Over the past week and long weekend, I did knit, but that’s not what you’ll see here today.
Once upon a time, I went to a fiber festival of some sort – it was a list of places and a map of locations around New England – with my mom. We stopped at Random Farm X (it might say on the handwritten sweater pattern I have, I’ll get back to you) and I bought a large clear bag full of natural brown scratchy worsted weight wool.
This was going to be my first sweater!
There was a pattern for a roll-neck top-down raglan pullover, and I guess I thought it was a good idea to try for the XL size.
Here’s the result. [It wasn’t my first finished sweater…see? no sleeve? And unique potato-sack-like qualities?]
It was in storage for ages and when I took it out, there was a carpet-beetle related hole near the right armpit. I washed it and dried it and found all the remaining yarn and despite the obstacle of a big hole, genuinely thought I was still going to finish it.
I changed my mind.
It took SO LONG to take apart that sweater. I have washed some of the skeins, but I have a couple still to go. I had to do this in shifts, alternating with knitting and spinning, because it was pretty mind-numbing. And scratchy. And dusty. I sneezed a lot. I frogged, I wound on to the niddy noddy, I soaked, I dried, and I still don’t have balls of yarn again, but soon enough. Also I’ve been ruminating on the next incarnation of this yarn.
Something along these lines, perhaps?
As for turtling, I was minding my own business this weekend, when I happened to look out the kitchen window and see Mr. Terrapene Carolina Carolina walking by.
The cats were interested, but not as curious as I thought they’d be. It might have had something to do with Mr. Eastern Box Turtle’s hissing.
I wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be in my neck of the woods, so I put him in a plastic bucket holding tank while I researched him online. I found a photo and a description telling me that he was a male, and he was an eastern box turtle, and he was fine in the environment of my backyard, and even if he were diseased or injured, which he wasn’t, I should let him go, because they are very resilient. Their biggest foe is humans, who tend to run them over when they try to follow their homing instinct, particularly if humans have moved them from the place of their birth.
Once I established that everything was as it should be (other than the fact that he peed himself in the bucket, probably out of self defense), I let him go in the shade. He burrowed into the leaves and after a few minutes, I couldn’t tell if he was still there or if he’d continued on his intended trajectory.
Isn’t he pretty?