YarnCon and Where are you, Robert Mattison

Many years ago, my best friend was Robert Mattison. I have no idea where he is today...let's just say my Google-fu isn't strong, and he might not have choosen to be as active on the internets as I have been/am.

He was a great kid, and I'm wondering what kind of man he grew up into.

And, on to http://www.yarncon.com
YarnCon.

Saturday. 10am-4pm.

I will be there, will you?

Indie-type yarn people...this might be well, probably not your Woodstock, but maybe your Pitchfork?

If anybody is going, and wants to meet up during or after, give a holler.

I'll do it myself

Soooo,

Things were great, and not too crazy, and everything look fine, and then:

Fitted Knits let me down a little.

I'd been whizzing through the Airy Lace Wrap Cardigan, and was down to the cables (yes, cables), when suddenly the pattern stopped making sense. Now, granted, it could very well be that it's because I've never done cables before. And, I understand that my learning curve is, well, pretty steep. Oh, and I know that I'm not a great knitter. I do it for fun. I like knitting and spinning...a whole bunch. I just feel no need to go out and learn how to knit faster, or smarter or better, because, it's not a contest.

I tried it, it looked stupid, because both cables are snuggled up next to each other, and not on opposite sides of the cardigan. I'm I on the crack?

I seriously don't know. I'm setting that puppy aside for a tiny bit, and returning to my old friend, fingerless mitts. Ah, simple tubes with a thumbhole, how sweet you are.

So, if anyone has knit this thing, and you have input, or simply are smarter than me, please, feel free to drop a line, and let me know.

Cheeseworld is opening, and as the date aprroaches, I realize that I simply have a ton to do, because my job got bigger. As much as I love this job (and, I really, really, really do), this comes at a suck time, 'cause now that there's a chill in the air, and the light has changed, I'm ready to spin and knit.

I lost my mojo all summer, and now desperately just want to sit around drinking coffee while I listen to podcasts and surf ravelry, and knit.

Oh, wait, that's what I did last week...oh, and Monday. Oh, and...maybe I should shut up now.

This is where I digress, and talk about how cool Ravelry is. And how nifty it is.

I'm on the 'pro' ravelry team. It's because quite fashionable to hate it in some circles, but, I really think that it's a great knitting resource. I'm always hesitant about 'community' on the internets.

I didn't expect it to take the place of my best friends, and I didn't think I'd meet all these cool people who would usher me inside the velvet rope of 'cool' knitters.

That would be left to me.

That said, because of Ravelry, I've gotten an offer to do some
*gasp*

writing about knitting for something quite large.

No, until that first piece is published, and it's out there, and you all can read it, I'm not telling where or when. Because those things aren't set yet.

I just got a lovely little PM that said that I was articulate, and had good ideas.

Wow. Thanks.

And, that they were wondering if I wanted to write for them?

Yes, yes I would.

Chez Ghetto

Yeah, that's exactly where I live.

I'm not talking about the 'oh, somewhat gentrified area that still has some drug deals on the corner'...no, that would be Logan Square. Or, 'used to be bad, but now has million dollar condos'...that would be Wicker Park. Or, 'still isn't great, but there's a whole bunch of us, and we're trying'...that would be Garfield Park.

I'm in the "where?"

People ask me where I live, and there's a pause, and then they say "where?"

Then I tell them, and they sorta squint. They have no idea where I live. It's sorta funny. Chicago is the 'city of neighbourhoods', and truely it is. It's just freaky that most people, unless they were born and bred in Chicago, have no idea about many of these 'hoods.

Ask your friends (if they live or used to live in Chicago) if they know where these neighborhoods are

Bridgeport. Maybe.
Canaryville. Bet they don't.
Blue Island. Fat Chance
Back of the Yards. Perhaps, but I'll betcha they've never been there.
Ukranian Village. Probably
Oz Park. They've been there, they just didn't know it had a name, because it's been swallowed up by Lakeview.
Austin. My home. Nobody has any clue.
Pilsen. Perhaps. It's my favorite 'hood right now. I wish I lived there.

Oh, and there's all the hoods in the far northwest side of the city, and all the hoods on the south side, and, and....but, odds are, if there's not a starbucks, and there's no faux Irish pub, they haven't been there.

It's sad, really. People fear where I live, and yet, it's filled with kids playing safely, who are called in when it gets dark, and mowed lawns, and construction and people who work for the city and the county...garbagemen and postal workers and cops.

I'll give you two guesses why.

Lessee...could it be race?
Um, yeah.

I'm a little sick of it, frankly. We have nice people living on my block. We don't have shootings on my block. We have families who live and work, and kiss their kids, and paint their houses, and remodel their kitchens and many of them are just like most people in this city. Okay, in the name of full disclosure, my across the way neighbors are not. They are a leetle trashy. The older son just got out of prision. He said it was drugs, but, it's not. I used the internets and he was arrested for sexual assault on a minor. He is creepy. I don't like him. He keeps trying to get into the house by starting long conversations with me, and asking if he can borrow tools. He is moving, soon, back to Michigan. Godspeed, child molester, Godspeed.

