Going mayhaps to be an Eclair

Today I finally took action to ensure thatI am not wandering around Egypt nekked I can travel in appropriate clothing whilst being baking hot. Its 40 Celsius, is it just me or is that a tad antisocial? I know the planet does not revolve around being sociable to humans, and nor should it ever. But bloody hell that is scary.
We had difficulty in 26C heat and were pleading for someone to follow us around with a fan to prevent us from dying. I have difficulty coping in the south of France. Which I'm sure most (all sane) people will admit is not Africa nor anywhere near African high temperatures. So I am willing to place money one my one action of the hot afternoon will be to crawl into the shade with something cool. And maybe some knitting (I still haven't decided what to make. Eeeep).

From personal experience what Dara said about the melting point of an Irish person applies to people North of the border as well as south. And I am one of those things that melts, goes gooey and at the same time, crispy bright red on the outside.

However the point is, I needed clothes that did not make me look (as my mum would describe it)like a "sack of spuds tied in the middle" without spending a fortune. What is wrong with designers? It seems to me that Bigger=no waist is in their opinion a law of physics. Which may be shocking to some people when they find out, this isn't true. Anyway, off we went (CGBF to stuff me back inside a likely shop to keep me from not trying on anything). Town was heaving with people, it was a horror. Shop after shop it was like a swarm of flies all over things. I got scared.

We found somewhere quieter and there was a small child screaming in the changing room. Screaming non stop. Her dad was making her try on stuff. I could sympathise. I was 2 minutes from that happening to me. Actually the chances are I'd been that screaming child when I was wee, noisy (actually I'm still noisy) and hated the whole process of buying clothes almost as much as I do now (that dislike has been cultivated).

The first thing I tried made me look like a pudding. For some reason this led into me asking CGBF "If I was a pudding what sort would I be?".

Now he decided I'd be an Eclair.
Now what made him decide that I looked like a long, randomly lumpy sausage-like splodge of pastry coated in sticky stuff and filled with cream that squirts out when poked I do not know. Its hardly complementary is it? Apparently stuff does come out when I'm poked, its almost entirely noise though. Which he insisted on testing at random points during the day (I am quite screamy I will admit).

But an Eclair? Not something light luxurious, delicate and a rare delicacy (moi? high opinions? Never). No, a squidgy bun that is commonly available (that latter is most certainty not ever going to be true). Sob.

Anyway (the prologue) we got there eventually and he realises why I am a horror to shop with. I'll go in disparage everything, want to leave, get hauled back (repeat five times) until I am eventually stuffed into a changing room with a handful of stuff (I don't like but if I try it then I know I'll dislike it and its horrible) and reject it all. Bar one if things are going well. Repeat 3x and I have 3 trousers (one all you can leave bum prints on things, whats wrong with colourfast garments?) and 4 tops.

And rest. Then notice something and start some serious wondering.

We were in asda wandering around the clothing bit (between the DVD's and food). Oooh on the subject of DVD's we got I am Legend, Mongol and a few others I can't remember the name of including a scary sounding one. Anyway, (the Prologue) we nearly wandered into to the Granny pants (seriously they were that big, even the small ones). They were just lurking and yet looming all at once. Yes, it is possible to lurk and loom. They hid in a Granny Weatherwax fading into the background with just as much malice in a clueless manner (they are pants) and them looming out of sheer elephantine enormity, weighted down with lacy frilly fancy bits. Don't get me wrong, I'm not adverse to fancy pants just like the rest of you (assumption here but I'd like to think most of us here have style). But when it comes to HUGE Granny pants the size of a small child or almost, my Torso? I was thinking to myself that having heard people describe clothes as being fit to walk. Not mine I hassen to add, I'm compulsive about having clean and fresh frilly things and socks. Anyway (the prologue) should this Giant Pair of lacy Pants come alive, it could easily eat a child and savage small right up to medium sized dogs, maybe an adult if it moved fast enough, if it could move. Maybe the lace could take on a vast peristaltic movement that would allow it to undulate it around. That'd give us a clue how to stop it, pants have very little lace on the back.... But when you consider it Giant Savage killer pants aren't normal so that may not work because savage killer pants aren't normal so nothing can be construed as being capable of stopping them. Maybe I need more sleep. I am so talking bollocks but anyway. That at least is hardly abnormal.

