Knit, Purl, Spin, Spin, Dye, Dye, Dye . . .

Ah, February. The time of year when my sister and I call each other and say "We must have that seasonal affective disorder thingy." The time of year my neighborhood looks the most like the subdivision Pete Seeger describes in his song "Little Boxes." Indeed, they are all made out of ticky-tacky. . . and I'm living in one . . .

(Pausing to slog through a ditch chock-a-block with existential angst.)

Back again! However: bleak as it is, February would be so much worse without knitting, spinning and dyeing. I've been forcing myself to work with bright colors lately. Knitting grey in February would be too funereal -- I'd feel like Morticia Adams. (Wasn't she always knitting her own shroud?)

Here's Exhibit A, a Forest Canopy Shawl I'm working on, using some lovely autumnal sock yarn from Fleece Artist:

I think I get to keep this one, as no one else I know wears orange.

This next one goes to an unnamed relative, however. It is the Shetland Triangle pattern from Wrap Style, in a cashmere/silk yarn from Sarah's Yarns. I hand dyed it a deep purply-pink:

And I dyed several batches of sock yarn . . . to varying degrees of success . . . which might also end up becoming shawls . . .

Gee willikers, Batman, it might be time for this snore-inducing yarn to get OVER-DYED!!

My favorite of this batch . . . forgot it in the crock pot and when I came running downstairs at 1 AM, it was GORGEOUS! (Note to self: Forget yarn in crock pot more often . . .)

Eh. It's okay. Pretty, blue . . . better than a sharp stick in the eye.

And I knit a second pair of toe-up 2-on-one circular socks bases on tutorials found here and here. The first is a web tutorial from Silver's Place, the second is a free download from Knitpicks. I combined the 2 and got actual wearable sockage! My sock knitting skills are remedial, so wearable sockage is never a sure thing . . .

The next sweater, knit from Ann Budd's Handy Book of Sweater Patterns, started life PUCE. It must have been a really good sale . . . who looks good in puce? What yarn designer says: "Our spring line will not be complete without at least a nod to the puce contingent"?

You think I'm joking . . . hold on . . . I'm digging through files with one hand, typing with the other . . . Voila! I challenge you to think of anyone who would look good in this:

GACK!

Guaranteed to wash out a bevy of homecoming queens with one sleeve tied behind its back.

I actually finished this pinky-mauve monstrosity about 2 years ago and wondered why I never wore it. This year I pulled it out of a drawer and a long dormant epiphany squawked in my ear: "IT'S THE HIDEOUS COLOR!"

Yes, yes it was. And, speaking of hideous color, it's time to do my grey, grey roots. Until the snow melts, I recommend you knit something bright, think aestival thoughts, and avoid ruminating on subdivisions, Pete Seeger, or existential angst. Beyond these frosty borders, there be dragons . . .

Darth Vader Vanquished

Ding dong, Darth* is dead – er – finished, I mean. Ellen from Spinners With Altitude did the math, and estimates there are almost a quarter of a million garter stitches in this behemoth:

Hanne Falkernberg Ballerina Project Notes:

First off, I used a size 2 needle, and should have used a 1. (My regular readers will notice a pattern here . . .) I thought I was getting close-enough-for-me gauge. I hoped. When the last stitch was bound off, I tossed on Miss Ballerina, and the fit seemed okay. Then I made an error in judgment: I decided to wet block the ballerina on Mitzy.

I had good reasons for doing so: Since Mitzy is a double of my figure; I could block my jacket precisely to my measurements. I thought I would experiment with string blocking the hem, to make sure the drape was right. On Mitzy, I could fuss with the hem length so that it was ‘just right.”

What I didn’t think about is: Water makes wool heavy. Garter stitch likes to stretch, and all that water weight made my ballerina grow to alarming proportions. I did not take pictures, but the sleeves gained at least 4 inches. A 6’2” Amazon warrior would look great in this jacket: I looked like little bunny foo-foo dressed in Mommy’s clothes.

At this point I retired to the davenport to gather my thoughts with a cool rag on my forehead and three fingers of Bushmills in my clenched fist. (We knit to relax, right?)