The whole west side isn't one drug-deal filled shooting gallery full of thugs. We don't have drug deals going on all night outside our house. We have a quiet block, one that has lightning bugs after dark, and the chirping of frogs when they mate.

Lovely, really. Big trees and turn of the century houses. Seriously. Drop by on a Saturday night. People will be in their back yards. They will be grilling. or sometimes Barbequing. (different things entirely).

However, if you do a search on the internets for your block, you might be surprised at some of the things that happen.

Chicagocrime.org is a great pastime.

Or, you can look up all the child molesters. Illinois has pictures of them all, along with what they've been convicted of, with the first numbers of their address, and the rest blocked out...for privacy.

I'm just sayin'.


Oh, and on the Etsy/craftfair front, I'm thinking that I'll do shows in October, November and December, and I'll start posting stuff on Etsy soon. I'm thinking that I'll get a retailer tax number, and that way, I can order fiber and yarn wholesale. I'm going to jump on the dying bandwagon, and see how that goes.

Wine and happiness and knitting

I was thinking about the fact that most knitters don't drink amazing wine. I wonder why?
I mean, they're happy when they get a knitting or fiber related wine that has a name like "Funky Llama" (real wine, btw), but wouldn't everyone be happier if they got a wine with a real, solid fiber link that tasted really, really good?


So, here it is, the beginning of a short list of wines that are made by folks with a real fiber content:


Owen Roe (I see you frowning. Owen Roe? What's up with that?)
Google the wines.
He's a Irishman who makes amazing wines in Oregon, and the last time I went to a trade tasting (His name's not Owen btw...) he and I had a nice little chat about his sheep. He owns sheep. and shears them. and makes cheese out of their milk. He's a sheep guy.

I like the Abbot's Table. It's not super-expensive, it's a fun blend, and it's complex and lovely.

Of course, he's got a second lable, as well, that's less expensive.
O'Reilly's. He makes a stunning dry, citrusy Pinot Gris that's amazing.

So, drink handmade wine. With real fibery content, not just some stupid name.

We fiber people value so many things handmade...there seems to be bleed over from the fiber stuff into the slow food movement and eating local. Think about the booze.

My focus at Cheese Wonderland (not it's real name) is handmade, organic or sustainable or biodynamic wine that's made by people and not by machine.

It's not all expensive, and it's not all snotty, and really, it tastes better.

Try it.

Freakin' Finally

Okay,

So, this is what I've been doing lately.

And yeah, that is commercially made rayon ribbon. I think it's pretty. It's not fun to work with, however, so, we'll probably never use it again.

So, just a holiday hint:

Stay on your meds. Please.

Not for you. I really don't care how you feel. For us.

Thanks.

We're Experiencing Some Technical Difficulties...Please Stand By

That sound you hear?

Blank Silence.

That's the sound of my digital camera not downloading pictures.

I have no freakin' idea why.

Whatever. I was going to post a shitload of stuff on Etsy, but now? Not so much.

I'll figure it out. And I have another video cord lying around here somewhere.

So, we'll talk about Craft Shows:

October Handmade Market @ Shuba's
Great room, lots of natural light. No customers.

Not one. And it wasn't just me. It was everyone. Nobody sold shit. It was lame.
I blame the neighbourhood.

November Handmade Market @ The empty Bottle
Rockin' as always.

Here's my favorite discussion with a 'customer'...I'll use that term, because 'clueless fuckwit' doesn't sound very nice. The interaction took place at Shuba's.

Clueless Fuckwit fondles my yarn for a while, and her equally clueless daughter of about 40 stands next to her.

CF: So, we pick the yarns out, and you knit it into something for us?

Me: No, people buy the yarn, and then they do stuff with it. You know, knit, crochet, whatever.

CF: So, you don't make it into anything?

Me: Nope, I just hand spin the yarn. You know, like on a spinning wheel.

CF gives me a narrow-eyed look. She holds up a hank of yarn.

CF: So it's almost 20 dollars just for the yarn? That's too much money!

I imagine the satisfaction I feel as I rip the yarn out of her gnarled hand and kick her fragile, brittle bones to dust. I slap on a fake smile.

Me: We'll these are very special. Mostly rare breed, or locally shorn sheep.

I offer another fake, bright smile, willing them to just move on to the next table and torture her.

CF: At most kitting shops they knit it for you!

Okay, so she was old. And, things have changed. I decide to cut her a break.

Me: That used to be true. For a small price, many Yarn Stores (notice my clever phrasing) did have some knitters that, for a small price, would knit a custom item. That's really not so true anymore.

CF: I don't believe that!

Me: Well....

I pause here. She is leaning over my table, lower jaw jutting out, sort of looking like a nasty, elderly bulldog. I hate her. I could continue this exchange, which, really isn't pissing me off, but she would get madder and madder, until her wraith-like body started twitching. She -could- have some sort of stroke. Am I up for this? I take a deep breath.

Me: You know, there's a yarn shop right around the corner. You should go talk to them about it.
I'm probably wrong.

CF snorts, tossing down the yarn.

CF: You don't know anything about knitting.

Okay, so I do feel bad about sending this woman to a LYS. But they were kinda bitchy when I was there...