How Brown Is My Sheep?

Panhandle-based Brown Sheep Co. produces yarns for high-end knitting shops.

Full Text: COPYRIGHT 2005 Omaha World-Herald
Byline: Chris Clayton

May 23--MITCHELL, Neb. -- Sometimes getting ahead of everyone else, even in a computerized world, means spending the morning on your hands and knees trying to figure out what's wrong.

The computer sensor wasn't reading the color marker, so the new-fangled Swiss labeling machine wasn't working.

"When it works, it can do the work of three people doing labels manually," said Robert Wells, vice president of Brown Sheep Co., south of Mitchell.

Beyond minor problems with new technology, Brown Sheep Co. is on a business high. The world might have iPods, BlackBerrys, cell phones with video games and plasma televisions, but one of humanity's earliest civilized skills knitting is trendy again. And any knitter worth her or his needles wants Brown Sheep yarn.

Yarns from the company mill are sold in about 2,000 high-end knitting shops nationwide, including a handful of stores in Omaha. At least 400 stores are on a waiting list.

With a wide array of yarn thickness, color and styles, Brown Sheep Co. is the largest producer of natural fiber yarns in the United States.

Brown Sheep Co. came to be just west of Scottsbluff because the family patriarch, Harlan Brown, who raised sheep for more than 30 years, grew tired of watching the ups and downs of the wool market. He decided 25 years ago to add value to the operation by manufacturing yarn.

The company now employs 40 full-time and six part-time workers.

About six years ago, Brown's daughter and son-in-law, Peggy Jo and Robert Wells, moved from Colorado to work in the mill after careers in the medical field.

Brown Sheep Co.'s focus on knitting yarns has provided steady growth in an era of continued decline for U.S.-produced textiles. As traditional textile mills in the Southeast close, sales growth for Brown Sheep over the past three years has exceeded 20 percent, company officials said.

And lately, Robert Wells said, "we've noticed the demand has been high year round."

In Omaha's Countryside Village, String of Purls got on the customer list about six months before the company stopped taking new shops. Robyn Hubbard, one of the store co-owners, said she and the other owners wanted to sell U.S.-produced yarn.

"A lot of people come in and ask if we have any local yarn and we tell them about Brown Sheep," Hubbard said.

Joe Wynn, manager of Personal Threads, 8025 West Dodge Road, said the store stocks a small amount of yarn from Brown Sheep Co. but has eight specialty orders waiting for customers. Personal Threads plans to expand into a bigger space, and Wynn said he hopes to stock more products from the Mitchell company.

Another shop, Touché at 6053 Maple St., has stocked most Brown Sheep colors and weights since the store opened in the Benson area three years ago, owner Glenda Stone said.

Although considered a high-end yarn, Brown Sheep Co. products are priced reasonably for all-natural fibers, she said.

"I wouldn't say they are high priced, no," Stone said. "You can definitely get higher prices from other companies."

Retail prices for 245 yards of thin, lightweight yarn can start at about $3.95, the same as for a Peruvian competitor product that offers less overall yarn. Much heavier yarn weights can run $20 or more.

Discount chains and craft shops may sell yarn at comparable and lower prices, Stone said, but they often have synthetic materials. The synthetics may make the product easier to wash, but take away from the "heirloom" nature of the homeknitted product and don't have the same texture, she said.

"There is a quality difference, and you can feel it," Stone said. "You can see it. If you are going to spend the time working on an heirloom sweater or other item, you also are going to take the time to hand wash it and care for it to preserve it as well."

Knitting is trendy again after a generation of downturn. According to the Craft Yarn Council of America, knitting has increased 150 percent over the past two years among young adults, though participation is up in almost all age groups with 1.4 million new knitters added last year.

"Knitting now is on an incredible increase," said Peggy Jo Wells. "The most exciting thing now about the new knitters is they are 35 and younger."

The knitting bug even has hit college campuses, where groups of students gather to knit.

"It's a return of the old quilting bee concept," she said. "It's a way to unwind and a way to deal with today's stress."

She also attributes the rise in knitting to the "hurry-up and wait" pace of society. Knitting can fill idle time, and it's easy for people to carry knitting bags, she said.

Brown Sheep Co., gets its wool from producers in mostly Western states, including Nebraska, Colorado and Wyoming. The company also imports from countries such as Chile.

Wool then is shipped to one of the few remaining mills in South Carolina, which cleans and prepares it before sending it back to Nebraska to be put on the spinners, dyed, packaged and shipped to customers.

The company stocks various yarns in blends using wool, mohair, cotton and silk. Yarn with a mohair component is particularly desirable, because it has a special texture that knitters like. Most mohair comes from goat ranches in Texas, which are declining in number, the Wellses said.