The next day I re-soaked the amazing expanding Ballerina, and attempted to flat block it back into shape with wires and about 200 blocking pins. Let it dry. (I’m in Colorado, things dry fast.) Unpinned, flung it on: ARGGH. Sleeves at least 2” too long STILL. I tried tacking them up, which looked like crap. And the fabric was way too flimsy – it looked as stretched and tired as last year’s underpants. I untacked the sleeves and considered my options. These included:

1.) Frogging the whole damn thing. Which brings to mind:

2.) Impaling myself on my Addi Turbo laceweights (messy).
3.) Seeing if I could find a VW bug that needed a cozy (unlikely).
4.) Throwing the beast in the washer and praying for mercy.

Well. Based on my experience working with raw Cotswold, wool from the harrier breeds of sheep doesn’t felt too easily. And while I know there’s a fair amount of difference, fiber-wise, between Cotswold and Shetland (what the Ballerina is made of), I was willing to risk it. I stuffed the acres of ballerina in a big mesh bag, and put it through a wash cycle. I did not hover, I was beyond hovering. I went and cleaned the kitchen and tried not to think about what wooly horror I might be birthing. I was feeling a little dramatic.

I pulled open the mesh bag, grabbed Darth, and saw that he had hardly changed at all! The fabric had tightened up some, but not enough. I returned him to the bag, and washed him again. After this wash, the size seemed about right. I flat blocked him, and that is where I am now. So, here’s how this project is currently breaking down:

What I like:
1. After felting, the fabric is much softer and fuzzier, and the drape is still good.

2. The felted fabric blocks the wind, and is warm enough for me on all but the coldest day.

3. Darth is, to my way of thinking, classic, stylish, lightweight and warm: a good coat for running errands, shopping, etc.

What I don’t like:
1. No pockets! I am still thinking about how to fix this one . . .

2. The back hem is not right. I need to reblock yet again, and currently can not face the task.

3. Sometimes (when it was cold and windy) the Ballerina just whipped around me. Brrr. I wanted a simple closure for those times. I tried using a nice shawl pin, but it kept falling off. I finally sewed on a couple of large snaps. So far, I’m liking this solution. Still considering adding a toggle closure, but need to look at what’s available out there. It would have to be just the right one.

About the photos: There's no arguing about it: Pictures of knitted wearables are more helpful if they show the item modeled by an actual human. I'm working on it -- I've had a month of bad hair days.

* Early on I named him Darth because he was big and black and kicking my pale Scottish patookey.

Who's laughing now, Darth? Hmm? BWAH-HA-HA!

Did you ever have one of those days . . .

. . . when the Christmas tree is still up and threatening to spontaneously combust, and the kitchen looks like a bomb went off (which it sort of did; more on that later), and you're still in your pajamas at noon-ish and every plant in the house looks like it hasn’t been watered in a month (which it hasn’t), and the public library is about ready to hunt you down with bloodhounds and an elephant gun to get back that monstrous stack of overdue books moldering by the back door . . .

. . . And you think: Wow! What a swell day to catch up on my blog! As a matter of fact, why not make a public proclamation? Officially, January 8 is now Catch up on Your Blog (C.U.O.Y.B.) Day. I’ve never been any good at snappy acronyms. First off:

New yarn! Old projects! Really old projects!

(some clickable)

Somehow or another, an aggressive band of houligan yarn has breached my security perimeter and infiltrated my house. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Offenders include:

Jojoland Melody Superwash, color #17
I saw this Swiss Cheese Scarf (free pattern by Winnie Shih) on Ravelry and had to have one immediately. However, this is NOT mindless knitting, as some Ravelry comments indicate. There is a 17 row pattern repeat which you do need to follow. It’s an easy pattern, but it ain’t mindless. As an adjective, I think “mindless” is way overused in the knitting community. Either that or I’m this village’s idiot.


Brooks Farm Yarn Duet
I originally bought this yarn for me, but when it arrived, it screamed the name of a RELATIVE, damn it. I tried reasoning with it, but come to find out the yarn has been to Sunday school. “It is better to give than to receive,” said this lovely mélange of mohair and merino. Crap. It is going to be another clapotis.

Mountain Colors Bearfoot in Moose Creek
Alright, alright, I bought this mainly because I am THIS close to completing my frequent shopper card at Table Rock Llama & Fiber Arts, which is kind of a big deal. You spend $200 at Table Rock, and they give you a gift certificate for $40! Also, I do really like the yarn . . . um, until it turned aggressive on me and threatened to shave my cat unless I brought it home. Immediately.

Debbie Mumm Traditions in Midnight
I never knew what “worming” was until I met this yarn. Bad, bad yarn. No soup for you! It went right back to Joann Fabrics. What was I thinking, buying mystery yarn at Joann Fabrics?

