THE MANY COLORS OF LEAVES

We try to walk at some point each morning (we being Hubby and I). And our favorite place is a big park about three blocks from us. Although they (they being the park personnel) keep blocking off sections of it with removable chain link fence (for some reason that nobody can figure out – not even the park workers) there is still plenty of paths to take. Paths bordered by low stone walls that are crumbling with age in some places and covered with moss in others.
Before long it’ll probably be too hot to walk through the park, even at six a.m., but right now the weather is perfect and the place is gorgeous with the early morning sun working in concert with the many trees to create ever changing cathedrals of dark and light. Although there aren’t any flowers the place is full of hedges and trees that are spread out over huge areas of lush, green grass.
While I can’t really duplicate nature’s colors when I dye, I love to use her combinations of colors when I spin – shades of blue and a little white like the ocean. Pink and green like a eucalyptus tree in bloom. And of course the many colors of leaves.
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THE GIRL AND THE STICK

The neighbors across the way have a darling two year old daughter named Jordan. When she was about eighteen months old, her mom was taking her for a walk in her stroller, saw me out sweeping the walkway, and stopped to chat for a minute. One of my cats, Sugar, heard us and came out to the porch to investigate (Sugar is a little snoop who has to be in on everything anyone is doing). As Sugar stood on the porch staring at us, Jordan, from her stroller, pointed at Sugar and said, “Sit”.
Jordan is a sweet little thing who is interested in everything around her. So the other day it occurred to me to take some of my fluffy, undyed mohair and let her hang it from the bushes for the birds to take for their nests. Jordan listened quietly while I explained to her that the birds would carry the fleece home and use it to make their nests warm and comfy. Then we placed it strategically in the hedge so that Jordan could watch for the birds from her living room window. When she was finished carefully placing her pieces on the leaves, I said my “good-byes” but before I could leave, Jordan ran across the grass and found me a lovely, little stick to keep. How sweet is that?!
My Etsy shop is: www.recklessspinner.etsy.com

THE WEIRD 40-SOMETHINGS

The other day I realized something that I find very weird. My address and the addresses of my children (in other words all 4 of us) have the numbers 40-something in them. My youngest son’s address has 41 in it, my daughter has 42 in her’s, mine has 43 in it, and my oldest son’s has 44 in his. I don’t know which is weirder, that we all have 40-somethings in our addresses or that the realization popped into my head out of the clear blue!
Still caught in the wonder of that phenomenon, it just dawned on me that the 4 of us also have the 40-somethings in our home phone numbers! My youngest son has the number 40 in his, my middle two children have 44 in theirs and I have 47 in mine. AND! We all have 40-somethings in our cell phone numbers, too! (two 44’s, a 41 and a 48!) What’s going on here?! This is kinda freakin’ me out!
I tried to find out what 40 represents but didn’t have much luck with that. My favorite number is three so there’s no relevance there. I tried playing the lottery with the 40’s numbers but didn’t win.
What’s it all about? I’d love to know; I’m sure it means something because it’s just too weird!
My Etsy shop is: www.recklessspinner.etsy.com

A LUXURIOUSLY SOFT, MOHAIR BED

It all started several years ago during a time of very warm weather, so warm in fact, that by the time the sun was up it was comfortable enough to do my spinning in the backyard. I was using mostly mohair and when a sudden breeze came up, a bit of the fluffy stuff blew onto the lawn. Before I could retrieve it a sparrow swooped down and carted it off - reminds me of the time a mocking bird chased me all the way home trying to get some of my hair for her nest...but that's a whole different story.
It was mid-morning when I finished spinning (I can get a lot done if I start at five a.m.). I’d used an old sheet to spread the dyed fleece out next to me. There were quite a few small mohair curls and tufts of fleece left but concerned about the dye on it and the health of the birds, I took some natural mohair fleece and tossed it onto the lawn to see if the sparrow would come back for more. To my surprise, within minutes the sparrow along with his mate (who stood look-out from the fence) as well as several finches all took part in the giveaway.
The other day my neighbor called to tell me that a wild wind we’d experienced the previous night had blown a little, empty nest from her tree. She said she had put the nest back on a low branch hoping that its parts would be of use to some bird.
“I couldn’t put it in the trash,” she explained, “it was so pretty, full of the pink and blue fluffy stuff that you spin.”
My Etsy shop is: www.recklessspinner.etsy.com