Brown Sheep Co. is banking on the growth of knitting to be more than just a short-term fad. The company has invested millions of dollars in new machinery, making it one of the few remaining U.S. textile companies to expand production.

Two of the biggest improvements were in drying and spinning capacity. The company's old drying machine dried 900 pounds of yarn over 24 hours. A new dryer handles 1,600 pounds in eight hours. New spinning machines, meanwhile, twine yarn twice as fast as older models.

Almost all the new equipment comes from overseas, including Turkey, Italy, Spain and Switzerland. Distributors and repairmen are often far away, which can be a problem when, for example, a new Swiss labeling machine isn't functioning.

Brown Sheep is the first company to use the machine for its retail yarn labels.

"Somebody had to be the first, and we were the ones," Robert Wells said.

The Mitchell company has captured its share of the new knitters but doesn't plan to change its marketing practices. Its products are sold exclusively by high-end knitting shops, not general craft stores or large discount chains.

"Our desire is to stay in the high-end yarn shops that provide the services with the yarn," Peggy Wells said.

Robert Wells said he has received e-mails from people in Germany who have used his yarn, but he doesn't know how they got it. The company, which has decided not to sell yarn on the Internet, will sell directly to customers in Great Britain and Australia.

"We don't want to undercut the shops," Robert Wells said. "There's pressure to do that sell directly but we don't want to do that."

Knitting Web sites promote Brown Sheep Co.'s mill and small adjoining retail shop as being worth the effort to veer off Interstate 80. The store can't keep in stock such products as hand-painted yarns with color flaws, called "seconds," that sell for $24 a pound, Peggy Wells said.

"We have built up quite a reputation for people coming to the mill. We have people come all the way from Omaha to shop here."

Last summer, Brown Sheep Co. froze its client list because increasing demand threatened to overwhelm the company.

"We won't take on any new account until we can service the accounts we have," Peggy Wells said.

Copyright (c) 2005, Omaha World-Herald, Neb.

Unfinished Bidness.

This is to clear up a matter discussed at Sunday's Montreal Knitting Thang. Please pay particular attention to the paragraph detailing the Scottish "pervert who attempted to have sex with a frozen chicken..."

Next, I've posted a photo of my grandmother, grandfather, and family pooch, who looks suspiciously like Nadine's dog, as seen in her blog. (Although, my dog and grandparents are no longer on this earthly plane, I'm fairly certain that the two are not the same dog--note the date on the photo). They might, however distantly, be related. Then again, maybe not. Whatever.

Finally, my work continues on one of my eventual Dropped Stitch Shawls which I'm doing in Stacy Charles Ritratto, as per the pattern (for a change). I arranged it in a casual pose on the piano, because I'm tired using the floor as a backdrop. Check it:
As you can see, I have a long way to knit, but hey--no hurries, no worries. I'll finish it when I finish it. But now, I'll close with a photo that has been making the e-mail/dirty joke rounds for some time. For some strange reason, whenever I see it, I fall out in uncontrollable fits of laughter. Perhaps the reason is that I get off on a irreverent, tasteless humor that ridicules public figures whom I don't particularly like. This one fits those categories quite nicely, doesn't it?
Meanwhile, everybody stay real. I'll post more when the spirit moves me. Ciao.

Neil Young is a Fucking Genius.

The more I listen, the more I hear. For real. He's so amazing. Can't sing on key to save his life, but hey--that's not really why I'm posting. The headline is mostly an attention getting device. Although, I do believe Neil is a Fucking Genius, (man).

First of all, I'm sick-to-fucking death of hearing about Terrell Owens and whatever he feels like doing to get more jack. I don't give a shit about the Eagles (Philadelphia, not the group), and furthermore, Donovan McNabb is kind of horse-faced, if you ask me. And frankly, I don't care if you do or not.

While I'm on a rant, can somebody please do something about all the crosswalk lights that have burnt out in this town? How am I supposed to know precisely when to jaywalk without them? That needs to be taken care of, pronto.

(There isn't really a point to this post, it's largely a reflection of the PMS from which I currently suffer.)

I think it's time for my meds. I gotta go now.

Why did I attempt this while Mercury is in retrograde?

It's true--I should have known better. But I felt the need for a little sprucing up in a graphic way. As usually, my timing suck'd, so I've decided to return to the former 'generic' version of this blog until I can get the code straight enough to display my new, punchier banner.

Meanwhile, here are a few photos of some of my many, many, WIPs. I've decided if I can't get my eyes to focus, why should anything else about me follow suit?

