Them: So when can we schedule you for a trial run for you updo.

Me: Okay, let me be clear, I really do not want an “Updo”. I just want something soft and simple for my wedding.

Them: Oh no, we just call them all updos. Of course we will give you a beautiful hairstyle.

Updo. Funny, that phrase just doesn’t say soft wispy with a sprinkling of flowers to me. To me updo says I am going to look like this:

or this:

Or at the very least this

I think I was just having a problem with the wording. Could we call it a wedding hairstyle? Not updo. Don’t say updo.

Them: Hi Stacey? I would like to confirm your trial updo with Ms.X tomorrow at noon.

Me: Great, but I really just want to talk about options, nothing really formal, just soft…um…

Them: Great see you then!

Now I am scared.

Obviously updo is okay for some gals, but me? not so much. And I am not naming the salon where this trial updo went down, because I do think that kind of style is just fine for a lot of brides. And the stylist was nice enough. I told her I wanted the do more down than up, just something soft. But honestly after the $50 2-hour session all I could think was “The bigger the hair the closer to God.” There was quite a bit of product, back combing and bobby pins. In fact, there were so many bobby pins, it felt like there was a metal plate in my head. Hell I could have glued the flowers to a magnet and stuck it directly into my hair.

Back at the office (yes I went back to the office…feeling taller…) I had Linda paged. I needed her honest opinion. I knew she would tell it like it is. The verdict…Nice hair …for someone else. It just was not me.

My favorite make up dude had it right…go with your every day look so you will look like yourself in you pictures. Actually he said “Find that stylist get your cute hairdo back and keep it simple.” You know a gay man will always tell it like it is when it comes to how you look.

On to plan B.

So as I surfed the radio stations during my 5 minute commute to work, I happened upon a radio show talking about one of their DJs skipping town to meet up with a woman he met online and pretty much taking a leave of absence to clear his head. The parent company is giving him 30days to do so. So what do his coworkers do on the air but CALL HIM. And they proceed to grill him on the air. I am actually feeling quite sorry for this guy. He needed to check out of his day to day life for a little while and they drag him back ON THE AIR. I changed the station just on principle alone.

Sometimes I take breaks from blogging to just deal with what is going on. And not always bad–I seem to have checked out the last couple of times I started a new relationship. For me that was just something I needed to sort out privately. Blogging was good for me when I was getting over a break up. But I’d like to think I blog about enough mundane things. I mean hell this is theoretically a knitting blog.

Haven’t been knitting at all this week. Spinning just a little(only because the looming deadline of LEAF is real). The invitations have to go out by Monday. I even brought them to Stitch and Bitch last night. My fellow SnBer thought I was insane for opting to handbuild 100 invites. But I am an art director, could not let this one go. I had to design my own invites. I used to make the most kick ass party invite on a shoestring budget. I am only a little stressed, but actually like doing the hand building. It feeds the closet bookmaker that gets edged out but all the fiber art stuff. Besides. I have to kick them out in a hurry so I can get to the new loom waiting patiently in the corner. Expect a detailed blog entry on that.

So let me back up to the part about crockpots. I have been collecting crockpots the last couple of years for the yarn. It is a hands down the best way to kettle dye. Lucky for me it is something that turns up in yard sales and thrift stores about as often as Black and Decker rice steamers and bread machines. A couple of weeks ago I scored 2 at Habitat for $5 each. One had a removable crock. When I was in college I had a roommate that made the easiest and most delicious roasts in the crockpot. The removable crock is the way to go for an easy cleanup. You know how us college student love to clean up. But as this new Suzy homemaker chic, I seemed to get all a twitter over this removable crock and the holy grail of many a homemaker has been saved from a life of dying yarn.

Ravelry has a crock pot group (enablers). I found this web site there. Oh My God. Domestic bliss. Daily recipes. And they are GLUTEN FREE!!! most recipes call for a can of cream of something soup which is something I can not eat because of my wheat allergy. The tapioca recipe is awesome!!

This weekend the crockpot was on for a solid 24 hours while I made sandwich meat for the week, dinner and dessert. The smell of chicken wafted through the house like a thick fog. To the cats it was sheer torture. Spiderman was particularly vocal about his complaints. He pointed to his bowl wanting to know why there was just a dry cereal in there as opposed to the chicken I have been torturing him with all night long. I do believe he gave me the finger. I generally do not give the cats people food because they become entitled assholes when I do. They get insanely assertive while you are trying to eat. Staring you down, trying to trip you while you carry your plate, and heaven forbid you leave that plate unattended. But damn it B caved. I think he was totally hoodwinked.

Spiderman was in jungle kitty hiding mode. Noticing he had not seen Spiderman in a few hours, B was worried he might have somehow gotten outside. In a panic opened the cold chicken container from the fridge. The cats came running (funny how they just knew exactly which Gladware container was being opened). Poor B was attacked and threatened by all three screaming cats and had no other choice than to give them each a little bit of chicken. Suzy homemaker and her fiancé will be eating crock pot meals on the front porch for the next week.

