a bunch fun stuff!


Spinning Llama fleeceProbably the highlight of me week was when my co-worker brought in a Tall Kitchen garbage bag full of half of a llama fleece for me! She had a full fleece in her closet and she offered me half of it. For free! I was so excited to get it. I reasearched a little bit and found some info on how to prepare a llama fleece. Some websites stated that they don’t have a greasy fleece, like wool does, so you don’t really have to wash it first. They do suggest combing. My boss’s friend raises llamas so I e-mailed her to ask her what to do with it and she did suggest washing it because llamas like to roll around in the dirt so the fleece can be a bit dusty. So have I done any of that? No. I couldn’t wait to wash and comb it so I just decided to start spinning some of it up. Just to see. It is a little dusty but it hasn’t been too bad. It’s so pretty though. So soft. And lovely to spin.

My first woven scarfThe other thing I did this weekend was weave my fist scarf! It really looks crappy but I don’t care. I learned a lot. So that’s good. I used Noro Silk Garden for the weft and Cascade Eco wool for the warp. I learned that the warp really needs to be tight if you want a good weave. So I will need to figure out how to make a tighter warp.

And just a few hours ago I worked on this:
Plactic bag weaving

I decided to start weaving a fabric out of plastic grocery bags. For the warp I used a hideous sock yarn from KnitPicks that I’ve had in my stash for years. It actually is turning out really nice! I’m going to sew a few of these strips together into a fabric to make a shopping bag.

On motherhood

A mother holds up her child.

Image via Wikipedia

I picked up this book today called,  “the Mommy Myth.” I’ve already devoured almost 50 pages of it! It’s really good, and it kind of confirms some of the reasons I’ve had for not having kids. Reasons I didn’t even really understand until now.

The book’s subtitle is, “The Idealization of motherhood and how it has undermined women.” I think this kind of sums it all up for me (subtitles have a way of doing that.) Idealize is the operative word there. There is this perception of motherhood out there. That a woman has to be the image of the perfect mother. And not only do they have to be the perfect mother, they also have to work full time (because how else are we to survive with a child in this economy?), look and be sexy (thin, in other words), cook, clean and generally look after the house, AND be the perfect wife. That is too much fucking pressure. I can barely keep my house clean, let alone take care of another human life. Why would I want to add the stress of a child into the chaos? Working full time is stressful enough, adding a child into that mix is absolutely insane! At least in my mind.

But there has always been this pressure from all around me to have kids. Pressure from my family and from the general culture. For example, Jennifer Aniston is a month older than me and, OMG she doesn’t have a baby! She didn’t have a baby with Brad Pit! That poor barren woman! Why hasn’t she had a baby yet? Is that a baby bump I see? Is she having a baby with John Mayer? (the fact that we even care about this shit is a whole other rant)

Such bullshit.

Would it be so horrible if she decided not to have kids? Why do we think she needs to have a child?

Why is it so important for women in our society to have children?

This book seems to ask the same questions and it talks about the way the media has idealized motherhood through the years. I’m finding it fascinating. The first part of the book gives a brief history of the Feminist movement in the 70s and how during that decade, briefly, the media embraced Feminism. I am realizing that, as a child of the 70s, this must have somehow shaped me. I am definitely a feminist and I have feminist attitudes, though I have never formally or informally studied feminist theory, ever. It must have sunk in, though.

I’ll give a more thorough review when I have finished the book. These are just some preliminary thoughts on it. Definitely enjoying the read so far!

On being a cog in the machine

Tina Weymouth playing bass guitar with Talking...

Image via Wikipedia

Did I mention that I really like Natalie Goldberg? I do. Today I read about how she has dozens of notebooks filled with crap from when she lived in Taos and felt like she had nothing to write about but she wrote anyway because somewhere under that surface ennui there is something that needs to come out. That is exactly how I feel at the moment. I feel like I am supposed to write. I’m a frustrated writer working as a librarian. I am not doing the job I feel I was put on this earth to do. But I am so out of practice that I don’t know even where to begin. So I am going to just write crap until it becomes natural. Until good stuff comes out.

So lets talk about that ennui. I feel numb on the surface. I feel like I’m just drifting through life like a ghost. I am a cog in the machine. And I don’t like it at all. I want to be doing something. Anything. Traveling. Inventing. Coming up with brilliant things to say. But I’m not doing that. I’m just a cog. I’m a nobody. Just a worker bee. A rat in a cage.

What the hell happened with my life? “how did I get here,” to quote Talking Heads. How? When I was in my early twenties I had big dreams. I had things to say. I had something inside of me that wanted to come out. I felt creative. Somewhere along the way that feeling was deadened inside of me. I’m 40 now and I have become like everyone else. A working stiff. A zombie. How does this happen? How dare society take those dreams away from me! I am bitter about this.

Why have I let societal pressure decide my fate? It’s like the whole buying a house thing. I thought, for years, that I had to buy a house. My dream was to buy a house. I wasn’t a human being until I bought a house. So I bought a house. I moved away from my favorite fucking place in the whole world, moved back to a place that I loathe, so that I could buy a fucking house. And what did I learn? That a house is not the be all and end all. A house is not, by any stretch of the imagination, going to make me happy at all. And it doesn’t. In fact, it kind of causes me more pain than pleasure. It feels like a ball and chain. I don’t care about the security. I would rather not have to deal with all of the responsibility of owning a house. Now I’m stuck in Spokane because I bought my fucking house. BFD. So, yeah, that so-called “American dream” is a piece of shit. I was totally duped into that. that’s for sure.

Note from the future (9.9.2011): post goes on, venting and blathering. We’ll just delete and end it here. There. All better. 

What’s Going On

Sylvia Plath

Image via Wikipedia

Fascinating article about ghostwriting written by Scott Westerfield.

I don’t know why, but I thought this was amusing. Come to think of it, I don’t really know why I care.

This is an interesting website about an early photo of Lincoln.

You have got to be kidding me.

This is interesting.. I still need to try the Kindle Ap for my iPod. Better do it sooner rather than later.  And why didn’t they target Amazon instead, as the writer asks?


Yikes. I hope my sister is O.K. She lives in Fairbanks.

I giggled when I read this post at Fussy.org. Wow. You really need to peruse the Flylady‘s site. I’ve never seen anything like it.  There are no words.

This is really sad news about Nicholas Hughes, son of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.