Dig:

Big Ass Baby Blanket (made with huge needles)

Either a Capelet or Shawl (I haven't decided yet)

The Trinity Shawl (in hemp, naturally)

Cleo (from Knitty.com)

Drop-Stitch Shawl with Knit-PicksYarn (in Prairie)

Some kind of tank
made with 100% cotton yarn
graciously donated by Mona

Don't You Hate It When...

You try to update your site, and in the meantime blow everthing else on there straight to hell? I know I do. If you're attempting to leave a comment, or look at something that is in the archives--but can't; please accept my apologies, because I inadvertantly jacked things up, earlier this week.

Hopefully things will work the way I want them to in the very near future.

Thank you, and holla!

You might call it corny...

Over the weekend, I found out that one of the preeminent musical influences of my youth died. While he will be dearly missed, his broad smile and virtuosity will stay with me always. In his youth, he was invited to sit in with one Mr. Lawrence Welk, the Champagne Music Maker himself, and amazed everyone there so much, that he was offered a job with the band, right there and then. (He played a killer-version of "Lady of Spain" which forever changed the repertoire of bar-mitzvahs all over North America). There will never be another one like Myron Floren--but as a tribute, this guy in Minnesota made a portrait of him, entirely from corn. That's right--corn. Click on the photo to read more.

Adios, Myron...We Adore You.

Strange but true...the beat goes on.

Mike the Headless Chicken

This is a highly inspirational story of a chicken that refused to die. It's also a story about a bunch of people living near Grand Junction, Colorado, with precious little to do in the springtime. To learn more, follow the link.

So lovely (and amazing).

Just when you thought I'd given up posting anything at all about knitting, I offer to you this masterpiece, created by Molly Ann, member of Montreal Knits, and Knitter Extraordinaire. This was so fabulous, I had to take a picture of both the shawl and the yarn used to create it.

I harbor no illusions that I will be able to ever, in my lifetime, create anything this intricate. But for those of you who can, and do--the yarn is AHS Slub Kasuri, from Ami-Ami in Color No. A-35.

N.B.: For those of you wondering about the outcome of my visit to the opthamologst Monday, don't ask. The news was not what I wanted to hear. Or see. Even in a fuzzy sense. And believe me, it was extremely fuzzy. The long and short of it is, there's a occular CT scan in my future. And yet another medical professional has taken my Naturally Enormous Eyeballs as a sign of underlying thyroid disease. Wonderful. (Don't hate me because my gland is bigger than yours...)

For the Do-It-Yourselfer In You

Self Portrait
2005

Made it here. Enjoy!

It seemed like a good idea at the time...

Another craft idea gone horribly wrong.

One day I'm channel surfing and I come across this craft show on cable, and this lady is demonstrating how to make a "memory box" for Alzheimer patients using one of those cardboard boxes, copies of old photos of loved ones, and attaching them by means of découpage...

I found that idea to be incredibly cheesy, no matter how severe one's dementia.

So I decided to combine cheesy with tacky, then add a pinch of vulgarity. The result? A toilet seat with découpaged photos of family members, which I planned to award to some unsuspecting relative at our next family reunion.

Word of my creation got out, and I got deluged with requests to "please-baby-please, make sure you put my picture on the lid and not the seat!!!"

The whole thing got incredibly complex, and I never actually got around to finishing The Familial Throne. ...Tender mercies, indeed. Anyway, there are, no doubt, any number of disturbing ideas bouncing about in my disturbed little mind, and hopefully, I'll keep procrastinating long enough not to get any of them started. (We can all hope, anyway).

That's all for now. Bye.

Something useful (for a change).

Some people love the Ikea experience. Others of us love the Ikea experience, but compliment it with a mindless excusion through Dollarama. Here's a little secret: I'm one of those people. And I managed to create some very useful knitting markers with materials purchased at one of the junkiest retailers on earth. Most of the materials, anyway--the small-sized rings and little metal pieces actually came from some LYS and Zellers, yet another junky-assed store). The pliers and snipper thingy went for one dollar each, while I saw the identical items sold as a group at Hobby Lobby in the States for some insane price like $13 USD. Talk about profiteering--that's scandalous!!

My Instruments

The little metallic dealies attached to the rings are in actuality, wine glass charms. I didn't want you to think I'm some kind of lush because there seems to be this weird alcohol motif running through my tiny creations. The unexpected bonus comes from the bunch o' grapes design, as it sort of looks like the continent of Africa if you flip it over.

(Kind of...vaguely...'exactly' if you've been drinking hard).

Those who know me, know that I frequently knit with Enourmous Needles, because my vision sucks to fullest. I had problems finding yarn markers huge enough to fit, but found yet another solution courtesy of the Health & Beauty aisle at Dollarama. They came in a package of those tacky plastic bangle bracelets that the kids use to make themselves look even more slutty than they already do.