CGBF just wandered in and said 'yes, yes you are'. Awwwwwagh

Maybe its the withdrawal symptoms from lack of spinning. Its making me INSANEEEEEEEEE Araghhhhh I want to spin but instead I'm degenerating into a mentally desperate person.
I can hang on until I've finished the final bobbin and plied them all up, I can, yes I can I HAVE TOOOOO.

Anyway (the Prologue)Why why why would someone try to make a 'sexy' pair of granny pants, especially those that are big enough to fit a pair of grannies in? Do 'sexy' and 'Granny pants' not mutually destroy each other like a pink frilly antimatter and matter reaction? Minus Gamma rays or an end times that could be taken seriously.

Slogans on pants, these really confuse me, the one that has me bitching has 'I love shopping' along the elastic. Why would ANYONE want the world to know 'I love shopping'. There is no way I would be happy wandering around with that embossed on my bum bits. Especially when it is a sickly egg yolky yellow and has hot dogs, burgers and other random pictures on it. How tasteless can you get, well as tasteless as nasty yellow pants but that brought it beyond the tastelessness that is that, by each tiny increment of decoration. We found some lumberjack shirts and CGBF admired, yes I did ask was he ok? And did his dad have any secrets I should know about and more importantly, did his mum know?

Some of the stuff there really smelled fusty* so we didn't stay long besides staring bemused at the pants. I mean really, who would want Betty bo on their knickers, or Tas Mania. Was glass gemstone studding one pair too. In the end we started wandering around after one of those woman who smell like they have marinated themselves in perfume as well as washed their clothes in it. Managed to pace myself so that I was in her wake, riding the bow wave. That tiny habitable patch between the awful fusty clothes smell and being overpowered by the perfume. Like a planetary system really that was. I was orbiting the over fragranced woman.

*Great Aberdonian word which I have really taken to, means something like musty and mouldy. As in chocolate cake, fusty cake, fusty cake, chocolate cake and more fusty cake (from an old manager). Another Aberdonian one is Spirtle. Which is not a porno pokemon as it sounds. Its a gadget for beating porridge or mashed potatoes up. Truthfully it looks like someone has taken a stave off a chair back. Who knows...I need to get out, CGBF has declared this. I have no bobbins and I need to tidy *sob*

We have now completed packing (I did the socks and knickers) and tidied the kitchen as well as having a dose of hysterics at the spider skin on my shoes.

Well me for now, I've slightly degenerated into a exhaustion rant but there you go. These things do sometimes happen. I need some serious canoodling to sleep before the holiday.
Will report back in just over a week :).

Spinning wheel, spinning wants.

I really want a new spinning wheel and I cannot afford that kind of money at the minute. Sadly I'm on my lonesome, well I say lonesome but CGBF is in the next room. However he has a friend over for dinner (which has very handily helped me to clear the fridge out pre holiday) so I'm in self imposed isolation in the bedroom.

Am I the only one (I am so wandering away from the original point here) who believes that the friend and partner barrier shouldn't be breached? They have been friends for years, long before we met. They have all those shared piss ups and beery nights out mixed with perving on the local wildlife ahem experiences, the in jokes and having another person, especially someone who is a bit shy like me (its bad, trust me) there wouldn't be comfortable. For me or for them. So into (utterly self imposed and enforced) exile I do go.

Which is why I am searching for spinning wheels and feeling a bit depressed. I am really protective over my stuff, I like to ensure it is well maintained. And since I swapped the flyer unit including the Mother Of All (the bit of kit that holds the whirly bits (flyer) that the wool goes into) that the wheel came with for another one then swapped back one of the Maidens (two upright pieces of wood that holds the flyer) has started to rattle. I should elaborate on that one. The Flyer unit is all the fancy rather compact and complex bit that sits above, to one side or in front of the wheel. String (the "drive band") which goes around the wheel to the flyer (a smaller wheel) and causes it to turn (the ratio). Causing the wool to twist creating yarn. By changing the size of the flyer you change the number of times it revolves per one turn of the big wheel. The faster it turns, the more twist and the thinner the yarn that can be spun. Thinner yarn needs more twists per inch to hold it than thicker yarn.

