My dear friend
Skiptastic posted the other day about, among other, more disturbing, things, how a certain project is becoming an obsession for her. She just can't seem to put it down. The funny thing is, to me, at least, that this obsession is latch-hooking a rug. Okay, there's nothing really inherantly funny about latch-hooking. It's just that Skippy has so many other interests and talents: she quilts, she beads, she cans, she paints, she gardens, and, yes, she even knits! She is, in fact, the first person I ever saw do Norwegian purling. But she's making her rug. Feverishly, obsessively hooking her evenings away (that does not sound right!), and it got me to thinking. What did I do before I started knitting again? That's when I dug this out:
It is one of several (probably too many, really) Temari balls I made after my mom and I had seen them featured on Carol Duvall of all places. I used to love snarking at her show back then. She always asked the most assinine questions, but these little beauties caught my fascination. They were traditionally made as children's playthings in Japan. Mine ended up as tree ornaments for my grandmother, my MIL, and the costumer I worked with in college. The process of wrapping and marking and stitching kind of played into my rather exacting nature, I guess, but they were actually fun to do, to watch the perle cotton make those pretty patterns with relatively few stitches, and quite impressive as gifts, I guess. MIL displays hers year 'round in the china cabinet.
My next dalliance with floss was:
MaryElla last spring. I have enough beads and floss to do several more, but there are other projects pressing on my mind. A few lovely things for gifts, and a truly hideous monkey to get off my back and send to a dear one who truly loves truly hideous monkeys.
Since I know you are dying to know, no the siding is not finished. Part of it that we had ordered to contrast was not available in the color we wanted, and so now is on order in the new (actually better) color. I'm using that information to justify to myself just why the workers didn't show up today. We all missed the pounding and sound of power tools. Really, we did.