So please, don't say I never offered you any useful tips. M-Diddy would never lower herself to shop at Dollarama, Zellers, (or Ikea, for that matter), and therefore would never have come up with such a practical idea. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less. So, revel in my indifference, and embrace your inner cheapskate. And if you are hung-up that way, just lie if anyone asks where you got those magnificent place markers.

Now, That's Gross (The Saga Continues)

If you're eating, you so don't want to see the other end of this link. It's extraordinarily horrible. At the last Montreal Knits gathering, we were discussing feet (don't ask), and how most people don't really like the look of their own. Either that, or their simply indifferent. This photo shows the atrocity that is Katie Holmes' feet copied from that bastion of reliable journalism, Star Magazine. (The following visual provides an example of footwear to be avoided):

"These boots are made for hobblin' "

My beloved grandmother died at age 90, after having been an insulin-dependent diabetic for 21 years--even her feet never looked that vile. You think Ms. Holmes could get a toe transplant or something? Those gnarled stumps are really beyond the pale. Then again, human nature being what it is, you know you want to look...so go ahead.

But don't say I didn't warn you.

Who Knew? (Reprise of the sequel).

I've been doing a lot of shrugs this summer because I hate the look of my upper arms, and don't feel they're appropriate for public display. On the other hand, I don't love being a sweaty mess while out and about, so shrugs with camisoles make for a suitable compromise. This one is adapted from the Interweave Knits Staff Shrug project (the Minimalist Ribbon Shrug, in particular).

The stitch is one I know well, having used it to make inumerable dishcloths. It can be reproduced by casting on an odd number of stitches, then garter stitching three rows. The fourth row is made by beginning the row K1. Next, K2tog, YO, and repeat until the last two remaining stitches, which are K2. Then you start over agan with the three rows of garter stitch, etc. Extremely simple, and the holes allow for rapid completion. Gotta love it.

the obligatory close-up.

This model displays the actual Minimalist Ribbon Shrug, as intended by its creator, Susan Sternlieb. It was made with Berocco Lullaby in Rockabye Blue, which is surprisingly soft, light, and airy. While I'm not always big on varigated yarn, this color palette goes nicely with jeans.

As always, I'm still working on a number of other projects, but am entirely too lazy to fish them out, set them up, and photograph them. So this is all you get (for now).

...Okay, bye.

Surely this can't be good.

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com

If you're not part of the solution...

...then you're not much different from the rest of us.
Dig it:

Thank you.

...Update...Update...Update...

Before & After...?

Susan's bag has been located! Best of all, none of the contents were damaged, and all the yarn (plus incidentals) were intact. The delivery was made before noon today, at her home in Ft. Worth.

Now everyone can breathe a sigh of relief, and anticipate future photos of the many creations which will result from her purchases.

Okay, I'm out. Ciao for now...

The fun never ends for Susan...

Susan, my childhood friend visiting from Texas, returned home yesterday, athough only one of her bags made it with her. Murphy's Law being what it is, the one with her considerable yarn stash (see photo), is somewhere between Philly and DFW. I hope that her stuff shows up soon, because there'll be hell to pay if it doesn't.

To further enhance her travel experience, she reported to me last evening, that her flight from Philly to DFW was crammed with kids who must have been attendees of an ADHD Convention. The fact that the 737 was stuck at the gate for over an hour (waiting for a push back, because the first truck broke, and they were supposedly waiting for baggage to arrive), added that much more to the ordeal.

The good news is, her psycho-kitty, Noriko was very happy to have her home. And so was her husband, Steve.

Check out his work on their website, "2 Geeks And A Cat" which showcases Steve's work (he even created the site), and includes bio's for the whole fam damily. Some of the info is a little outdated, but hey...they've been really busy the last few years. Really busy. (Don't ask. I get tired just explaining it!)

More news as it develops...

Yarn tripping to Vermont

The nice people at Kaleidoscope Yarns
pose with Susan (in the purple shirt).

Susan, my childhood friend who is visiting from Texas, had the brilliant idea to rent a vehicle, and take a day trip to Vermont, where we could buy even more yarn, as if we don't already have enough. We hit La Bobineuse on Monday, and Mouliné on the previous Friday, so movement in the living room was already rather restricted. Since there was still a tiny bit of space on the floor in the w.c. we decided to cross the border to get even more yarn. It was a delightful experience, and included a ferry ride, a scenic trip through the Lake Champlain Islands, and many many clams in Burlington. Susan said she greatly enjoyed herself on the trip. I greatly enjoyed the clams (as well as the mussels, scallops, crab, and everything else I consumed). Once we returned Chez Moi, we did more knitting. Although we dedicated Susan's visit to 'The Bunnies' (remind me to tell you all about that one), it seems we spent a lot of time eating and knitting, albeit not simultaneously...