I exchanged my regular flyer kit (Mother of All) to a jumbo one designed for chunky yarn. Because it is so large it is perfect for plying because you can fit two regular bobbins worth of yarn onto it with ease. Allowing you to create a longer length of uninterrupted yarn. But since one of the two legs as it were powers (Maidens) has been loose. I think I'd need to fill it with filler and have to re drill the flyer in. But since its wood I can't tell how well this would work. So it'll have to be a repair job. Sigh.

Here is a labelled picture of my regular bobbin (this holds the yarn) beside a jumbo bobbin and the jumbo flyer (which is holding another jumbo bobbin). Which shows the size difference between the two. I've also included a 15 inch/38cm "Niddy Noddy" which is used to make skeins to act as a scale comparison. Its a pity I don't have a lace flyer unit as of yet to use as a smaller comparison.

I've just realised that the purple isn't standing out as much as I'd like. The Wool/yarn goes in here also looks like I've written Wod/yarn. Brilliant. Well hey, its better than the previous colour.

But with all the problems and worries about damaging the wheel I'm at the point of wanting a second wheel to ply with. Actually that's a point, I really should try spinning chunky yarn. Once I get a new wheel. Maybe that'll be a festive folly gift for myself.

I shall have to ponder what one to get in the mean time. I would like one with as many ratios as possible. I'm not even sure if I want to stick to an Ashford. I love their nice clean lines, lack of over fussiness, but I've never tried anything else and I must admit to being a bit curious... And I've heard of an Orkney make (Haldane) as well as one in Wales or England (Timbertops, who also do repair work). It'd be nice to support a "local" maker. Or as local as being in the same country as that counts.

Oooh, I've found a fool proof way of getting CGBF to seriously look at what I'm knitting or weaving. I now take my top off and drape it across my boobs. Works every time ;).

Well its late and I'd better head off to bed. Clothes shopping tomorrow. Blagggh (still).

More holiday stuff.

Today I have sorted the travel insurance, got heckled about it, flounced around wearing the hat (for some reason that is note worthy to me, I'm not sure if anyone else would feel the same), worked on the Blur shawl mark 2, had a dose of hysterics (CGBF used a phrase WORD FOR WORD my dad used on me, the one about doing things in good time, instead of leaving it to the last minute) and ate a vast quantity of cereal.

Since going on holiday I have knitted a vast quantity, and ate a vast quantity of cereal. It is like a veritable elephants graveyard of boxes stashed out of sight of his chair. I kind (I typed that as knid, I wonder if they are vicious/vermiscious or not) of realised he'd spotted them when I heard a (manly) scream (he maintains it was a (manly) exclamation, not a scream) from the living room. Then he wandered through and did the hug thing, where he cuddles me and asked did I eat all that cereal this week. "You did as well, I know you did" (I did too). Then wandered off with a sigh after patting my shoulder. Bless.

Weaving, I wove something yesterday and am rather amazed by just how much the weaving is narrowed by when you decrease from 1 thread every second dent to every dent. I expected a difference, but not such a large one. Guess I was clueless... (about it.)
I made a slight mistake in the weaving so 2 strands next to each other when woven 1,3 up then 2,4 up are sitting side by side. Otherwise everything seems fine. I got about 2 foot done so I'm pleased about that.

I have also realised that CGBF (who was humouring me by trying it on) looks better in the hijab than I do. Its the longer face. Sob.

I finally showed the "Sex Wax" picture to CGBF. He is insisting on investigating so we are off to Bruce Millers (a music shop).

Well that's me for today, we need to go clothes shopping (Blagh). And I still haven't decided what knitting to bring with me :(.

Holiday preparations.

I'm on Holiday!!

Woohoooooo :)

This is the first time all year I have been on a proper holiday (two days off to go and visit the dentist don't count). So what have I been doing with myself. Knitting (obvious), stash diving in the pretence of bagging it (I just want to squish Merino, which I could happily do for the next few hours but I need to blog). I am also preparing to go on holiday.

