Mar 21 2010
onward. with more wool.
This past Monday I had a biopsy performed on the back of my left hand, between the first and second knuckle. I’ve developed what I’m told is a painful type of eczema on nearly every finger as well as the palms and over the knuckles on both hands. Given the stress-level recently, I’m not really surprised. But, just to be sure, a biopsy was called for.
I cried when they put the freezing in. Not because of the presented pain but because of what had lead up to it. The last six weeks have been rather painfully challenging on many different levels. And all I could think was, while the freezing was being injected, now I won’t even be able to KNIT. It was sort of a final blow. The poor women performing the biopsy didn’t quite know what to think watching this over-40 woman fall to pieces over a small little procedure.
I am back to knitting, even though it is painful. I just cannot imagine getting through a day without it. So, I guess I am hardcore. What can I say. The location of the biopsy means I have pain shooting down the fingers and up across the back of the hand, and sometimes up toward the elbow. But, it’s lessening on a daily basis and the hope is once the stitches are removed, it will be more comfortable.
The good thing is, I made it into the dyeroom for the first time in a long time before this past Monday. So there are a few new goodies in the shop.
And before that, I’d spent a good chunk of the last month or so petting some new fleece wool I’d ordered from a wonderful little farm in MA, Cranberry Moon. Lisa’s farm is also a member of Local Harvest where you can oogle all sorts of goodies, from produce to hand-made items to wooly goodness, from various farms around North America.
Before my hands got really sore, I’d developed a new affinity for hand-carding. Previously, before I’d started having mobility issues forcing me to slow down and smell roses a little more than I’d been known to do, I’d not had much patience for hand-carding and combing. Everything flew through the drum-carder. But I ordered this fibre with hand-combing in mind.
Gray Romney, Black Cotswold and some White Leicester Longwool, gently washed but still in their glorious locks. Yummy. I have ideas to use it all in combination with other fibres here to make several sweaters. I will likely dye the Longwool before combing. I know it’s going to be a long-term project (or should I say ’several’ long-term projects), especially now that I’ve been slowed down somewhat by this issue with my hands. But I’m healing so hopefully it won’t be too long before I can start playing around with the combs and carders once again.
I also fell in love with some cheerfully dyed BFL locks from Tumble Creek farm, discovered through the Oregon Wool site.
I did get a portion of these carded and spun - single-spun in a sort of gradating sequence, in February. The rest will be carded in with something at some point, to make a sort of multi-coloured flecky (for lack of a better word) sweater yarn I have designed in my head.
I haven’t decided just yet if I’m going to use it just on its own - the locks were incredibly crimpy and springy. I have ideas to possibly ply it with something earthy like a gray merino. I’m betting it would knit wonderful socks or maybe a nifty cowl. Or mitts or maybe a beret.
Anyways, always good to have a little wool insurance for the future. :)
As well, I managed to finish up half a pair of socks:
One Rattlesnake Creek Sock knitted in Wooly Wonka Fiber’s yummy Aerten Yarn. I cast it on a few hours after hearing of my father’s death. Amazing what such a small project can do to help you make it through.
And this is not all of it, the therapy. I am still working on the hand-spun Kelmscott as well as spinning up batts for a Fylingdales cardigan. But I will save some things to show you in another post.
ETA: I nearly forgot this - Cleopatra. For Anne’s Shakespeare in Lace 2010 Club. All finished up, too, as of last week.
There is one line in particular running through my head from the hymns sung at Dad’s funeral. This is not surprising, given I am sort of a hymn junkie. I often have hymns running through my head. But this one sums it all up quite tidily:
strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.
Wool therapy, doing its job.