My stash from Vermont.

View from the ferry
(featuring some guy on a bike).

My Tag Is Showing

Musically tagged, 2nd ed. - Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Total Volume of Music on My Computer:
15GB = 3,127 songs--at this writing, anyway.

What is the last music you acquired?
"Kem II" by Kem

Song Playing Right Now:
You mean like, in my head? Alrighty then...
"My Funny Valentine" by Carmen McRae

Five Songs I Listen to A Lot: (i.e. LIKE to listen to a lot)
1. "I Got It Bad" by Nina Simone
2. "Ribbon In The Sky" by Hiroshima
3. "I'm Not Afraid To Sing The Blues" by Diane Schuur
4. "Soon As I Get Home" by Lizz Wright
5. "Moonlight in Vermont" by Sara Vaughan

Passing on to 5 people:
You realize the term "passing on" has special significance for me...however, I will endeavour to comply:

Susan (a little something for your new blog, once it's up and running)
"Madelina" (of Madelina's Madhouse fame)
Lisa (the Urban Pagan of urbanpaganknits.blogspot.com)
Kadi (because we loved that story about your nephew, the mason jar, and the bunnies)
Lisa (my dear cousin, who is still trying to learn to cast on).

More revealing insight into "La Diva Loca"...

You Were Actually Born Under:

You are solid, methodical, and you do things right the first time. Even when no one else does, you always believe in yourself. You tend to see the world in black and white, right or wrong. A good memory and eye for details means you tend to thrive at near impossible tasks. You are most compatible with a Snake or Rooster.

You Should Have Been Born Under:

Your most comfortable inside your head - and often daydream the day away. You have an artistic temperament that makes you seem creative to some, eccentric to others. You avoid conflict at all costs, and you have a difficult time with relationships. Attractive and with good manners, you tend to shine in social situations. You are most compatible with a Pig or Rabbit.

What Year Were You Born Under?

A light-hearted trip to the Dark Side.

This photo from 1965, has absolutely nothing at all to do with kntting. I just posted it because I thought it important to demonstrate to the world that I haven't always been this zaftig.

In my hand is a bottle of soap bubbles. The location is Los Angeles, California, following my first visit to Disneyland. The sausage roll atop my massive forehead was made courtesy of my mother, Shirley, The Glamour Queen.

A few weeks prior to her death, Ms. Dorothy Harris, close family friend who is, in effect, like family, gave this photo to me. She got it from her sister Olga, who had kept it all these years. (Olga passed away about a year and a half before Dorothy, so we got an opportunity to go through her old photos from the 'Roarin' Twenties.' )

During my recent Kansas Death Tour 2005, we visited and laid flowers at the graves of Olga, Dorothy, and the rest of her family. Nobody is left to do it for them, and since they've always been so generous to us through the years, we were happy to do it for them. While tending to their family plot, we learned a lot from the old timers who were at the Frankfort Cemetery to aid people like us, who needed assistance finding a grave, or a public washroom, etc.

One man of le troisième âge even remembered Dorothy and Olga's brother, Otis because his name was Otis, too. Another recalled Chet, the patriarch of the Harris family, helping out on his father's farm when the thresh machine broke down. (Chet was somewhat before my time, so I never had the pleasure). My favorite story was about my Great-Great Uncle Eddie, who was a bootlegger during prohibition. I remember him, because he would drive up to Omaha to visit his sister (my Great-Grandmother Anna) in his shiny red Cadillac convertible. (I always called it the Batmobile because of its immense tail fins). He would always bring rolls of Kennedy half-dollars directly from the mint, because he knew I had a coin collection. Uncle Eddie always reminded me of a black Leon Redbone. And he was the best whistler I ever heard in my whole life.

There are other bits and pieces stored in my memory, about friends and relatives who have been long gone from this earthy plane. More on our recent travels from the Kansas Death Tour 2005, (in which we covered six cemeteries in two days) will be posted once I get it all together . And that could take some time, so I thank you in advance for your patience.

I'd like to call out...

...that rude megabitch working for the TSA at Eppley Airfield who felt me up under the guise of 'security' prior to my flight Thursday. As if the entire farce that is the Transportation Security Administration and the insane number of hoops you demand of the travelling public aren't a big enough hassle for innocent people who just want to get on the fucking plane and sleep until it lands, the brutal attitude with which you addressed me leads me to believe you acquired your people skills from the DMV.