CGBF has booked us on a weeks cruise up the Nile! We leave Monday coming and it hasn't quite sunk in yet.

The effort to get holiday supplies is ongoing and so far has proved amusing. Since I only need to be in a place that is sunny to burn, not even in the sun, I burn in the shade (I seriously believe the sun goes Ah ha, there she is and instantly turns up the frazzle) I've got a hat (which I'm convinced looks like this....





but brown. I even said as much in the shop (I couldn't remember the name of the cow and I thought the flower was on the hat. Not a fan of the magic roundabout).



I'm not a hat wearing person normally, them being associated with spectacularly itchy flowery straw and spike based specimen provided by mum an encounter (dun dun dunnnn) with a rather strict church. First the flowers seemed the ultimate bad point, but once I couldn't see the flowers (the hat being on my head) the itch took over as being major massive problem. Until I realised the flowers were sending the spikes back in into my head and I just started to loathe it in its entirety.



Now normally this would be enough to make me forgo the hat as a garment but for another incident which at least gives me some acceptance towards them being useful.

High summer holiday (what possessed my parent?) in France and it was tremendously hot. Miserably so and me being a teenager and for some obscure reason having learned from experience as well as not being particularly interested in playing with sandcastles. Or indeed seeing (not playing with at this stage) people wearing nothing I was not particularly inclined to loving it whilst I burned. I always burn. Nothing good comes of beaches for me. Now most people say swim, I love swimming, but that means, burning, sun tan lotion and passing out for 4 hours in the heat (place your bets on how will I manage in Egypt now). Mum loves the sun and being on the beach and the parents (mum) were being somewhat stubborn in their reluctance to let me skulk at the campsite in the shade. So hauled along I was and told to wear a hat and slather on this thick white goopy stuff that I was told was sun cream, but looked like Lard. Smelled like it too. I still managed to burn to toasty charcoalyness the tips of my shoulders, the top of and down the inside of my cleavage. Sore sore sore. But my face was fine and I didn't have a bright red streak up my scalp where my parting was. I keep having to move the parting an inch along every time I go out so although I have a stripy scalp, one area doesn't become too bad.



So enter yesterday's hat shop trawl. Hat shopping seems to amuse me tremendously despite the fact I am buying something that is essentially frivolous what will have limited use. We found some pith helmets, a security hat and a Korean (or was it Vietnamese?) ones. I think I am being haunted by my dad's hat preference, there must be some type of hat phenotype that the man could tell with some extra innate sense (genotype is what your genes say you can be, phenotype is actually what you look like). It was bizarre, and really scary, try this, or try this, these are lovely, whilst I am screaming "Nnnnnooooooooo" in my head. one even was the same colour as his hat. But I managed to escape to the floppy hat end and proceeded to flounce (I think, I certainly tried to flounce), head mosh (owww by the way, how do people not end up with a sore neck?) or bouncing around to get the brim to wibble about whilst giggling like a complete idiot. If I could be bothered I'd maintain that I was merely testing how far it shaded me. Whilst CGBF watched, perfectly dignified and amused. He really did make spotting the spacer really easy. I wasn't much better at home though.



Here's my hat and some other stuff we got (as well as the second of the Sirdar blur shawls that I included in there because I'm not sure what knitting to take, choices choices).



We also got imodium since my Auntie went on a Nile cruise and was sick the length of it and back. I think she's been sick the length of everywhere she goes on holiday (besides Moscow). We got a rather military looking 2 litre water bottle (the shop did army supplies too), some water purification tablets, odourless garlic pills, miraculous sun cream (I'm not allergic to it, the only one in the whole of Aberdeen that I'm not allergic to. A miracle that).

Ummmm I also got this thing which is like a Hijab. Thats it on the Blur shawl (to be posted asap) and beside the hat and my first weaving project.

Muslim woman (I usually end up spelling that muslin) wear these in Egypt and I've decided to wear one (under the hat, protect my nose), not only in respect for the local's beliefs but apparently you get a bit more peace from hawkers and respect from them. The account I read said that people were more welcoming, they could go into the less touristy bits and got charged less. It also kept the sand out of their hair and their hair out of their faces. I can't even manage the latter with my hair tied back so if this helps I'll be happy. All good as far as I'm concerned.