NEVER GIVE A BALL OF YARN TO SOMEBODY HEAVILY SEDATED

Hubby and I volunteered to help someone get an endoscopy yesterday. Endoscopies seem to be “in” right now; the office was jam packed and this is the third person I know of who has recently had one. Because there were so many people the procedures were running an hour late…let’s see…12:30 in the afternoon and no food or water since midnight the previous night, an extra hour to sit and wonder how the procedure would go and what they might find – it was torture for the patient!
I, of course, had brought my knitting with me. I’m using balls of cotton and leftover balls of my handspun wool to knit up patterned squares that will eventually end up an afghan. Needless to say in the four hours sitting in the waiting room, I got a lot done.
When we were finally allowed to retrieve the patient she kept asking, “Now what did they do to me?” The nurse whispered to me that she would probably ask the question several times – no kidding! That question had been asked and answered (by me) seven times in the past five minutes.
Although her speech was fine and she looked normal she was a little wobbly. Hubby took one side of her and I took the other while juggling my knitting bag, her purse, jacket and keys. We walked her to the car, as I explained for the twenty-fifth time what they’d done to her.
We got her into the back seat and buckled up. As we took off she asked, “Now what did they do to me?”
I was halfway through my repeated response when she asked for her purse. As I passed it back to her my ball of yarn fell from my bag, rolled into the back and onto the floor.
“It’s okay, I’ll get it when we get home,” I said.
But she had already picked it up and somehow got it wound around the handles of her purse.
I leaned between the seats to try and help unwind the mess but I guess I was unwinding one way and she was unwinding the other because before I knew it the yarn was tightly wrapped around one handle in some places, and both handles in others.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Hubby shaking in silent laughter as most the twenty minute trip home was spent with me twisted backwards between seats trying to wind up the yarn as fast as our patient unwound it.
By the time we pulled into our driveway I had my yarn back (with only a few rows missing) and our patient had her purse back.
As I unbuckled her to get her into the house she looked me in the eye and asked, “Now what did they do to me?”

My Etsy shop is located at: www.recklessspinner.etsy.com

DYEING MOHAIR – PART II
My brother-in-law, John, has agreed to help me light the camp stove so I can steam my dyed fleece; I’d ask hubby’s help but he hates anything more complicated than turning on a light switch…and admits that even that baffles him on especially dark nights.
I knew I couldn’t light the camp stove using a book of matches, and I knew I wanted something longer than a wooden kitchen match. I also knew that a fireplace match wouldn’t keep me far enough from harm’s way. Nor would it light the propane fast enough for me to hightail it to the house once the thing was lit. I needed something bigger and better than a match. I needed…the Olympic torch…but I knew that was out of the question so I headed back to the hardware store.
Either it was my lucky day, or the manager had just come back from his break because, although some of the sales people were hiding down less popular aisles so they could talk to each other on their walkie-talkies, there were several of them offering help to every customer they could find. My helper caught me before the automatic door slid shut behind me.
“I have to light a propane stove so I need something better than a match to do it,” I said to him.
“We don’t got nothin’ like that,” he replied.
“I think I’ll look in the patio section and see what you do have,” I told him.
Evidently curious to see what I’d find there, he went with me. Before even entering the patio section I saw, hanging on an end rack, a barbecue lighter shaped like a gun with a very long nose.
“Maybe this will work,” I mumbled to myself.
“Nuh uh,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re gonna light a propane tank you need somethin’ bigger than that,” he stated.
“I’m not going to light the tank,” I tried to explain, but he cut me off, and whipping out a walkie-talkie he pressed the talk button.
“Caroline! Caroline! You there?!” he shouted into the unit.
“Yeah,” Caroline shouted back through the static.
“Caroline,” you got anything long, real, real long, you can use to light things with, over there?”
I wanted to tell him that I didn’t plan to light the camp stove from the neighbor’s yard, but I doubt he would have listened anyway.
“No,” she yelled back. “Nothing like that over here.”
I started to reach over and take one of the barbecue lighters from a peg, but my helper put his hand out and stopped me.
“Caroline,” he said, once again into the walkie-talkie, “haven’t you got something?...like a long stick or somethin’?”
“A stick won’t work,” I told him, inundated with visions of me lighting the stove, then running for the house with a flaming stick in my hand.
Again he stopped me before I could get my hands on one of the barbecue lighters.
“No. Nothing like that over here,” Caroline repeated.
“Then how about a long pole? Something she can tape a match to? This lady needs somethin’ to light her propane tank with!”
“I’m not lighting the tank!” I snarled, nearly as frustrated as him. “I want to light…” But before I could add, “…a camp stove” a man walked up and asked my helper where the nuts and bolts were. Now I could have told the man, having spent most of the previous day in that aisle buying unnecessary items, but instead I took the opportunity while my helper was distracted, to grab a barbecue lighter from the rack.
“Thanks for your help,” I called over my shoulder as I ran for the check-out stand.
My etsy shop is at: www.recklessspinner.etsy.com