You, Ms. McCarty (Iinspector No. 76357), can kiss my ample, hail-damaged ass.

And I mean that in total sincerity.

Introducing Naya!

Naya's reaction to me was similar to that which I
elicit from most people upon first meeting.
It's alright...I'm used to it.

Yet another reason why I'm rarely asked to baby sit.

Good thing I didn't make another blanket!

In case you were wondering, no babies were permanently traumatized in the shooting of these photos. As for me, I'm not so sure. But Naya didn't seem too frightened by Pasha the Penguin, even if I scared the living bejezus out of her!

And for what it's worth, I was the only person to knit a worm and a penguin. So there.

A Very Important Matter

This link leads to a very important story and a very important cause. I recently lost my cousin Milton to metastatic cancer, and it's touched my immediate family twice. Suffice it to say, I support Julie Demole's efforts toward this cause, and encourage you to do the same.

But wait, there's more!

Véronik Avery, Knitting Designer of Note and All-Around Great Person has offered additional incentive for those making a contribution to the cause. Read about it here: Montreal Knits

So Happy To Be Here, Etc. Part II

My time here in "The Land That Time Forgot" is drawing to a close. (Well, in a few days, anyway). I managed to hit three of my favored LYS during my stay, and am happy to report that one of them has begun to carry Lorna's Laces. Of course, I didn't buy any, but I spent a little too much time feeling them up. (They're just so sensuous, doncha think?) I did purchase a lot of Katia Alba (no relation to Jessica), for a "thing" I'm creating to camouflage my middle-aged triceps, as well as some additional bamboo needles for the slipperier fibers I'll be working with. If nothing else, they'll make great holders for brochettes (believe it or not, all of them were smaller than Size 5-1/2mm). And hey--I can't wait until I get some new specs so I can actually see what the hell I'm doing! Quél fun!

Glenda of Touché phoned to say my long-awaited order of Lamb's Pride Bulky in Aubergine had arrived. Since I'm not known for my speed, the timing coincides nicely with my beginning some Christmas projects I'd like to felt. In fact, several more family members have come begging--I mean 'requesting' that I make them Bigass Felted Tote like the one I made for Mother, so I should probably get started on those. Glenda told me that she is quite knowledgeable with Véronik's work and is someone she'd like to meet one day. Unless she gets abducted by a rogue band of seed-cap wearing locals and dragged here by force, I don't think Véronik has any plans to do a Tour of the (Diseased and Enlarged) Heartland. Perhaps Glenda will make a visit North someday. If so, I invite her to crash at my place, as long as she doesn't mind sleeping in the same room with Fidel. He doesn't snore, but he does drink all night. Yet another example of his boorish behavior. But what's a mother to do?

My Kansas Death Tour 2005 was big fun, and was surprisingly delightful. I must get around to sharing the details with you very, very soon. I'd do it now, but it was such a good time, I have no idea where to start! As a preview of things to come, note that it included a midnight trip to IHOP, several games of UNO for Cheaters, friendly farmer ghosts with maps, soggy Chuck Taylors, visits to six cemeteries in two days, and surprisingly nice scenery (for Kansas) . Who knew?!

Gotta go now. A tornado watch has just been issued, and I have flowers to be planted before the swirling starts...

Easy Riders.

I like the idea behind this, but past experience in cycling tours tells me that more than a few people will be saddle sore at the end. (You feelin' me?)

Don't answer that. It was merely hypothetical.

More to follow...

So Happy To Be Here, Etc. Part I

Yesterday, I ran the gauntlet that is present-day air travel.

The fates smiled upon me because US Customs & Immigration let me pass thru unscathed--until the ninny at Station No. 4 called me Dewanna. (That's a new one to add to my extensive list of mispronounciations).

My flight to Cincinnati was uneventful, save for the nice man seated next to me who smelled like his colostomy bag needed attention--(although I'm not sure he had a colostomy bag). Granted, I wasn't exactly "fresh as a daisy" my own damn self, but this guy had his true Manly-Man-Musk working overtime. Plus, I think he smokes cigars when he's outside the clutches of the dreaded tobacco police. Aside from me having to breathe down my shirt for an hour and a half, the first leg was almost pleasureable.

Cincinnati has an interesting system of gates in Terminal C. Interesting enough to confuse the hell out of a semi-weary traveller whos olfactory system has been assaulted continuously for the last 90 minutes. Despite the ever-thickening haze occluding my brain cells, I managed to make it onto the correct plane. And the guy sitting next to me this time didn't stink, which was a relief in a serious way. Turned out he was from Arkansas, which means he was what us disgruntled travellers call a talker. It turned out alright, all considered, as he too hated Omaha with a passion. What's more, he was going there to appease relatives he didn't really want to be around. As if we didn't have enough in common, the topic of conversation inevitably turned to drugs, i.e. which ones to take to endure the high-drama which is de rigeur around blood relatives.