I've played hunt-the-passport and won, all I need to do is go clothes shopping. :(

We tried but I think the Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, what is that? oh, ok, yuck was wearing CGBF and since besides the eye incident the day was a good one we abandoned it.

I also successfully and totally accidentally poked myself in the eye with an insurance brochure when queuing for the money exchange. My eyes were streaming for about 20 minutes so I could barely see and it was agony. I was so sore and kept giving people accidental grumpy looks, growling at CGBF (who was rather amused at my grumpiness) and having to apologise. I got lots of sympathy and assurances that it wasn’t a good idea and I shouldn't repeat it. CGBF also laughed me once he’d determined that I was ok. I was worried I’d pierced my eye or it was streaming that badly, but somehow I think that aqueous humour is thicker than tears.

Here is a picture of the Sirdar blur shawl, I started a new on Monday in purple (that's it to the side). Abandon all gauge all who knitted here applies only to the first one so far. Thankfully.

There is my first weaving and the latest addition to my stash, more of the blur before it sells out.

This is a better picture of my first weaving. Its very...... square and ummm short for a scarf, but there wasn't much that can be done about that. Besides starting again that is.

I also saw this in the front window of a shop!

Right, I'm off to try and join a knitting blog ring.

Knitting on, and on, and on and on and on

You know when your are working on a project that is best described as never ending. Usually a bottom up shawl. Certainly in this case its ups and lows in the joy. its good its good, starting to remember the pattern and zoom. Then at the end of the row, it gone. Slogging it, slog, slog, some more slog (can you use the word slog like that? I suppose I should know, CGBF is an English degree with extra fancy stuffs. Don't remember what the non science Honours upgrade is called). Anyway (the prologue) knit knit knit, done loads, knit knit knit, must be almost there, been knitting for ages and then you hit the halfway mark. Halfway done, only halfway. You can just feel your sanity drain away as your eyes shrivel and dry up. Or that maybe the fact that I've ben staring at it or the tv all day. I love it, but when its the non pattern row Arrrggghhhhhhhhhhhh sob.

I feel rather stagnant today and I am having trouble with the blog. What do you write about and blaggh. Like everyone there are those little amusing things that happen in day to day life that you want to write about. But happens if someone at work reads about it? Everything is about appearances and to be honest its stressing me. A lot.

I was more than a bit of a pleb and in a fit of pride pointed out my Lindawings shawl to one of The Girls. Now The Girls (their formal title. Or description) are really nice, I like them. But still I am kicking myself, just agonising by what I did. Why did I do it? I'd gone up to get their opinion on a shawl colour for the Hap shawl. Told her about the other one and when the picture of my one came up I just didn't think. Oooh, that's my one. And now I'm almost no I'm actually dreading posting. She was busy at the time so I hope she didn't go onto it. What happens if she decided or decides to go back on. I feel awful.

So I'm going to think about the knitting/ yarn. I cut off the weaving (have I mentioned that? hmm). I found that the yarn, despite being part acrylic the outside frayed. I was weaving away and noticed that it was barely there. As worn as ummmm, a ummm, I can't think of anything that isn't rude. It was worn. Anyway, repaired one, ok, spotted another, it was the third that gave me the idea to stop and restart. But what did I do when I cut it off? I cut a heddle too. Superglue doesn't repair them may I just say. I've tied it to the back and when I rewarp it I'll do one per dent instead of every second one. I think the outer ones being forced out is what did the damage. I only hope it isn't to tight now and the fabric isn't going to be stiff. Can't have it being stiff and hard.


Ummm, the Lesley Blur shawl is finished. But it is tooooooo big. My tension is usually too tight so I over compensated and it was too loose and munched into a third ball of yarn. Ooops. Its for a short person. This is the same height as them. Which isn't going to work as a day to day wearing shawl, we'll lose then in the middle of it. Have to launch an expedition in the folds of the shawl to try and find her. But Anneylambie (who was second on the list for one of these) is taller and it my just work as a shawl-come-blanket. It is so cosy and it a tug of wills to not snuggle up to it myself.