(clickable)

Old Shale Smoke Ring (by Cosette Cornelius-Bates)
... in Malabrigo lace weight Verde
I really enjoyed this project. My pattern notes: knit 10” on a #6 circular, 6” on a #7, and 6” on a #8 to finish. I wanted a lo-oo-ong smoke ring, so that when I use it as a hood it still has plenty of fabric to cover the back of the neck and upper back. Also, used a loose sewn bind-off for a super-stretchy edge. Sometimes I wish I could live in a cave lined with Malabrigo lace weight. I’d be the grouchy one yelling at the other cave-dwellers’ kids to get their rocks and pointy sticks out of my yard.

Shoulder Cozy from Wrap Style
...in some really nice Reynolds yarn I can’t remember the name of …
This has been finished for a dog’s age, but I’ve never like the way it fits. I’ve decided it needs a good blocking: pins, wires, other instruments of discipline. . .

Eunny Jang’s Anemoi mittens in koigu print and Knit Picks bare. One mitten done. Fun Pattern . Need to re-do the thumb on this one; I knit it too short. Don't you just hate that?

Adrian Bizilia’s We Call Them Pirates hat for Techboy.
Here you see him wearing it on his 17th birthday. I tried to make him a from-scratch chocolate cake earlier in the day, and the $%^! Thing literally blew up in my oven. So he ended up with a turtle cheesecake from King Soopers. Tasty.

Not tasty.

And my Ballerina is done! Since real life (ack.) is calling, I will save that saga for tomorrow. Cheers all.

Grumpy Head Cold. Messages. Happiness a Tiny Dot on the Horizon . . .

Bleah. I've been fighting a head cold for a week-and-a-half. I keep saying to myself: If this isn't better in 2 more days, I'm going to the doctor. Two days later: If this isn't better in 2 more days, I'm going to the doctor. And repeat.

Also, I've received a couple of messages from readers who don't log in when they leave a message. I just wanted to let you know that if you don't log in, I can't reply. There's no address for me to reply to. Unless you leave me your e-mail in the text of the message (?). I guess that would work, too. My understanding of blogging protocols and procedures is rudimentary, at best. But: I didn't want anyone to think I was ignoring them.

I think this head cold is making me a touch paranoid. And maybe a little bit grumpy. Of course the whole reality that it is now dark at 5:15 at night isn't helping, either. Time to pull myself up by my chintzy winter chukkah straps and get happy.

Check back tomorrow for possible attitude improvement. It might happen,it might not. Damn cold.

Big Box on the Front Porch

The Corriedale/CVM blend. Thank you, Jesus!

I **love** a big box on the front porch. I need to order in my paper towels, toilet paper, cat food, furnace filters and what not, just so I can get more big boxes on my font porch. Recently, this arrived:

A Large Box!!

And I recognized the box! This is the box from the cheap roaster oven I bought at Wal-Mart -- excellent for steam setting acid dyed yarn and roving.

I had put my Bond and CVM fleeces in this box 2 weeks ago, and sent them to Spinderella Fiber Mills in Utah. And now . . . Spinderella was using the same box to send the roving back to me! (Recycle! Reuse! Renegotiate! Or something . . .)

So I opened said box and found:

I was apoplectic with roving joy. Here we have almost 4 lbs. of a Corriedale/CVM blend (for some reason Spinderella thought it was a Corriedale/Finn blend), and almost 3 lbs of grey Bond. My Taos wool! Come back home to roost! Can I have a whoop, whoop?!

Oh, it is ** so-ooo** pretty, I am almost swooning. This is light, attenuated roving like I've never seen before. We're talking NO pre-drafting, just sit your butt down on the ottoman and go!
Um . . . I may not have time to blog for a while. I have almost 7 **pounds** of roving to spin! And lovely roving is:

* addictive

* non-fattening

* legal.

Therefore, I must leave you ladies (and Krystofer), to the business of life. For now, I must spin.

Cats Negotiate Truce. Tech Boy Nearly Smiles.

If you've ever added an additional cat to your household, you know the drill. For an unknowable (but hopefully brief) time cat A circles cat B, they make failing-car-transmission noises at each other, then stalk about on stiff legs, swishing tails as broad as feather dusters. They howl and hiss and stomp their little kitty feet. If either of the cats is Siamese, encounters tend to sound like two tone-deaf coloraturas screaming the Best of AC/DC. Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap . . .

After a week-and-a-half, I sat "the boys" down and told them: Enough already. We can't sleep because of the racket, and the husband has taken to calling our upstairs hallway "The de-militarized zone" because of the number and volume of feline attacks. Bailey gave me his usual "huh?" look, but Herbert has an uncanny way of tilting his head when I speak that makes me feel like he's translating. This afternoon, I found this:

All quiet on the Western Front. Shalom, wee kitty cats.

Also, just when I was considering putting Tech Boy out on the curb with a pork chop tied around his neck, I caught him being sweet to his cat.

"Surly Teenager" . . . redundant??

The savage beast soothes the Adolescent Golem of Doom

Closest he's been to a bona fide smile in 2 weeks (thanks, Bailey).

Herbert and Darth

Well, the T’s are dotted and the I’s are crossed – we are officially new parents! Here’s our 3-year-old bouncing baby boy:

Herbert the Tonkinese

I’ve got to tell you a little bit of Herb’s story. Skip down a bit if you’re not a cat person. Herby was surrendered to a local animal shelter because the owner’s son had developed allergies. What most people don’t know about Siamese and Siamese-type breeds is that they tend to have a strong bond with their people – more similar to what dogs have. This trait combined with native intelligence can make a Siamese freak out in a shelter situation – and that’s what happened to Herb. The shelter was going to euthanize him because he was deemed “unadoptable,” “anti-social,” and “catatonic”!!

That’s when a good-hearted tech (who was familiar with how badly the shelter experience can affect Siamese) called Rocky Mountain Siamese Rescue. The good folks at RMSR picked up Herby and found him a foster home. For 4 months Paige at RMSR fostered him, until my family “discovered” Herb at a local cat show (RMSR had a booth there), just waiting to become part of a forever family.

Here I am on my kitty perch in the window, having a snooze.

Herb is a sweet, loving boy who loves to be petted and talked to. He and Bailey are in negotiations as to who will be the dominant cat. Each day they get a little bit closer to one another, and their “conversations” are getting progressively more civilized. If you’re interested in giving a remarkable kitty a second chance, please check out Rocky Mountain Siamese Rescue. They are great to work with, and their dedication to homeless animals is an inspiration.

_________________________________

Here are my most recent photos of Darth Vader (unblocked). As you can see, I’m almost half done.

(Yes, the back is supposed to be longer than the front. )

There is a little bit of a “neck sag issue” in the back. There is a finishing band added around the edges at the end, and I think I will pick up fewer stitches along the back neck edge than suggested to help tighten the line here.

Ellen from my knit group is also knitting a Ballerina now. It is amazing how different our fabric looks – Ellen’s is much firmer and more “professional” looking. Mine reflects a certain fondness for beer. But, as you can see on Mitzy, it fits, and that’s all that really matters, right?

Right.

What I'm *NOT* Doing Tonight

Another lumpy bag arrived in the mail today. I tried to stifle my excitement as I went looking for the scissors. One quick slice, and there it was:

"Please spin me right away! Darth Vader doesn't mind waiting . . ."

"Please click on me, too! I'm even prettier up close!"

Why the little mohairy vixen. She knows I promised not to spin at all until I have finished Darth's second gusset. Must resist urge to spin. Must be strong!

This forward little roving is from Sakina Needles, an internet store I discovered while surfing last week. Her prices were good, and the colors were even better, so I placed an exceedingly tiny order. Minuscule. Hardly worth mentioning.

Anyway, I placed this atom-sized order on Tuesday, and it arrived in Thursday's mail. Holy Cow, Batman! When I checked the return address, I realized why. Sakina is just 60 miles away. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship . . .

Merino, Mohair, Chair-in-the-Making, and Darth

That's Corriedale on the left, and Bond on the right. I think.

click to see the fleecy goodness up-close and personal.

Tonight I must spend some time with Darth Vader (aka my black Hanne Falkenberg Ballerina jacket). But before I drag my reluctant Scottish patookey off to its dark fate, here is a wee update on recent projects:

On the Bobbin:

I don’t usually like spinning merino, but I **love** this color, and so made an exception with this roving. I got this on my Taos trip -- this is from Taos Sunflower, and I wouldn’t hesitate to buy it again. Getting used to the “slip” of the merino is a challenge. I found that pre-drafting the heck out of the roving helped a lot. I had to modify my pre-drafting technique a little also: Instead of fewer tugs further apart (works with longer staples), I had to use tiny micro-tugs every few inches (works with Merino). Also adjusted my wheel to a slightly higher ratio, which makes it spin faster.