I'll close by giving him a shout out (only I didn't get his name). But I just want to thank him for offering me some of his Vicodin. It restored my faith in humanity. And needless to say, it warms my heart to meet someone who actually gives a damn.

It's just so beautiful.

"This bear is perverse, dominatrix and hardcore."

Or so says the Teddy Bear Art Project's director.

It's currently being held in Zurich. Regrettably, this dominatrix bear was refused entry into the Teddy Bear Parade. No doubt this will make the dominatrix bear very, very angry.

Read all about it here...or be prepared to suffer the consequences.

Close Encounters of the Knitted Kind

Fidel's Love Approach

My Victoria Day weekend was spent finishing up several knitting projects. Among them, Pasha the Penguin, from knitty.com. I figured it'd make a nice gift for my newest cousin, Naya, born April 20th. In the hope that this attempt would be a bit more successful than "The Funky Worm," I decided to adhere to the pattern a bit more closely. So naturally, something else had to go awry, and this time it was a slight enlargement of the beak. Although this was purely unintentional, I actually prefer a bigger beak. But hey; that's just me.

I decided to test the finished product by introducing Pasha to Fidel, my studly male boar. As you can see from the photos, Fidel wasted no time getting up in Pasha's face. I knew what was coming next--the sniffing. And sure enough, sniffing quickly turned into nibbling. Next thing I knew, Fidel had Pasha flat on his back, and was attempting to mount him, for purposes of eating his face off.

My quick thinking was the only thing that saved Pasha from further humiliation as the object of Fidel's rather boorish advances*. But before the serious carnage began, I got some great shots. (By the way, Fidel is the one on the left).

After a quick spritz with Lysol, Pasha was none the worse for wear, and safe to present to Baby Naya. (And even if she's not into penguins, she shares her home with a dog, cat, and two parents, who might find him more interesting). After that encounter with Fidel, I think he'd enjoy a little indifference, for the time being.

* Yes, I meant to do that, and no, I'm not sorry. So there. Deal.

So lovely.

I think it's very pretty. Of course, I didn't make it--but it's nice.

A lady named Mary from Lincoln, (and I don't mean the wife of the dead president), made it, then gave it to me. She often gave me things. Mary was a lady who lived in a senior's residence with my beloved Aunt Agnes. Whenever I'd visit Aunt Agnes, Mary would come for a visit, because she took a liking to me. We'd tell dirty jokes, eat cake, knit stuff, and generally speaking, kick it. Those days were fun, but they're long gone. Aunt Agnes and Mary have passed onto another plane, so our 'visits' are of a more metaphysical nature. At any rate, I like to believe they inspire me through their 'spiritual presence,' so to speak.

It's doubtful that I'll ever master anything this ornate, but it's a nice reminder of good ol' folks from the good ol' days.

By popular demand...

New! From Jolene Roxbury:

Please note: This link does not mean I condone
the use of this product--er, concoction.
Therefore, I am not responsible for any strange
side effects or injuries resulting from its use.
So don't even go there.
Thank you.

Just showin' the love.

Lee Ann...This One's For You!

Now this is deep...

You scored as Utilitarianism. Your life is guided by the principles of Utilitarianism: You seek the greatest good for the greatest number. “The said truth is that it is the greatest happiness of the greatest number that is the measure of right and wrong.” --Jeremy Bentham “Whenever the general disposition of the people is such, that each individual regards those only of his interests which are selfish, and does not dwell on, or concern himself for, his share of the general interest, in such a state of things, good government is impossible.” --John Stuart Mill Utilitarianism 75% Hedonism 65% Existentialism 60% Kantianism 55% Justice (Fairness) 40% Nihilism 30% Apathy 25% Strong Egoism 20% Divine Command 20% What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03) created with QuizFarm.com

A Mess In Progress

It's supposed to be a capelet, after a kajillion more rows.

I'm still working on it, but it's not the easiest thing to handle. Next time I get a bright idea to make something this...unwieldy, somebody stop me before attempt this again. Thank you.

Jamaica mistake?

No, I meant to do this. And yes, I finally completed the Jamaica Bag, and have even had a chance to break it in on a grocery shopping trip last evening. Nothing was broken (including my shoulders), so I deem it worthy to give to my dear friend Hope in Mississauga, once I Febreeze it real good and brush off the cookie crumbs (please, don't ask).

