PippiKneeSocks.com

I was knee deep in the middle of updating the shop when Scout gave me a jingle to tell me that the Knitty surprise was up!

Looky looky!

My Mitts!

Remember these buttons?

Yeppers!

The shop has been updated!

I’ve added:

Bunches of new colorways of handpainted yarn!
Fingering and sport weights for your sockies.
AND!!!
New Worsted weights!!!
*For a limited time I will be taking orders for Custom Sweater Yarn.
The base of the worsted weight is the ultra lush Louet Gems, so, it is a bit spendy, but worth every cent.

Also today I’ve added some great hand painted spinning fibers
Including some Hot Merino/tencel!!

And I gave the 2 ply page a bit of attention, too.
With one 2 ply added.

You can view everything in the shop using this link or you can see everything that is new

Wow, alla that has taken me all day! Now I need to run and pick up Gurly Gurl from skool.

XO!

What is worse than knitting 3 feet of I-cord?
Knitting 4 or 5 feet of it, yes…

It seems 5 can’t hold onto things. (Last week, she lost her snow pants at skool, HUGE bummer! I’m really hoping they turn up soon.) So, knitting all that I-cord seems like a time saver compared to knitting a whole new set of mitts.
The self striping yarn (in some of my favorite colors) came from my Dye-O-Rama swap partner, Monica. (& embroidery done with the same yarn….)
Knit on US 1s & 3s
I plan to line them with some fleece, as soon as I can convince Matt to get my 400lb sewing machine out of storage.
I’ve been patiently waiting for some things in the mail.
Yesterday when I went to the box, I pulled out a heavy parcel. In the short time it took me to see it in the box and pull it out, I had convinced myself that it contained a pipe bomb (heavy, thick, hard, odd shape… paranoid much?) Living on the edge like I do, I decided to pull it out anyhow… Then I recognized the return address to be Anna’s. (And I was pretty dern sure she wouldn’t send a pipe bomb to me.) Therefore, safe to tear into.
Much to my glee and amusement, it was packed, and I do mean packed (!) with post-it notes, memo pads & small notebooks of all shapes and sizes.
This is what 4 pounds of notepads look like (less what the kids made off with.)

Thank you Anna!
I’m so shocked when people actually read this here blog. Let alone pay attention to what I ramble about.
So, on that note, anyone have one of these sitting ’round? (I’ll pay postage!)

Now that you are asleep, or have clicked away it’s time for a bit of political spew.
As many a US citizen is aware, tonight is the megalomaniac’s State of the Union Address. I won’t be watching. (Or perhaps I will, if I want my BP to shoot thru the roof.) Watching the resident megalomaniac is like rubbernecking a train wreck. But, I wanted to make a declaration. For the past few years (since 2000) I have referred to that person (?) as the resident (I don’t quite get the whole respect the office thing….) For seven years that person (?) has tried my patience and compassion. It is insurmountably difficult for me to have compassion for him. Anyway, from this day forward I will no longer be referring to that war monger as the resident, he will be referred to as the squatter.
ITMFA, m’kay? Ahh, I feel better that is off my chest. (Thank Maude that this bill got shit canned.)

That’s all I got.
Oh, wait, I lied! I can see my laundry room floor!! (Aren’t you all proud?)
And aside from trying my best to keep up with housework these days, I’m going to do my best to get my yarn wound for an update this week. It has been at the top of my list for a few days now, right underneath take a shower and take my vitamins. (Guess which one I’ve also been neglecting?)

♥

For those of you wanting to know, I finally took down our tree, about 15 minutes ago.
I was fancying the idea of leaving it up until Valentine’s day. But, it occurred to me, the time to take one of those things down is when there are more needles on the floor than the tree. (Yep, I think I vacc-ed about 5 pounds of those suckahs up.)
So, for those of you who placed bets, now is the time to pony up. It didn’t turn to compost in the living room or start a fire, so I win.
I have no photos today, as there has been more frogging than knitting going on (which, seems to defy logic.. Perhaps, there has been more frogging than progress… yes, that is more like it.) But, I thought I would give the blog a bit of love, since it has been a while. (And, it seems when I take large breaks from the blog, I write these epic entries of mental vomit. 2007 is the year of less vomit, so, there ya go.)

Today’s been a day.
Time to take some tincture, turn the kettle on and put a cool wash cloth on my head.

♥

For once, I would love for our usual morning chaos, not to happen. I dream of quiet mornings, where everything runs smoothly, no one gets hurt, everyone is healthy, & no one yells.
A snippet of this morning’s yelling:
3: It’s a pineapple
5: No!! It’s a house!
3: It’s a pineapple
5: No!! It’s a house!
3: It’s a pineapple
5: No!! It’s a house!
(Wash, Rinse, Repeat until mom interjects)
34: It is a pineapple AND a house!
3&5 (in rebellious unison) NOOOOOOOO!

They do good work, turning it on me. (never fails.)

I have no doubt that if I was not a slob better at housekeeping, and was more organized, things would be smoother, because as much as I need to be by the seat of my pants, I loathe it too.
This is what happens when I run out of post-it notes.

(Gasp! I lost my pen, too!)