My fingerless mittens are as far as I can go without the yarn I need. I've run out. Again. Same pattern and I've run out. Or used most of the yarn as warp lengths so its essentially out.

Harris Socks are coming alone. Not finished yet but they are my bussing socks so that's ok. I may get an aran pattern and use some of my Debbie bliss yarn to make him socks (because I think these maybe too small, lets hear it for denial and assorted flying manoeuvres to evade it. The. Sock. Shall. Work. I tell you).

Hat.
I'm ignoring it.

Ummmm. Think that's it besides the blue hand incident. This is one of those things I've been struggling to decide should I share. We were at an exhibition. A big one full of important people, very much best behaviour time. Chatting away to somewhere and I noticed a smear of ink. Wondered where did it come from and thought nothing much more. Few stalls on and there's another, larger smear. Think about it and no closer to figuring out where it came from. Few stalls on, same again. But this time from the balls of my fingers up is solid blue. I am having to chat and keep one palm downwards. And failing miserably. This is more than slight disconcerting.
It clicks, I picked up a pen and stuck it in my back pocket and its broken. has it dyed the trousers, does it show? What knickers am I wearing? Is my bum cheek blue? One of my work mates very kindly to a constant stream of "I'm tying my show lace, I'm tying my show lace" checked it out. no blue. Now to find a toilet. Frantic scrubbing to clear the hand which stubbornly remained faintly indigo to the end of the day. Now can I see enough of my bum cheek to see if its blue? Ha. Luckily it hadn't soaked through.

That's enough from me. I'm away to stare at the Lindawings shawl.

Weaving away. Finally.

Weaving away.

I took a day to recover and the next day (yesterday) I wove.
Tied up the front ones, tried to tie them on, used tightly tied yarn to try and strap them on (I can't believe I just typed that).
Then... I found the diagram of how to tie the warp on. I did the back ties wrong so the centre ones (10 strands each) were thicker, they bulged and took up the yarn quicker so the outer 2 were slack. And my written instructions were fallign out of lying funny and all the time I was intwined in the castle and through various inner parts of the loom with my head under the top board of the desk which was lunging at me in ita attempts to brain me. Arraggh. This instigated swearing, all of it. Especially when I discovered I finally got it reasonably even I was winding it the wrong way. Yea it came slack and I had to repeat it. Twice because the second time I didn't twig and got it wrong again. Finally. Wound the right way and....... only the outer 2 slack. Rummage rummage and....I found a stick that came in the kit. After a time spent back inside the loom (i'm so lucky its not carnivorous. Or if it is, that it wasn't hungry) I wedged it into the castle slot (its collapsable this castle. Incongrougous in its tradition namesake.) Hope that keeps it tight ((as a Tiger) how and in what way is a tiger tight I ask.)

Seek paper. reject paper, I couldn't find paper I was willing to use so I used one of the sticks that came in the kit. Twiddle the twiddly tighteny thing to pull the warp tight. Push 1 nd 4 up, (aka do as the pictures tell me to). Pull some down, wonder why its sitting int he middle. vaguely wonder that is, then forget it, accidentially ignore it, ignorance is good sometimes. Stick the stick into the center of the warp. Pull out the reed pins and stick them into the castle.

Beat (oh didn't that feel good. I even like the sound of doing that, beating it. :) ) Beat the warp, finally ha ha, get one back. Ha. Lace my shuttle (its a stick shuttle) and put it through the warp. Right, what do I do nect, twiddle the castle paddles, swap them around. (sounds like a strange boat doesn't it? Makes it sound like it should have water wings and a inflatable duck ring.).

Figure that since its fraying and getting fuzzy that swap paddles then beat is better than neutral, beat, put into gear, beat. Do 5. Rejoice
Swap colours. Ignore wobbly edges, the fact I've pulled the green outer edges too tight and the first 5 rows are a bit loose. I can attempt to tightne it later

I can weave. Wow.

Now all I need is a warping thing. And a lie down.

