The Yarn Harlot’s post today is about being alone in the house and using loneliness as a positive force.
It’s funny how relevant that post is to me today – my boyfriend left for a three-month workshop over the weekend and I find myself alone in our apartment for the first time since we moved in together.
In the past year that we’ve shared a place, we’ve inadvertently picked up some bad habits and/or amplified preexisting ones. For example, we ended up eating out way too much because as long as either one of us suggested a restaurant we ditched the kitchen and went out. So we vowed to make this time apart helpful and effective for us. We are both supposed to be creating new, healthy and productive habits while we are apart so that we can start fresh when he gets home.
But in the five days since he’s left, the apartment is still messy, I haven’t worked out, my to-do list is probably even longer than it was, all my knitting and spinning WIPs are still half done, and I still spent my pocket money on chocolate. I was really trying to save that for, I don’t know, vegetables or charity or something.
Please don’t laugh, but I think I didn’t realize that I was going to feel lonely when he was gone. I was so looking forward to having the apartment to myself that I didn’t take into account that an empty apartment means that bf isn’t there.
Having travelled across continents by myself I feel rather silly feeling alone in my own hometown, but there it is.
So today, one step at a time toward efficient, happy, productive bad-assedness. I’m updating the blog and have eaten a healthy breakfast and lunch. Maybe I’ll clean my apartment tomorrow. Huzzah!
Handknit wool socks with velcro shoes.
A recent post over at Dull Roar about a skein that’s been in her stash forever got me thinking about a couple yarns filling that same role in my stash. I have one ball that even looks similar to hers, though I believe it is Berocco something.
unloved mystery yarn
I have started projects once or twice with this yarn, but it’s always been that awkward ball that is overlooked for a more suitable colleague. I kick myself for keeping it – there have been times in my life when space was a super premium and I wasted some of it on this yarn that I will probably never knit.
I’m not exactly sure when I got this stuff but I believe that since I have purchased this yarn:
-I finalized a divorce, and my ex-husband has remarried and they are now preggo with baby number two
-I finished my PhD
-I have lived in six different apartments and moved back in with mom twice
-That includes moving to Singapore and back
-I’ve been in three living-together-serious relationships (third time’s a charm right? fingers crossed)
-Facebook became a thing (can’t recall how I kept up with people back then haha!)
I’m working on stash reduction this year, so maybe this poor ball of yarn will finally get its day in the sun. But probably not. I can romanticize its plight but I still don’t like it that much.
I bought most of the knitting needles I own around the same time, and it seems that they are all going kaput around the same time too.
The interchangeable needles are having this problem:
So I decided it was time for a replacement/upgrade. The same package that brought me a turkish spindle also had this in it:
A shiny new set of HiyaHiya interchangeable circs. I was eager to dive into the project on the broken needle shown above, but as I’m away from home this summer, I didn’t have my needle sizer to figure out what I was knitting on. (In retrospect, I could have just checked my Ravelry project page, but that would have been the easy solution so of course I didn’t think of it.)
What to do? I took some white string (actually some white single I spun a while back and use as a leader yarn on my spindle), wrapped it around the broken needle, and drew a line with a pen.
The pen marks will only line up around another needle if it’s the same diameter as the original.
Correct diameter – the ink lines match up
Wrong size needle – ink marks don’t match up
This idea is related to an ancient form of cryptography called a scytale. People would send secret messages by wrapping the notes around a stick of a certain diameter; only those with a stick of the same diameter could read the message.
I think this is the first time my academic research has informed my knitting – I’m tickled!