Once the fiber was as attenuated as it was going to get, I split it in two and spun from that. Makes a nice single. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it.


This is from the mohair roving I bought at the wool market, from Kai Ranch Mohair. I love this funky yarn, and spinning mohair is a blast. If I had a teensy bit more of this roving, I would be tempted to used the bright yarn for the yolk of a circular-knit sweater, with the bottom portion of the sweater either solid black or brown. I've also considered using it with the merino from Taos Sunflower . . . I love them together, but I'm not sure I would love myself clothed in that much screaming green AND orange.

I bought a spinning chair recently on e-bay. When it got here, I was mostly happy with it. Except for the cushion attached to the seat. The cushion was covered with some very slippery silk-like fabric, and the foam inside was very wimpy. When I sat on the chair, I smashed the cushion flat, slid off the slippery fabric, and ended up on the carpet. Clearly there was a problem.

Spinning Chair -- It lost the Evil Teflon Cushion as soon as I could find a screwdriver.

SO: I am looking through my fabric library, trying to find a nice, sturdy cotton brocade. I’ve already purchased a heavy-duty foam cushion. I’m planning on keeping this simple: Make the welting, sew the cushion, staple it onto the seat back with my handy-dandy upholstery staple gun – voila!! – usable spinning chair! (Lord willing.)

And finally, for those who are interested in raw fleece, here's one more pics of staples from the Corriedale and Bond fleeces I sent to Spinderella's last week. I'm amazed by how similar these 2 fleeces are:

Bond and Corriedale. Or Corriedale and Bond. Soon to be picked and processed into roving.

Darth Vader is demanding attention. Sometime this week, I am taking pictures of him. Because it will make me feel better. It will be good to look at tangible proof that this is not the garter stitch time sucking black hole from which I will never escape. “Look,” I can say to myself “Two weeks ago you were only half way done with the first gusset! Now you are clearly three-quarters of the way done with the first gusset!”

May the Force Be With Us All.

Back to Taos . . .

One thing that was good about Casa Cucaracha: It was within easy walking distance of Kit Carson Park, where the wool festival is located. Saturday was a beautiful day . . . maybe 75 degrees with a slight breeze.

This festival looks a lot different than other “wool fests” I’ve been to. First of all, exhibitors are set up in a big open square formation (instead of rows). Second, there is no “main tent.” Instead, each exhibitor has his own mini-tent. I like it. You walk, you duck into a tent when something looks interesting, and if an interesting tent is too crowded the first time around the square, you catch it the second time around. Kit Carson Park is lovely – with big deciduous trees (sorry, I’m not good with naming tree species) providing shade.

The other thing that is very different: Dogs are allowed. Now, I like dogs, but I wasn’t sure how having a bunch of dogs at a fiber festival would work. After 2 days of co-existing with the canines, I have to say it was one of the best doggie groups I have ever witnessed. The dogs were happy, friendly, and their owners were keeping them in line and cleaning up after them. I didn’t witness one episode of bad doggie behavior . . . and I saw Goldens, Corgis (several), a Great Pyrenees, German Shepherds, itty-bitty mystery dogs in purses . . . you name it. It was like they were all on Doggie Probation and knew they had to behave themselves.

I came to the festival looking for: 1.) A fleece. Or two. 2.) Wool combs. 3.) A diz, which is used with wool combs, and 4.) Interesting hand dyed roving. By the time I had almost made my first full loop of the exhibit tents, I was starting to panic. No fleece! (Except for Navajo Churro, which I didn’t want.) No wool combs! No dizzes! Lots of yarn, but not much roving.

Then I saw it: The Natural Colored Fleece Booth. I beetled right over there as fast as my bermuda-shorts clad legs would take me.

Bond and CVM and Teasdale; Corriedale and Alpaca and Merino: Oh my! It was so nice to put my hands in so many different types of fleece. To see (and feel!) the difference those little sheep coats make. I’ll level with you – I forgot to put my camera in my backpack, so I don’t have pictures. You’ll have to imaging rows and rows of bushel baskets, some on the ground, some on shelves higher than my head, but each containing a gem of a fleece – the cream of the crop. Some were bedecked with ribbons won at local fairs.