My other new obsession arrived yesterday (did I mention I needed another fiber hobbie like I needed a hole in my head?). A Kromski harp loom. I swore I would never start weaving. I am not really that keen on most hand woven fabric. I think it looks like a kind of retro 70s Moses coat. But this shop changed my mind. I am having fantasies of what the handspun would look like in a textural woven shawl. I do not have time to put it together until I get the wedding invites out the door. I think I will be doing the invites at a breakneck speed.

The wedding date is September 21st. Here is the website And yes I am registered for 2 crockpots. It is a sickness really…

I lost my oldest companion last night. Sarsaparilla simple laid down by the fireplace and peacefully crossed over. No long illness, no tragic accident, no indication of rapid decline. Last month the vet said she looked good for 15. And just this weekend she broke up a squabble between the boy cats, obliged the young girl kitty with a quick teasing wrestle, and fussed at me for arguing with my fiancé. But after 13 years of unconditional love without an ounce of the typical cat aloofness, I could not have picked a kinder end for what I will always remember as the most amazing cat ever. I can’t begin to tell you how much I miss her.

There are good friends who I am a little out of touch with. Friends who are too far away. Friends here? While I would love to plan a wedding with my posse, it just did not feel right for what seemed to be small reasons. And I did not want to hurt anyones feeling either way. I was really over-thinking it altogether.

After having a conversation with my mom over the woes of picking a maid of honor, I blurted out the names 2 people I really wish that I could have with me when I marry my sweetie. “It is your day and you can do whatever you think feels right”

So I slept on it. I read the etiquette bible guide. Once I checked the comfort level of all parties involved to make sure we were all okay with my unorthodox selection, I broke tradition and I chose my oldest friend who I LYLAS

Etiquette says he is really called a best man. I like to think of him as my Dude of Honor. And no I am not making him wear an ugly dress.

Let me just say I can not promise that this will never be a wedding blog. I honestly thought I was not that kind of bride. You know the kind of girl who practices writing her new married name.

To hyphenate or not to hyphenate…

Nor am I the kind of girl who buys wedding etiquette and planning books.

But yesterday I found myself in the magazine section of Barnes and Noble buying this:

I thought it was a craft rag, but low and behold it was a catalog of cute little wedding things. PURR-R-R-R-R

Someone put a spoon in my mouth and slap me hard. WTF? Am I really this girly-girl bride person? Is a sudden penchant for white flowers and tulle directly connected to having two X-chromosones and some estrogen? I think even my mother figured I would rather elope than have any kind of ceremony, much less want to attend a bridal expo. Those things are for young doe-eyed 20year olds. Not a career driven 40-something year old old-maid. Right? But I found myself truly upset that I missed the Asheville Bridal Expo in January. And I actually bit the head off the groom last night for suggesting I might be getting a little overzealous with the planning. Sweet Jezuz, I think I have become one of those bridezillas like that hilarious reality show on the WE TV. And it is only February…

BTW, I am looking for a wedding countdown thingy to put in my sidebar…Just putting it out there…

So, if you are wondering why my ETSY store is empty, well I have been distracted. Between yarn consignments and wholesale orders, other new hobbies {{{{cough cough wedding cough}}}} and life without a home computer, I have fallen behind on the shop updates. But I have some new base yarns in the works and finally bought a new computer. So once the dust settles a little bit I will start posting to the shop again. But if there is something you know you want email me. I can dye it along side some wholesale stuff.

I have actually been working on some knitting other than the Wedding shawl (which by the way must be performed alone with the phone off). I have signed up for a Ravelry club called the Thrifty Sock Knitters Club (that’s a Ravelry link). The group is for those of us who love the idea of those fabulous Sock Clubs (Oh, how I dream of belonging to Socks that Rock) but have a hard time justifying the $200+ to subscribe. The TSKC posts a couple of free sock patterns for you to download and it is a monthly knit-a-long. As you may (or may not ) know, I am lousy at the knit-a-long but great at the knit-b-hind. The first sock was Bellatrix by MommaMonkey (aka GiGi). I balled some of my kettle dyed merino and knit about 3 inches before I realized it was going to be horrifically big. I was using #0 needles and did not want to drop down any smaller. So the “sock” ended up in the UFOs and I awaited February’s pattern. Then, I read about GiGi’s untimely passing. What a shock, not because I was a regular on her sight. And not because I am a big fan of her pattern (I really was not familiar with her work). But out of the online knitting community, she is the first contemporary that I knew of that has died. I think of the online knitting community as so young and vibrant, that it is hard to wrap my brain around losing one of our own. We are still young and invincible right? And granted I am sure there have been a more than a few young fiber artists who have died in the last five years. Ravelry has brought the community so much closer together that news of GiGi ’s death spread fast. As a part of the online knitting community I felt the urge to honor a fellow fiber artist.

