The lazy Tour

The Tour de Fleece* has come around again, and I’m sort of participating, in a half-assed kind of way. There’s a lot going on Chez Cusser, including eleventy dozen shelves to finish and put up, a pile of designs to get out for the fall/winter season, and an ongoing search for ways to use the ridiculous amounts of fruit & veg I keep bringing home from the farmers market. (It’s as though I forget there are only two of us, and himself is not a huge consumer of produce. No matter how good and healthy it is, I cannot eat every…

How can we learn if we don’t sometimes fail?

I’ve run into a problem. My first handspun socks, the product of the Great Shetland Experiment, are experiencing severe structural failure. Barely past their first birthday, these beloved objects are wearing out, and quickly. I darn, I patch, I try to save, but as soon as I do, new holes appear. The same thing is happening with another, newer pair, too. Since I made these socks from the yarn up, I’ve only myself to blame, so I’d better figure out what went wrong.

A problem, a solution, a better hat

Remember my one piece of Christmas knitting? Well, it’s done. It’s done, it’s off, and thanks to my ability to procrastinate and the wonder of USPS Priority international mail, I didn’t even have to go to the post office. I know people like to complain about the postal service here, but a public service that will come to my door to pick up outgoing packages is a thing of joy and a wonder to behold. A few extra bucks to avoid the aeon in Hell’s waiting room that is a post office at Christmas is money well spent, in my…

It’s all about the process

As you might have gathered from my last post, I’ve started processing fleece. I’d heard spinners wax poetic about the wonder of spinning wool you’d processed yourself: So lofty! So easy to spin! It’s like eating prime steak after a steady diet of hamburger! (I think that last one was Judith MacKenzie.) My curiosity was piqued. I like steak; I like getting heavily into the minutia of making things; how could I not like this?