spinningwheel.net

Found this via Vicki Steifel on Twitter. Stitch library lovers, take note.

http://thewalkertreasury.wordpress.com/

No, seriously. Leave me alone. I’m not listening to you. There is nothing you can say to make me love you. You are a creep. If you come to my house I will call the police and tell the whole sordid story, and your precious anonymity will be lost.

Go away. Game over.

Sincerely,

Terri Shea

Hi, all!  Would you believe me if I told you I’ve been busy knitting?  It’s true!  No reall!  Here’s proof:

The Red Sweater.  Ah, RS, how I love thee!  And the Blue Stocking.  I’m a couple inches from the heel.  Not the best shot, but the batteries died.

Last weekend took me to Knitochet in Walla Walla.  Lovely time, lovely people!  Thanks again, Michelle.  I look forward to coming back soon.

Lecture and classes were held at the Kirkman House Museum.  Hot but pleasant!

And then the sign welcoming me home, just off the freeway.  God, I love Seattle.

I’m giving an interview to Alison at L is for Latte today.  You’ll have to watch her blog to see when she posts it.

is as done as she’s going to get this year.  1.0 release, ok? Even poor Prudence is so overwrought that she’s gotten into the dandelion wine again. There, there, dear. It will be all right.

http://www.spinningwheel.net/?page_id=134

Auction dress slideshow. 

Hi Everyone! 

I’m looking for help knitting samples for Norwegian Knitting Design. 

I need people who can knit a mitten, stocking, or hat, with limited involvement.  All I have is the chart and an old photo, and I need you to reproduce what you see.  I will not be writing detailed patterns, since they won’t be in the book.  You need to know how to make a mitten or stocking or hat, and be able to hack together a sample suitable for photography.   I can offer advice, but you won’t get a pattern.  Yes, you can do this.

Yarn will be provided, and payment will be in the form of several books - one to keep, a few to sell. :)

Takers, anyone?

Started like this

and ended like this.

School auction.  It’s kind of a big deal.  I got dressed up.  Details later.  :)

When we signed Heather up for Catholic school, it was for the school.  I didn’t expect the church to become a part of my life, but it did.

On these mornings when my anxiety overwhelms me again, it is such … well, a blessing, really… to be able to walk her to the classroom and then slip inside the church for a moment of peace for myself.

I started going to morning mass when Traci died, two years ago next month.  It was the only place I could let go and cry.  Brian was no comfort, Heather was too small to take such a load.  But I could sit in the back, in the dark, and find respite in god.  

This morning another mom I know slipped in and sat next to me.  I knew in an instant what was wrong; the much anticipated adoption from China was put off for yet another year.  When the tears started to flow I gave her a handkerchief, put my arms around her, and just held on and let her cry.

Only moments before I heard news from another mom friend - a friend of hers had died on Wednesday, leaving behind a wife and eleven-year old child.  And again, all I could do was hold her, stroke her hair, kiss her cheek, and be a stable presence for her to lean on.

I’m a hugger.  I like to hug.  I like to touch people, and be touched, and feel not just in my head or heart, but in my body, that someone is there.  Living all alone every other week is torture.  I hug indiscriminately, everyone I know.  The moms and the dads, the children, the grandparents.  The neighbors.  The pets.  Pass me the baby so I can get a good squeeze.

Everyone knows that humans need affection to survive.  We’re social animals.  Babies die if they’re not held.  Hugging is good.  Hugging is necessary.

Something has been nagging at me since my trip to Salt Lake City. 

I’ve been online-friends with Miriam Felton for several years, but it was the first chance for us to meet in person.  We decided to meet for lunch and a tour of downtown on Friday, and I have to tell you, we hit it off like we’d been friends all our lives.  She is a wonderful person, so talented and smart and loving.  After lunch we were walking around Temple Square, and without even thinking about it, I slipped my arm into hers so we could be closer to talk.

In a split second, every head on the plaza turned to stare at us.

And when I felt her tense up, it occurred to me that perhaps in Salt Lake City, two women cannot walk down the street together with linked arms. 

And to me?  That’s just weird.  Not only weird.  Wrong.

What would make people so uncomfortable about linked arms?  Was this some unspoken symbol that maybe, perhaps, these two women, because they touched each other in public, that maybe we were having sex with each other?

Is affection automatically indicative of sex?  Have we become so attuned to vice that we no longer recognize virtue?

I love our school.  I love the fact that we can be affectionate, that we can give and receive love - freely, openly, indiscriminately.  I wouldn’t change it for the world.  I am grateful for the love and affection I have received when I was at the end of my rope, and the opportunity to share it when it’s my turn to be the strong one.  And the next time someone needs a shoulder to cry on, I’ll consider it a privilege to get drenched.

Faith.  Hope.  Love.  The greatest of these is Love.

I was talking with a school mom/dev yesterday, and she told me about this show.  I think I need to see it…

Roses & Pomegranates is still in progress; I’m busy with several projects.  Look for a Big Announcement later this week!