Delayed

Okay, so yesterday was just paperwork and peeing in a cup. They'll call me in about a week (once the results of the drug test and background check come back) to give me my actual start date. I'm going to spend the rest of the week in Vermont teaching the boy how to sew.

The sweater I've been knitting is a sleeve and some ribbing away from being finished, and something tells me it won't make the Rhinebeck deadline... but who needs a sweater when you have a cute boyfriend to show off, right? ;)

Finally!

"Hi, this is Lilith Parker. You interviewed me on Monday, and I was wondering if you'd made a decision yet."
"Oh yeah, we've decided to hire you. Come in on Monday and we'll start the paperwork."

Gotta love such a nonchalant job offer, huh? So yeah, I'm a TIG welder again! Back to getting up at 5am and eating three times more than I'm used to. Oh, and having money again will be nice. Things were starting to get a little tight around here.

Less time for knitting and spinning, though. Oh well. I'm employed!!!

Walking Wheel Video

Jenny and I brought our wheels to the Big E today and set up in the New England center for a few hours to demonstrate spinning. She very kindly took some video of me spinning on Brigid.



That bit in the middle is, "this is totally going on my blog. Hello, blog readers!" See? I think of you guys. ;)

Farm Fest Fiber, Finished!

Better late than never, here's what I saw at Farm Fest two weeks ago. Brigid's in the foreground with about a quarter of what I spun on her that day. In the background is the tractor parade that happened around lunchtime.

I decided that the wool I spun that day needed to be two-ply, so I wound both cops onto bobbins and brought them to Vermont with Babette, where I turned them into this:





I didn't measure yardage or WPI, but this much barely made a dent in the bump it came from, so I can make a lot more if I decide to turn it into something big. Pretty, huh?

Babe(tte) In The Woods

Babette and I have returned from a wonderful week in Vermont, where a fair amount of this:



resulted in this:



and a very strong urge to move to Vermont soon and permanently. Right now, though, I'm in dire need of sleep. I almost don't want to go to bed... I've gotten so used to curling up next to the boyfriend that sleeping alone just doesn't seem right. But my body really needs the rest, so off I go. *sigh*

Out And About

Brigid and I will be at the Farm Fest (about halfway down that page) at Hilltop Farm in Suffield today. Come visit!

Later...

I spun on Brigid for six hours today. Six. Hours. In that time, I made two fat cops of laceweight mystery sheep singles. My right arm (the wheel arm) is sore, and I'm a little cooked from the sun, but other than that it was wonderful. It was a beautiful day, we had a lot of spinners and a lot of visitors, and I met someone who may be able to help identify my wheel! I love days like this.

Brigid

Earlier this week, New Haven SnBer Katy was asked to help clean out a relative's house, and she invited a few of us along, since said relative was a fiber artist. The fee for taking whatever we wanted was simply sorting out all the fiber and yarn so the stuff we didn't want could go to auction.

The fiber studio was like a candy store, with yarn, fiber, and tools everywhere. The first thing we saw was the huge loom, and next to it... two walking wheels. One lacked a spindle, but the other one was intact. At the end of the day, my guy showed up with his pickup truck, and we brought home my new baby.



Folks, meet Brigid. As far as I can tell, she has no marks indicating maker or age, so I don't know her story, but all she needs is a cotter pin and a drive band (plus a good cleaning), so I'm thrilled to have her.







Now I just have to figure out where to keep her. She's tucked in a corner of the living room right now, but we're going to be having some construction done near that area in a week or two, so she'll have to be relocated.

I finally have a walking wheel. I can't get over it!

New Baby

Isn't she beautiful?



I'll tell you all about how I got her and what else came with her as soon as I get the rest of the photos processed. Right now, she needs a name... preferably something Scottish. Any ideas?

Rest In Peace

One of my mother's cats, Chegwidden, lost his battle with squamous cell carcinoma last night. He had been fighting it for months, remaining sweet and loving through several surgeries, and passed quietly in his sleep. He was an affectionate, talkative, beautiful animal, and we will miss him very much.



Goodbye, Cheg.

Late-Night Adventures

My goodness, what a busy week it's been. Let me tell you a story.

Saturday night, the boy and I are snuggling in bed, just about to drift off to sleep, and the phone rings. He cocks an eye at the red "1:00" displayed on the clock, mumbles that nobody should be calling at this hour, and lets the phone ring. At 1:01, it rings again. Again, he ignores it, but with a hint of drowsy curiosity. At 1:03, it rings yet again, and finally he picks up and croaks out a greeting.

"Aww, man, did I wake you up?" It's his housemate. "I screwed up bad, dude. I got arrested for DUI. Can you come to the police station and pick me up?"

The housemate, hearing fatigue and reluctance as my guy tries to wake up and process this, promises to call everyone else he can think of before he calls back, so maybe someone else will be available to go get him. I know how this is going to turn out, though, so I sit up and start to focus.

Housemate calls back, unable to get in touch with anyone else, and gives us directions to the police station, which is 20 minutes down the road. We get dressed, and just as my guy is reaching for his car keys, I pull out mine. My brain is better at running on fumes than his, so it's safer if I drive.

We go down to the police station and pick up the housemate, who shows remorse, but can't seem to explain why he was drinking. He takes, "if you're behind on the rent, why are you spending money on beer?" as a comment instead of a question. Then he shares something neither of us knew about him: there's an active warrant out for him down south.

Well, crap. Why did we keep you from spending the night in a cell? He explains that it was just a fender-bending hit-and-run that he couldn't afford to deal with before he moved up here, which doesn't make us feel much better, but at least he's not a murderer or something.

As we finally get home and fall back into bed, the "2:20" on the clock reminds me how tired I am, and my guy is still trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

"I didn't even know he drank," he tells me. "Maybe I should start running background checks on potential tennants."

Yup, sounds like a wise idea.