How funny to find me here

Natalie commented that I don't have pictures (yet). It's true, and I need to not tell anyone, walk out the stinkin' door, and buy myself a digital camera that would do the simple job, probably even cheaply. Sorry, pal. It's hilarious to revisit this thought. In Summer 1998, when I was living in Scottsdale for an internship with Motorola, I accidentally got involved in needlework. (Listening to NPR instead of t.v., came across a cross-stitch kit on my walk home from work, and was on usenet in 1.7 seconds learning of different embroidery resources.) It was the first time in my life I walked away from text and into technicolor, and obviously there is no looking back. Here I am, reporting on my technicolor in monochrome.

Report: Yesterday a.m. I took out some solid Merino top, and started testing for a 4-ply "over balanced" Merino yarn, something like a Koigu. I'm trying to barely twist the singles (1/4 done), and we'll see where this goes. I'm spinning slowly, and love my wheel best (Lendrum folding) when operating it like this. (Love laceweight for the cadence and meditative feel.) Funny how the time goes: I dived through one pound of Wensleydale top in the past month or so (including some weekends off), and this little skein of a few yards and barely an oz will probably take me much longer. 5 oz. of Corriedale took me almost two years to hand card and spin up (it's 450 yards, sitting on my shelf, and I cannot believe I spent two Fucking years on it, why?). Why do we spend our time the way we do.

Time is running short for me nowadays. We're househunting today, and my Dad is supposed to be here in about four weeks. The school year is running out, and somehow I feel like a certain chapter of my adult life is, too.