There were plenty of white, and it was delightful to see all the variations on grey: silver-grey, rose-grey . . . pale dove, almost mauve, salt-and-pepper. “Moorit” is a word I had to look up recently – it means reddish brown – and there were several lovely moorit fleeces as well. I was in heaven as I went from basket to basket, finally putting a sense memory to terms I’d only read about: Broad crimp, fine crimp, lofty, dense, blunt tips, tapering tips.

The ladies staffing the booth were so kind and helpful. At first I was hesitant to open the plastic bags the fleeces were stored in. Right away a kind lady encouraged me to do so, and to pull off a hunk if I wanted to examine the staple length more closely! These ladies knew that their products would sell themselves . . .

Prices varied greatly. I saw some small but lovely Corriedale fleeces for $25-$30. Almost every fleece I examined was coated, and prices reflected that. $15 per pound seemed the average.

After an extended examination and re-examination of all things woolly, I picked out a white CVM (California Variegated Mutant) from Windy Hill Farm in Casper, WY and a medium gray Bond from Gleason’s Fine Woollies in Lyons, CO. Here are some photos I took at home:

Raw Bond Fleece (unwashed)

Washed Bond Fleece. Hard to capture the subtle shifts in color . . .

Washed CVM fleece. It washed up so white and lofty!

I washed the wool up in my tub at home. Oh my gosh. I don’t think I will ever deal with a non-coated fleece again! The lanolin floated away, and the resulting wool is just delicious. I decided to send it all to Spinderella’s fiber mill in Utah, as I’ve heard good things about them and their prices seem very reasonable. I’m blending the CVM fleece 50/50 with a lovely Corriedale fleece I already had. I should end up with 4 lbs of white roving and maybe 2.5 lbs of the grey Bond.

I never did find the wool combs in Taos, although I did hear other festival-goers asking for them! The response I heard was “Well, you can always find those on the Internet . . .” I did find some gorgeous mohair roving, which I’ve spun and plied. I’m washing it today, and will have photos later this week.

After a full day at the festival, I dropped my wool off at my room and walked into town. I love the local bookstore, “Moby Dickens,” as well as the funky antique door place, the paper store, and La Lana Wools. I had a nice wander around, and then enjoyed a lovely half carafe of wine and the chicken mango enchiladas at the Apple Tree Restaurant.

I stretched dinner a little, knowing that I had to go home to . . . El Cucaracha. But I didn’t want to walk home in the dark, so I polished off my cake and coffee and headed back to my own wee hotel purgatory.

Dimness suited Casa Cucaracha. Twilight was its friend. Nothing looked quite as bad as it had at noon. There were a group of fiber fanatics (we can spot each other, can’t we?) having an impromptu picnic in the courtyard. I’d opened my window earlier, and the place had aired out a little. I turned back my bedding, and upon seeing pristine cotton sheets I breathed a sigh of relief. (The worst hotel room I’ve ever stayed in had someone else’s hair on my sheets. For a while after that, I travelled with my own sheets.)

I changed into pajamas and settled in to hover over my Wool Festival bounty. I couldn’t help myself – I washed up little handfuls of both fleeces. (Casa Cucaracha did have VERY hot water – great for washing fleece.) I put a towel down in the front hall and left the 2 woolly puffballs to dry.

I’d brought my wheel, but the room was just too dim for spinning. Or for working on Darth Vader. I gave up and settled down to a night of bad TV. I turned in early, amazed at how quiet it was . . . I couldn’t hear another soul . . .

I was awakened at roughly 2 AM by the amorous sounds that always wake you at 2 AM at a bad hotel. Oh, good grief. Keep it down, lady. Nobody wants to hear your high opera in here. I turned to my bedside table, where I had stashed my earplugs earlier in the evening. Once those were safely in place, I passed an uneventful night and slept quite well, actually.

Before leaving I stopped at Michael’s Kitchen. Whenever I visit Taos I have to eat at Michael’s at least once. If you ever go, have the blintzes. They are to die for. After breakfast I circled the exhibit grounds one more time, then headed home.

I made one pit stop on my way out of town, and I’m glad I did. I went a few miles out of my way to visit Taos Sunflower, a fiber store in Arroyo Seco, NM. There I found some great yarns – including a nice selection of Malabrigo lace weight, one of my all time favorites. Their prices were good and their staff was friendly. I’m adding Taos Sunflower to my list of “must visit” places when I’m in Taos.

It was a beautiful day for a drive, and I enjoyed the fresh, sheepy smell of my fleeces all the way home.