Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Handspun Yarn and Peter Parker's Assistant

I've finally finished another spinning project. I spun it from a braid of roving by Sweet Georgia Yarns, a superwash merino (translation: combed fluffly fleece that has been treated not to felt in the wash). I loved how it looked as I was prepping it for spinning.

I think it ended up being a hank of approximately 275 yards in fingering weight, which I figured out by counting the number of strands while I had it stretched out... I'd go into the math, but I suspect that's not really important here (even though I thought I was quite clever to figure it out).

When you knit in public, it is said that you are "KIPing." I suppose that, when you are spinning in public, you are then "SIPing." And when you SIP, you usually get the following questions:
  • What are you doing?
  • Is that enough to make a sweater?
  • Why are you doing that?
  • Is that cheaper than buying it already spun?
And my personal favourite: Are you STILL working on that?

And you know, I actually don't mind these questions so much (well, maybe I mind that last one just a little bit), but I think that it's good to show people that things can still be done by hand, and that anyone can do it. And I really don't mind letting other people have a try on my spindle, since most are really careful and they don't want to wreck my work, which is pretty much impossible.

This whole spinning thing is not easy, though, at least not when you're a relative beginner like me. Sure, spinning itself is pretty easy, once you've practiced and you're diligent at churning out yarn at regular intervals. Maybe that lulled me into thinking I was a veritable spinning machine... that I could spin yarn out of air... call me Spiderwoman and get me some leotards...

But it turns out that I'm not really that clever sometimes. I certainly don't have spider senses.

When you finish spinning, you have to set the twist so that it doesn't try to untwist itself and fall apart. I do it by using a swift which I got from a friend of mine who is a former weaver. It's basically a square frame with wooden pegs in it. I wind the yarn directly from the spindle onto the outermost pegs on one side of the square so that it forms a big loop of multiple strands of yarn, which is technically called a skein. Then, I spray it with water and let it dry over night. This make the twist stay in the yarn, so that, if I take it off the pegs, the yarn won't twirl around and release the twist I put into it.

So, I'm following these steps. I've spun half the roving, and I've taken the resulting yarn and wound it around the pegs so that I can free up the spindle to spin the other half of roving. I spray it, leave it overnight, and the next day, I unwind a couple of strands and find that the twist has set to my satisfaction. Jolly good, I think. This is where you're supposed to tie the strands in a special way to keep it from tangling. Do I do this?

Of course I don't.

I take the skein off the pegs and start to twist it into a hank like the one shown in above photos, but then I stop and think, It would be better to join the rest of the yarn onto this so that I have one large hank, rather than two smaller ones. I'll just pop this loop back onto the pegs.

Easier said than done.

Three hours later, after a beer, many utterings of several curse words, and lots of untangling of my precious handspun yarn, I finally get all the yarn back onto the pegs. Whew.

Things I learned from this experience:

1) Always tie the skein like you're supposed to.
2) Untangling yarn is more difficult when your dog wants to lie on the mass of yarn on the floor.
3) You can make a bottle of beer last a long time when you have a job to do.

My boss probably wouldn't appreciate me trying that last thing out at work.

So, in all, I finished spinning the rest of the roving, and I learned some new lessons. I have ended up with a pretty hank of yarn. What'll I make with it? That's the best part. Oh, the possibilities...

It'll probably be a lace project, since that will make the best of the stiffness of the strands I've created, and probably something I'll wear over my shoulders, like a shawlette. And, as I knit it, I'll wonder if Spiderwoman could wear a shawlette whilst swinging around the city fighting crime as Peter Parker's assistant...

Nah. It just wouldn't go with the leotards.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Inspiration Mondays: A Weekend Obsession

We got back from our weekend in the mountains today. It was a lovely weekend away, and I'm very sorry to see it finish. C'est la vie, mais je souhaite qu'il n'├ętait pas (that's life, but I wish it wasn't).

Our first evening there, we went out for dinner at Murietta's Bar and Grill in Canmore. We'd passed it a number of times in our many trips there in the past, but this was the first time we ventured in. It is a pretty place, and I wish I'd taken a photo of the dining room. I was too busy enjoying my flatbread pizza!

The hostess was wearing a black outfit (as they tend to do, I guess) and over her shoulders, she was wearing a sheer black shawl. It was held closed by a pin that was decorated by a faux red rose. It was so pretty and simple that I couldn't stop thinking about it. I wouldn't mind having a pretty pin like that, I thought to myself.

After dinner, I stopped in the shop below and found some cute hair pins and fascinators with similar flowers and rosettes. I looked at them carefully, and then placed them back on the counter and left, my brain working and turning.