Weekend weaving

You know vast quantities of cussing doesn't make the Loom Loom Loom Loom loom (sung top the He-Man theme tune thanks to all who wish to join in with my musical tendancies) work. I'm not even sure I swore directly at the Loom. If I did I can be recorded ab being definitly not a Loom fonz should such a thing exist. It may, it may not. My exposure to the fonz is what was shown on family guy on the Church of Fonzy episode. Not exactly an expert in the making. OMG I just got attacked by a fruit fly! What do you say to that? You'd think flying up my nose'd be bad enough, but why won't it go away?

I have, after 6 monthsish of crying ahem looking at the Loom and running away screaming in panic ahem panicing I finally got part of a warp on. Part, the back half. to do so I needed the following things

1 Me (calm and compus mentus)
2 Loom (made up) and loom kit
3 CGBF (support of many kinds)
4 yarn for the warp (King Cole Mirage in Istanbul and Edmondton)
5 a cup of calming tea (Yogi brand and rather yummy)
6 a bed with a wire head and foot board (seriously)
7 grief for not doing it before
8 contract to finish it by the end of August as motivation (lets hear it for panic and leaving it until the last possible day)
9 a generous license to cuss and a vide variety of cuss words (at the yarn, my own insanity for getting involved in this sort of thing, bits of the loom, dropped bits of Loom kit and CGBF)
10 most of Sunday afternoon
11 Pizza, decidadly not spectular onion bhajis and naan breads for noms afterwards. i wasn't inclined towards cooking or doing anything afte. Degenerating into a tempermental "want food, thirsty, Raaaar stressed, come here you" does not incline you towards culinary creativeness.

Having this warped up makes me long to go and finish my cabelled gauntlets and then hung out a glove pattern to keep the actual digets warm.

So what did I get done? Well I and CGBF (manual said I'd need a friend so I opted for CGBF instead. Immediacy is good. He didn't complain about being hijacked). But things that are hijacked don't usually complain do they. I should say he was kidnapped but that not really accurate, but saying he's a ship or a plane isn't accurate either.

Either way I had a "friend", I had yarn and I had a loom. Quick meditation to settle down and off we go.

Check the necessary list. Problem I have no warping board. Or cup of tea actually but the warping board seems to be a more of an essential (although CGBF would have started arguing that point, he soon changed his mind. His back hurt worse than mine.). I could make one but I have none of the wood and...no drill and the slight concern that I wouldn't be able to make it more robust. no point the pegs bending. See its a board, with pegs in so you can measure out the warp (yarn that go the length of the loom or the warp) without it tangling (which it really wants to do, trust me). Slightly more pressing is the self imposed deadline. So off we go. No warping board, can't measure it out. What is it? Scarves, of them, one for me friend Linda and one for me. Weavers apparently believe in doing things in bulk. why do one when you can do many. Well I'm limiting it to 2. 3 maybe good but the other person I'd make one for has a really pale creamy complexion and I think the colours wouldn't help her. But if this works I have some more of the green and some nice pale blue and I'll be able to send her that. What with her about to start into an Australian summer I'm sure she'll love it. Anyway, the yarn still needs to me measured.... Has to be and I don't think I can do it the way it says. So how do I measure it.

Hmmmm. Right, the long ways bit is the warp. Check the book and 5 sheets (10 sides of notes!) Arraggh no idea what's happening. Regress to the pictures that came with the loom. I need a good length and I have nothing to measure the warp with. Well I could go from the back stick thing which is tied to the twiddly back twisty thing with the dial nob thing on the side, make sure its the right way. Then I can pull it through the stringy bits that have been coloured in through the teeth thing. Then I can flail around with the tape measures of screams, make up a good length, twist around a chair (pin in place with CGBF, must not entangle around him. Provide him with tea and a book, that'll distract him) then to the bed post and back. CGBF, cool and thoughtfully suggests using the head and foot board. That's about right. Double the length (up and down) and no stick. Decide again 2 colours is good. Centre purple because its the strongest green, purple and half wide green on the outside...
Do the purple first then the green take them off and then tie them to the stick at the back which still needs to be a certain way around. Ok. Twisty twisty, some yarn flinging later.... we have warp. Cut it off utilise CGBF's death grip to hold it whilst I do a chain thing. Crochet in huge.
Right, besides a sore back we are ready to go.

