all folked up

I woke up this morning to my dog licking my hand in a manner than can only be described as desperate. She only does this when she really needs a human to open the door for her so I rolled out of bed but rather than following me downstairs, she hopped into my spot on the bed and promptly went to sleep. Bitch only lickin’ to steal some valuable real estate on the bed. Jerkdog.

So while being serenaded by The Husband and The Dog’s snoring, I’m finally sorting through photos from last weekend. I’m still, 6 days later, recovering from 2.25 days of Folk Fest. All week at the office I had to hear “wow, are you alright?” or “should you BE here today?!?” because seeing my somewhat pregnant self slugging around like I’d been on a 5 day bender is concerning for other people. Each time I fessed up to partying my pants off all weekend but no one seemed to believe me. I stayed up to the morning hours and had a helluva great time – I wish I’d been there longer because I missed doing and seeing things on my list but I think if I’d stayed even 2 hours longer, I’d have passed out from sheer joy mixed with exhaustion. And I even garnered a nap on 2 out of 3 days.

I saw old friends  and made new friends:

Juliana

Max's hand with Jules

I saw my favourite world-traveler/activist and the moment of seeing each other was very Lassie/Timmy, slow running towards each other, arms wide open…  except for the part where I was so overcome with excitement that I caught my bag’s zipper on my shirt and got wound up and completely restrained. We spent our first few moments squealing while trying to get me untangled. It was actually a pretty fitting reunion moment.

Lisa

Professional Protester and All 'Round Awesome

I also saw a Bunny On A Rope(tm):

BunnyOnARope

Bunny on a leash

I convinced a man to take off his shirt:

shirtless man

shirtless man

I did not see Schmutzie however I was able to locate the specific table at the pub where I expected her to be. I felt vaguely like a stalker, confidently walking up to a table of strangers-to-me friends-to-she based purely on evidence from her Flickr photos. It was kinda awesome, actually.  Alas, although I met Mr. Head, I did not see Schmutzie nor The Palinode. It would have rounded out the weekend but not every weekend can be perfect.

My mom and I take our folking rather seriously – as soon as gates open, we’re there. As soon as a stage opens, we’re scoring the spot that is a perfect view of people-watching and stage-watching. We picnic lunch and then take a break daily around supper, usually at the food tents (BUTTER CHICKEN AND MINI DONUTS, I LOVE YOU) then hop back to the stages. If a very loud band comes on stage or someone we’re not passionate about watching, we go and cruise the arts market because we can hear the band clearly while we shop. My mom is the Ultimate Girl Guide, packing food, rain gear, tarps, jackets and glow in the dark gear.

Kytami1

Delhi 2 Dublin onstage

HARD CORE, people. That’s what we are. Only, you know, in a folky way. It’s not just folk music but any music that can be defined as “music for the people”. This year closing out the musical menu on each night were K-Os (R&B), The Wailers (Bob Marley’s reggae peeps) and Corb Lund & The Hurtin’ Albertans (country).

Our fave: Delhi 2 Dublin – for when you need to dance and can’t decide if you’re prefer an irish reel, north indian beats or reggae:

And that, my friends, is why I’ve been recovering for the past six days.

So… what’s your favourite festival?

poo poo on the emo

I’ve changed the theme again (of this blog. My life theme remains the same as it was a week ago: “Crap, it’s ringing… where’d I put my phone?”). I’m revolving colors and layouts, but nothing is really me so I’ll just keep changing. Change itself is more me than anything static anywho – after all, this is a space for gypsy.

The city has been feeling Mother Nature’s need to redecorate in crisp, cold, white. Very vogue. The snowfall over the last two weeks measures in feet rather than inches and the city tire shops are experiencing a boom, wait lists into February to purchase winter tires. The traffic snarls at 12 km/hr and I was able to knit on a last-minute gift during the morning’s commute… while DRIVING.

As for knitting, I didn’t do nearly enough this past summer to compensate for the bone chiller that’s in the air now. I was diving through the yarn stash last night , cursing that the yarn was still yarn rather than cleverly stitched up hats and mittens and scarves and sweaters.  Diamond D brought me back a skein of wool from Amsterdam, soft squooshy and lovely colors that should already be a neck warmer cuddled under my chin… but it’s not. The lovely silk wool blend destined to become a slouchy hat to keep a cranium cozy? The ball of yarn is sitting on top of the pile, waiting patiently, receiving only the odd caress while I pass through. The 8 (12? good lord, I’ve lost count) balls of sock yarn? Nope, not socks.  Our nearly hairless dog refuses to leave the house unless absolutely necessary – I physically picked her up and threw her out the door on Saturday morning. A warm woolen sweater, she needs. 

A wee sweater for a wee bear

Instead, I’ve been knitting stuffed animal clothing. And in hindsight, the stuffed animals are already warm from being, you know, STUFFED so I should have prioritized my time more effectively. Just know that a stuffed pig and his friends will be very warm while the rest of us are made to purchase commercial accessories to keep us protected until my needles fly at a faster pace.

How are you keeping the winter chill at bay?
(Californians – I assume your answer is “by living in California”. Ah, my envy of your average seasonal temperatures is at an all time high.)

Happy Easter!

