully. For someone who's naturally reflective, like I am (I majored in Philosophy, after all), these layers have huge appeal.

Because woman cannot live by yarn alone . . . .