Sorry about the pukey green background, but the weather sucks right about now, and I wasn't hyped for anything brighter. What's more, when I went to PJC last night, they were completely out of Wine Gums, and I was greatly disappointed. At least once each week, I need to eat candy that has the potential of ripping out my mercury-laden fillings. And I'm getting damn tired of Nibs.

Oh well...

Presenting: The Human Hippity-Hop.

This is extraordinary, and that's just from looking. Can you imagine dragging...I mean, uh...wow. That's all I can say. Wow.

P.S. In the event you're too young (or forgetful) to recall, this is a Hippity-Hop. Resemblance is striking, isn't it?

P.P.S. Sorry about that. No really. I couldn't resist.

Still smokin' baby...

Nothing makes me laugh uncontrollably like bad grammar, poor spelling, and insulting comments. Why not follow this link and have a few chuckles for yourself!

Leftovers again?

This is what I chose to do with some leftover yarn that was taking space and ruining the feng shui up in here. Motivated by the 70's hit "Funky Worm", I modified the design found in a back issue of "Spun" magazine. Sure, mine doesn't look like the one displayed with the pattern, but I was fresh out of googly eyeballs. That, and it's going to a baby, and I don't want her eating its eyes off, or anything. Subconsciously, I was inspired by three elements in this piece--Dizzy Gillespie, radioactive poisoning, and a bad drawing of the human colon. Or maybe it's unconsciously. Whatever...

As if this weren't already apparent...

You appear to be a Knitting Adventurer.
You are through those knitting growing pains and
feeling more adventurous. You can follow a
standard pattern if it's not too complicated
and know where to go to get help. Maybe you've
started to experiment with different fibers and
you might be eyeing a book with a cool
technique you've never tried. Perhaps you
prefer to stick to other people's patterns but
you are trying to challenge yourself more.
Regardless of your preference, you are
continually trying to grow as a knitter, and as
well you should since your non-knitting friends
are probably dropping some serious hints, these
days.

What Kind of Knitter Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

The Graves Family Orchestra, Circa 1923.

This photo is simply fabulous. I say that because it is, and because Grandma is in it (on baby grand). My Great-Uncle Earle is wailing on alto (the guy behind the cellist), and my Great-Grandfather Walter is the stern looking dude on cello. Since they're musicians, it's possible they're on more than that, but I refuse to speculate). The cat on skins is Charlie Bowman. I knew him only briefly, as he died when I was eight. I have no clue who is playing tenor sax, but he looks to be a damn sight happier than Grandpa Walter. I wonder if the reason he looks so hard-core has something to do with him playing cello in a jazz group... Actually, I heard some Old Family Stories about life in Hiawatha, Kansas, 1923. No doubt they contributed to his stress level, and untimely death at 53 years of age...

At any rate, I was asked to scan this ancient photo (in which everyone is now deceased) for the Preston Love Jazz Museum & Cultural Center in Omaha, Nebraska. My Uncle Earle was a most prominent musician, back in the day, and he continued his musical career by leading an orchestra that played everything from swing to polka! (It was the midwest, you dig). His group even had a contortionist. Now, That's Entertainment.

One of the reasons I posted this photo is because it's just so damn cool. Another reason is to prove to people that there are in fact, short people who were related to me. Sure, you can't tell that they're short from this old photo, but aside from Abraham Lincoln, can you even name 15 tall people from way-back-when? That's what I thought. The final reason (for now, anyway) I posted this, is to demonstrate that The Partridge Family wasn't the first group to travel around playing gigs wearing strange clothing. Grandma was all of 15 years old in this shot, and even played for silent movies in Hiawatha. As for her shoes, hey--I know I'm loving 'em. I must have a veritable shitload of granny boots myself. (We have more in common beside appearance and musical talent--I do believe I inherited her podiatric issues, as well.)

Grandma died in 1998, as did Uncle Earle in 1977. But thanks to the as-yet unknown curator of the Preston Love Jazz Museum & Cultural Center, and the internet, they will not be forgotten. Hopefully, some of the little snots coming up will pay a visit, and give their props to those deserving. However, if they don't, it's all good. Because you saw it here first!

P.S. Isn't it 'deep' that Grandma's maiden name was 'Graves' and she ended up marrying an undertaker?

P.P.S. At least, I think it is. And if you know what's good for you, you will too. I'm enduring killer PMS these days, and don't feel like reading any crap. So just go along with things, until I give the all clear. Thank you.

Don't hate, appreciate.

I did this, because it was on Lee Ann's amazing new blog...

The truth is, the older I get, the cooler I get.
I can't help it.
It's just who I am.
(Can ya dig it?)

This is just a damn shame...

I got no comment, other than keep these freaks away from your kids.

You've been warned.