I can smell the spring in the air. It’s just under the upper range of the cold snowy surprise that landed today, but it’s there. I know it’s coming.

Mittens From Goat kinsI’ve been pining for the spring, rolling with the snowy cold punches, peering out the window waiting for the weather to clear for more than a few days at a time. When I’m not battling the elements to get to and from the new job, I’ve been sitting on the loveseat with The Dog, doing that magic that turns string into things.

I’ve knit mittens from hand dyed Redneck Farms yarn. It once kept little goats warm, but now it keeps my fingers gorgeous. I love everything about them -0 the play of colors, the rather itchy finish, the way they fit my hands perfectly.

I have finished a pair of super warm woolen anklets and one of a pair of verry happy socks. Who wouldn’t be happy when striping in such bright giddifying colors?

happy happy sock

I’ve worked three feet (the measurement, not the appendage) of a cashmerino shawl and most of a cotton Swi-ffer cover so I don’t have to use the disposable sw-iffer paper doohickeys that kill the rainforests and overall make me feel like a bad person as I throw them away.  I have a monochromatic  turtle with brown plastic eyes who’s name is Ortle and his best trick is making The Lesbian uncomfortable when she notices that he’s “staring at me again!” There’s also more Jayne hats keeping melons warm throughout western Canada, some prettier than others (if “pretty” is even an acceptable way to describe them). The Husband wears his with pride and has never been ridiculed or questioned while touring the oilfields, proving that, sure enough, folks know that a “man walks down the street in a hat like that, you know he’s not afraid of anything.”

That made me feel kinda productive listing off some of the projects I’ve compiled over the winter. I should probably point out, in case you are suddenly under the impression that I’m an amazingly prolific and effective person, that:

  • I haven’t dusted in three weeks. I can’t find The Lesbian the Lives in the Sparer Oom. The dust bunnies may have eaten her while she was recuperating from a car accident. She’s recovered now, or at least she was last I saw her before the dust kidnapped her.
  • I haven’t filed all the crap that keeps arriving in the mail. Or the important stuff like my tax papers. I’ve long ago cashed my income tax refund but the tax papers are still sitting precariously by the front entrance, waiting to fall into a gust of wind next time the door opens.
  • I haven’t made anything in my pottery class. I’m too busy trying to figure out how the instructor makes the things he does so that I’m not actually successfully turning out much product. I should quit with the learning and start with the making. Or just accept the learning and abandon the making. Such a creative conundrum it is.
  • I haven’t figured out how to keep the kitchen table from collecting miscellaneous crap. The coffee table is more pile than table with various yarns, crochet hooks, knitting needles, vitamins and assorted dog stuff. I think that I can still save the kitchen table. Pray for us.
  • I haven’t sewn the curtains for our new travel trailer / camper / Love Shack. If I don’t get to it, we’ll have the local wildlife staring in at us while we sleep. Creepy.
  • I still haven’t mailed important good stuff to the Bunny Lovers in Regina. Frick. It’s in a box. An open box. Somewhere in the basement. I blame The Husband.
  • I haven’t bought nor knit new dish towels or dish cloths. Due to a very late realization that The Dog likes gross things, especially gross things that involve bits of food embedded into fibre, and that the laundry room door is often left open, I have a collection of slobbery and holey cloths.
  • I haven’t yet arranged to have the interior of my car detailed. Don’t ask. It involves a winter of mud, a duck carcass and my backseat. Ew.

What have you been up to, or failed to get done, peeps?

a very starry hat

Look what I made!

It’s the Starry Hat by Kate Gilbert made for our friends’ baby due to enter the world in January.

Blue-Eyed Sista in Saskatchewan: do you think your daughter or you might like one in blue or pink? Let me know ’cause my needles are on FIRE with this pattern. ON FIRE!

Speaking of on fire, if you’re on Ravelry, hook up with me – I’m gypsyhick there too. 🙂

my pots bring all the boys to the yard

The first batch of test glazes emerged from the kiln Saturday morning. Can I get a “HELL YA!”?

HELL YA!

This is a triple glaze test on a “I was practicing pointed bowls” bowl. I wanted to see what each glaze did on top of the next and for the first time in history, it looks like I got a great result on purpose:

five pointed witchy bowl

There were other nice pieces, but I salivate when I hold this mug. As much as I hate the handle, I love this mug. The whole thing was meant for practice glazing (to check how the glaze combination broke over the handle and rim, how much it would run) so I didn’t put the effort in that I would for a “real” mug. I wish I’d put in the time, especially since it came out so freaking lovely. This glaze test is a resounding success:

 

Oh so much in love

Oh, how I love when the chemical magic in that giant brick oven goes right. I mean, I did have to trash a nasty ass bowl that had absolutely no redeeming qualities but if I get these type of results in exchange for one in the trash, I can live with that. It’ll get expensive, but I can live with that if I get such SEXY POTS!

Guess what colors are going on my next few batches of pottery, kittens?

pthalo

The sky was pthalo blue tonight. I walked out of class, took in the amazing warmth of the blue above, and stared straight up at the sky as I sauntered towards the car. Others looked at me, looked up at the sky, looked at me again with puzzled brows, and looked up again.

A hand-drawn facsimile:

look waaaaay up

(hand drawn = with Gimp)