And, speaking of my less than stellar housekeeping.

Our tree, still standing (even tho 3 keeps trying to change that.) Lookit all of those needles!
I have started to refuse to vac them up. It is principle. It’s going to keep dropping those little effers. Why waste good vacuum effort? (You will be happy to know Sue, that all Polly Pocket shoes have been swallowed up by the sucker machine, in a stealth move, per your “advice”. Although, I did feel some guilt. I suspect that the makers of Polly Pockets anticipate such a scenario, and earn their living from that: Using MotherGuilt against us, inspiring us to buy yet more of those little buggers, only to be vacuumed up, thus inspiring more MotherGuilt. Vicious cycle.) I digress, that tree should come down already….

I fear, I’ll never get the hang of our mornings. It has been four months since 5 has started started skool & I’m still not running the show in any type of smooth & effective manner. In fact, I suspect 5 has developed some deep resentment with my apparent shortcomings.
Again with morning snippet:
5: Not that shirt, I want the kitty shirt
34: No, you just wore the kitty shirt.
5: grumbles in protest.
34: Thank you, now get your socks on…
5: NOOOOO! Not those socks!
34: Why not?
5: They AREN’T glitter sparkle socks!!
34: Sorry, just put them on please, we are going to be late.
5: MOM! YOU ARE RUINING MY LIFE
34: Well, sweets, it was bound to happen sooner or later, get used to it.

(note: She is 5, not 15. & this happens to be the second time I have been told I was “ruing her life.” The first time was over some pigtails that weren’t up to her exacting standards. Sheesh.)

I suspect I’ll miss these times in 16 or so years. Until then, I suppose I will have to rework my schedule & start to get up at 4:30, just so I can have some quiet time with my coffee and my sticks & string.
Speaking of my sticks & string, you surely didn’t just come here for the parenting rant, no?
Formerly known as Hand Things
Now Mitts in Progress

Much better.

& My yarn from the other day

Has turned into a scarf,

I was going for “dramatic” but I wound up with “Muppet”.
It told me the other day that it should have been a wrap, not a scarf. I told it to go screw, the only thing worse than frogging plain mohair yarn, is frogging mohair locks. yup. Perhaps, I’ll be sorry down the road… Can’t win ‘em all.

And on that note, I am being summonsed by 3, to go build a snowperson. (Yes! Colorado & New Mexico have decided to stop hogging all of Vermont’s snow.) So, I best get out there before I’m accused of ruining his life, too.

♥

Happy New Year!

It’s our James Bond year! (Was I the only fool suckered into going to see A view to a kill because Duran Duran sang the theme song???)

Yes, I know, I’m a few days late… But trust me, you would thank me for not posting a few days ago! After all, this is supposedly some kind of knitting, spinning blog, right; not some type of therapy.
Good thing I’m not superstitious about ‘New Years’, I spent the first few hours in tears, and New Year’s day covered in vomit. Sounds like it was a good high school party, no? Well, It isn’t what you think. Plus, I was never one of those types to get drunk and cry, I left that one up to Rob. He was the drama queen back then. The vomit came from my young, ah! the glamorous life I lead. The tears, well, apparently, I slid down the dark PMS abyss. Add the power of hormones to the magical change that is supposed to happen with the turn of the new year, multiply that by the expectations I have for myself, viola, tears.
If I was 20 years younger I would have been held up in a dark room listening to Cure records smoking cigarettes and writing bad poetry and doing stipple… (And you know, with having two sick kids to contend with, this seemed like a really great option.)
Instead, I threw myself at the mercy of my spinning wheels.

I’m not one for resolutions at the beginning of the fictitious calender change; but I do have a bad habit of looking backwards over the year and finding all of my faults. The thing that bothered me the most was I felt like I wasted the gifts that were bestowed on me in 05. It was a difficult year, but the amount of personal growth that was granted to me by the universe was astounding. I feel like I’ve almost betrayed my compassionate path. I feel like what I do is totally trivial given the state of the world. In my heart, I hope that isn’t true. And I know I can take steps to correct that, if it is the case.
Out of all that came my Fiber Friday.

It is called ” 58,408 ”
185 yards
10 ounces
apx 11 wpi
2 ply,
One ply of black wool top & mohair locks with an itty bitty ply of wool, nylon and silk sari.
The topic this week was Grief.
58,408 is the number of Iraqi civilians killed since the resident and his cronies decided to stomp up in there. For what? Money and oil? When the greed of a few men can cause that much human suffering, and not be held accountable for such shameful acts; we truly live in an unjust world. I wonder how they can sleep at night? (Perhaps large quantities of sleeping pills washed down with alcohol? )

I know, you must be thinking “……and this ISN’T depressed?”
Believe me when I say you would not like to have read anything I would have posted a few days ago, before my new favorite cure for hormonal induced insanity…
For those of you who want in on the cure, take 3 to 4 pints of neopolitan dynamite (I would highly recommend 4, just to be on the safe side.) Put this on repeat, (Thank you Brenda & Muggle!) and do something you find joy in. Stir well and often.
I think that will be a new mantra for this James Bond year; Find the joy.

♥