Intertwine arms up, under and through loom bits, realisation how strange a plant Honeysuckle is because it wants to do this (needs to actually but at the minute so do I. Mutual survivorship is at stake-I kid you not) lament the tragedy that is the fact that there isn't anywhere else to put it besides this table. Lament also about how there is no space to move the table. try moving table. Stop straining. It hasn't moved, decline trying again. Tie it to the back stick which we have untied. Unwisely maybe. Spend 20 minutes getting tangled in the loom retying it because untying it wasn't the best idea. Consider tying the warp to it under a desk, the castle and between the heddle holder thing bits. Ah ha, I've just found a "Warning do not enter sign". Wonder if I should (after witing CGBF on it) (note that says should, not could) print that out and glue it to something of CGBF's, or the bathroom door or maybe the kitchen (that'd soo impress the owner). Oooh, my trousers.... or undies.
Take 5 minutes to sit down and fully appreciate how close to further insanity I have come. Literally I did not feel the breeze because I was in that tiny tiny space between the action and the breeze appearing. And that's the only reason I did not spot it. Scary. Contemplate taking a drink of calming tea it takes a
Next, check thing, its 10 dents per inch (DPI), ummm pull thread through every second one.

Right, unchain it, untangle it, rechain with longer length on the other end. Bang head, swear, get tangled, swear some more, get warp tangled (B^**£ry ar$e) untangle, get yarn in paper cut, swear profusely. Miss fact CGBF is almost hyperventilating at the language. Yell at CGBF. Swear, swear loads at and about the tangle. You'd thing there was some invisible cat tangling it right before my eyes. Just how much can it tangle? breathing=oxygen, not fuel for obscenities. Breathe and try to be at peace,be at peace with the yarn. Not that yarn, hand spun. I shall ply it later, reward myself, sooth my soul (ha ha haahhahahahahahaha ha.)
Brief prayer to whatever angels are listening. Untangle it WOOOOOOHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


Pull through the ties thing in order of the little flappy things. Shriek as little flappy purple sticks. Eeeek. There is nothing more alarming as the chink clink clink clink of something falling from something that was previously stuck..... B^**£ry have I broken it. Breathe breathe. Get the courage up to look and.... Well at least I know where the missing screw was hidden. Well no evidence of beer indicates why it may have come out of hiding. Obviously it took 5 months for it do fully check in there. Anyway, look at odd looking screw (that only implicates hardware items... I'm not helping am I?) decide not to swap it for the matching one. Place it with the other odd looking screws in the stash. Pill out Heddle (is that right?) The things that have holes in that you thread your yarn through. Watch CGBF disappear around the corner to watch Star Trek DS9. Leaving all alone, he just abandoned me for the TV and.... Morrow wind. Sob. i'll do that with his tea some of these days.

I need a break. Abandon it and follow Him and knit on the Blur Shawl (getting there, I'm very happy with its progress) I couldn't stand the thought of swearing much more in such a short space of time. You'd think I was channelling a Docker for a bit.

Return.
Feel glad I've already determined the middle tooth space (dent means tooth and I'm not sure if I should call it a dent. I'm also not entirely sure why I'm not sure about this) and marked it (yes its been marked, condemned as it were. Pity I didn't mark it by putting the tie through the two teeth on either side, so I could leave it on and not have to cut it off when I take the thing out -I think its the reed, but obviously despite making 6 sheets of notes I can't remember) with a blue length of yarn (acrylic-so it stays put).
Do one colour -pull through the heddles from 4-1 (right to left or back to front). Then pull through the Reed (sticking with my earlier delusion). Do happy partially chair based dance for the loom and do second colour. WOOOOHOOOOO.
Miss two mistakes, one colour isn't through a heddle, one is through one twice. Crap
I officially have a warp thing on the go.

All goes quiet. This, I can actually do myself. Facilitation CGBF to escape back through. Finish pulling them all through..

Light headed, stressed, sore throat and covered in yarn. Which was bought out with my usual standards of "natural"-colours or fibre. Its fraying. B^**£ry B^**£ry Ar$e.
Abandon it.
I will return within 4 days.