And here's what I decided to do...

There's a book to write, blogs to post, new music to get under the harp strings and onto paper...and here's what I decided to do:

Yep. I embroidered some dishtowels.

I could say that I need a little break from the writing to clear my mind, get new ideas, see the story from a fresh perspective.

I could say that there's nothing going on in my life that's interesting enough to blog about, so I'm not going to force the posting.

And I could say that the new song has been rolling around in my head for almost a month...it's not going anywhere, I don't have to play anywhere soon, there's no need to rush its "setting" to paper.

But really? Really I think I needed to take some thread and kind of sew myself back together. Travel always leaves me a little unraveled when I get back, especially emotional journeys like the trip to Ireland was. Needle up and down, stems and petals forming, progressing, completing, blossoming under my fingers. Bright red poppies on dishtowels for my kitchen. One of them already has a big tomato stain on it. Yesssss...Craft-art therapy. 

I think the other things will fall into place soon. For one, I'm going to meet with a writer friend on Monday. For another, I'm meeting with a harp friend on Thursday of next week. Resulting in, perhaps, more news for the blog. For now, though, I've got the 4th towel in progress. Stitching things back into making sense...

Ireland: Yarn - resistance is futile

I'd been told the store was out of business, but when I turned the corner in Dingle and saw Commodum there with its red awning and Latin lettering, I started to run.

Mecca, to this knitter. (photo from the Commodum site)

 But I wasn't going to buy any yarn.

No way, no how.

Oh, be still my knitter's heart.

Stillll...

Steady...

Oh, FINE! I "only" bought 4 skeins each of a glorious, buttery yellow (to remind us of the whole pound of butter we ate in four days with our bread and scones at Mermaid Isle) and some grey-heathered-purple that I just couldn't leave behind. And some natural white, straight off the sheep. And some Irish cotton-linen. And a red already-made cape with dotted and felted sleeves and cowl (because I'd never want to make that myself...yes, that's the justification...). 

Now you know my weakness. Tempt me with yarn, and I'm yours. Well, within reason. And I hear the weather back home is done with its heat wave and has turned cooler and rainy - perfect weather for starting a new knitting project.

It would be kind of nice if the sheep just kind of knit themselves, wouldn't it?

You could place your order, the sheep would grow wool in your pattern and when it's shorn,

it's ready to be worn. Yeah.

How I came to buy yet another Irish wool sweater

I was exhibiting great restraint at the Blarney Woolen Mill. Grrrrreeeaaaattttt restraint. Walked right past the piles of Aran sweaters with their creamy yarn and traditional stitches.

 Those cables. Seriously.

Looked at, didn't touch, wraps in the shades of the Irish flag.

Loved the layered look. Irish wool + Irish lace = Heavenly.

I even tried on a gorgeous, lavender-heather sweater coat that was on sale for an amazingly good price, admired myself for a while in the mirror, tried on a matching hat (also on sale) and then put the whole ensemble back on the hanger. I don't need another Irish wool sweater. Plus, I knit. I have looked upon the magnificence of my yarn stash at home and declared that I shall not buy another sweater until I have knit up said stash of yarn.

But then came the tempters. The manager of the Mill descended upon me, telling me that a knitter not buying a gorgeous sweater is like a chef never going out for a delicious meal in a restaurant (good point). Our darling saleswoman, Geraldine, told me that the color was soooo lovely, and turned my eyes the color of the sea. Then I heard rustling coming from pockets and purses on both sides of me. Suddenly, a $20 American bill was slipped into my left hand (from Aunt Sheila) and a 50 Euro note was slipped into my right (thanks, Mom).

And that, my friends, is how I came to be the owner of another Irish sweater.

And a hat to match.

I know, SamTheCat, I know

It's time to start knitting again.

That happens to be a ball of the pinkest pink Mountain Mohair he's killing. It's just waiting to be a cute little tie-around-the-waist vest with a leafy lace bottom...hopefully it'll happen before winter's over.

The ONLY thing better than books and music in one day? / December 6

That would be YARN and music, all in one day. I played for my favorite yarn store, The Tangled Skein for their Christmas open house.

I must say — the colors, the textures,
the wonderful woolliness of it all was quite distracting.

How could I resist? I came home with a bag full of new yarn. There's a long January ahead of me with few harp playing engagements and plenty of winter left. I bought some soft grey and white yarn for knitting myself some felted slippers. I also bought a vest pattern I'll adapt for using some of the luscious pink Mountain Mohair in my stash.

SamTheCat approves of my choice.
Bad kitty.