So I pulled the pattern back out of the basket and I bought some yummy Noro Sock yarn. Someone had completed Bellatrix in the Noro and it seemed to be stiff enough to show off the pattern well.

I had also ordered Knit Picks Harmony needles in every sock size, both DPNs and sets of 2 circulars (I LOVE THEM!) So with my lovely new needles and with a yarn that is a joy to knit, I am back to the Bellatrix in GiGi’s memory.

The March Sock will explore alternative sock structures with a Cat Bordhi sock or a bias knit sock. If you have not seen Cat Bordhi’s new sock book….go find a copy now.

At first I thought the designs were just weird, but then I realized Ms. Bordhi had totally reformulated the architecture of socks in 7? 8? 9? new ways. I want to just spend a year studying her new methods and applying different design elements to each. What can I say, I am a bit of a knitting geek.

I am also into exploring stranded socks and mittens. I work for Lark Books and have always been fascinated with our Fancy Feet and Mostly Mittens books. Right not those books are regaining some popularity despite being out of print and I have seen some great FOs and WIPs on Ravelry. So inspiring. I am dying some kettle stuff so I can play with the patterns.

I have a couple of other WIPs and pet pictures, but I will save them for future posts to break up my crazy bridezilla rants.

It has been sitting in the stash for almost 2 years now. A wickedly soft 5 ounce or so ball of alpaca lace weight yarn. You may remember my defeat in the Knitting Olympics 2006. I only made it two entralac rows into the pattern. Despite giving it my best and as much as I loved the pattern, there was no way I could finish in the allotted 2.5 weeks. Being a part of a knitting phenomenon was awesome. But once the knit along came to an end, I really did not feel very motivated to keep working the project. Even though I loved the pattern, a white lace shawl just was not very practical for me. It has been languishing in the UFOs ever since then.

Seriously, when would I ever I wear such an extravagant–albeit lovely–intricate lace shawl. You know… me–who NEVER wears a shawl.

Well I kind of have a reason now…

It happened on Groundhogs Day. After a great afternoon at B.B. Barnes planning out our first garden together, B took a detour to a near by park. And on one knee asked me to marry him… And I said “Are you serious?”

But then I said yes.

So at 41, I will be getting married for the first time, and he was well worth the wait. The date is set for late September and I am hoping to drape myself in the lovely Forest Path Shawl.

For the first time since before I moved here I will be volunteering and camping at the festival. It is like a mini vacation for me and B. We will be immersed in new age, hippie, world music, it-is-all-goodness from Thursday night till Sunday evening. I have no doubt come Sunday, I will be sick of the flaky earthy mind set, make a stop through Taco Bell and go home to drink a non-organic soda and watch some HBO. But for 2.5 days, I will remember why I love Asheville and it’s conclave of free thinking liberals. And I will be reminiscing Fall LEAF 1999, and why I decided that very weekend to leave Birmingham and live here.

The yard sale was last Saturday. Big sale, lots of stuff, a great time and I made $50. Not bad for someone who just grabbed some stuff from around the house to put with my coworker’s grand purge. However, I was on the edge of killing a couple of early bird dealers who ignored my “no early birds” flyers. For instance some idiot pulled into my driveway with their LOUD truck at 6am. Or the Scary Mt. Man with the white beard and braid who was just looking for some old tools AT 7AM. But the worst was this one woman who stuck around for an hour. She had the most irritating voice (especially pre coffee–such as it was for me). And she was chatty. High maintenance chatty. We heard all about how she was just trying to furnish her double wide. Right… with bargain antiques. Hell, she knew what the jadite dinnerware was, but wanted the complete set for $10. I was surprised that I sold a lot of my old clothes. And I was tickled to unload the damn pond liner that I was never going to use. It was a great time, but I was exhausted. Spent Sunday staring at the walls, twitching.

So, ever since Monday, I have been making lists and packing for this coming camping weekend. I forgot how long it takes to pack for festival camping. Don’t get me wrong, I love love love it. And I am the queen of the festival camp site. In other words–I am a high maintenance camper. I am not talking pack what I can fit in a backpack kind of camping. I am talking pull the SUV up and unload all my crap kind of camping. Canopy, kitchen center, and the knitting (because what better way to spend my knitting time than at a music festival). And don’t think I did not think about bringing the spinning. Who knows. If there is room in the SUV, the wheel might actually make it to Black Mountain.

You see I have switched from one addiction to another. Sometimes in a search to break free of an addiction one might fall victim to a substitute addiction.

My new addiction—handspun sock yarn.

While I will always love making little babette squares, I totally love spinning hand painted roving into sock yarn. It takes for ever and a day to spin up, but so worth it. I was going to ball this skein up and take it with me camping and make some socks. But the minute I showed coworker G, she had to have it. No worries, I can make more.

ADIRONDACK Hand Painted, Handspun sock yarn–4oz, 426yds, 17wpi–100% superwash merino wool