Back at the hotel, I picked up a pen and notepad and wrote:
  • shawl pin made of hairdresser's hair separator
  • rosettes made of fabric - old scarf?
  • glue onto felt?
I'd been thinking before this trip that I wanted another shawl pin, and seeing the examples in the shop made me think that I could make something like it at home. I just needed to find something that wouldn't catch and would hold the shawl in place, like the hair separators that hairdressers use.

We got home today and unloaded the car. Rascal ran around the yarn, making sure everything was still as he left it, hubby went and worked on a few things on the computer while I made lunch. During lunch I said, "We'll need to get some eggs. Oh, and I want to go to the dollar store..."

I struck out at the dollar store. No hair separators, but every other kind of hair pin ever created. I got back into the car and said, "I'll need to go to Walmart."

And luckily, they had the very thing I was hoping for: hair separators with no teeth that would catch on a shawl.

This evening, I spent a couple of hours trying to recreate what I was seeing in my brain. As I worked, I realized that I am often in this position: feverishly working on something new that I am trying to figure out from an image in my head. Richard J. Leider in The Power of Purpose asks:
What are you doing when you are being yourself? What is it that you're doing when you lose all track of time because you are so engaged?
This is it. I am constantly forgoing meals and other duties to work on something with my hands. I'm turning things at all angles, often swearing and muttering under my breath, thinking that I'm finished when I've only just begun...

In the end, I ended up with two pins. This one was made from an old satin scarf that I was about to give away. I'm pretty happy with this, but I might try again to make a better one. I made the rosette and sewed it onto a piece of felt, which is then gluegunned onto the hair separator.

After I finished this I remembered this Frill Tape that my friend, Yumi, brought for me from Japan. I've had it for a while, and today was the first day I pulled it out with a project in mind.

After a few trials and watching a few videos about how to knit with tape like this, I came up with this:

I'm enthralled with it, mostly because I managed to make it after I totally wrecked the one before it with one false step right at the very end.

I'm also happy to take a step forward in trying to figure out who I am when I am being myself. Self-reflection is hard for me, but it's become a study of sorts for me. I'm glad to know exactly what I'm doing when I'm just being myself.

Now that I've figured that out, I'm off to get some dinner!

Friday, April 22, 2011

Stitch Rebellion

Sometimes, you have to wonder what people are thinking when they choose needles for yarn patterns. This seems totally opposite to an earlier post in praise of designers, but hear me out on this.

I finished knitting a wrap the other night. I washed and blocked it yesterday and took it off the board this afternoon. It feels good to get it done, though I'm thinking it might be the last project I make with thicker yarns until the fall.

It's based on a free pattern by Brenda A. Lewis called Cable Knit Throw, and it's available through the Coats & Clark website. I was totally smitten by the stitch pattern, but I knew I didn't want to make a blanket of any type, so I modified it to be a wrap instead.

When I started studying the pattern, I was stopped in my tracks by the recommended needle size: size 10 (6mm) needles with worsted weight yarn. Whaaaa? Really?

I'm of the school that believes that all yarn has a gauge that works best for it, for large projects anyway. Knit loose stitches with thin yarn, and you'll get a fishing net. Knit tight stitches in super-thick yarn, and you'll have a sweater that will stand up on its own. My gut told me that I tried to make this project with size 10 needles with the Cascade 220 Heathers I planned for it, I'd end up with big, big regrets.

So, I dove into Ravelry and looked through the projects made from this pattern. All used the recommended needle size except one who decided to make it with smaller needles. That was enough to validate my rebellion: Get out my size 6 needles!

Size 6 (or 4.0mm) is my favourite needle size. Seriously. That probably sounds weird to any non-knitters out there, but there's something so perfect about those svelte 4.0mm pointy sticks. They are my go-to size for projects of most yarn weights between lace and worsted. It seems to be the needle size that is the great equalizer. A 4.0mm hole is a good hole.

I just try not to say that kind of thing out loud in public.

Anyway, it's finished, and I love it. It's pretty long, but it's not quite long enough to wrap around my ever-so-wide shoulders in an entirely flattering way. It's still long enough to drape across my back and fall down my sides, stole-style.

I don't have any pictures of me wearing it, mostly because today is the first day of a four-day weekend for me, and frankly, I'm just too sloppy and lazy to make the effort to make myself presentable. I do plan to bring it along with me for a quick trip into the mountains tomorrow, where we will stay until Monday. I plan to enjoy the views, watch for birds, go for some walks and visit a yarn store. I'm hoping I'll meet some other knitters who are of the same stitch-rebellious nature as me.

Watch out, mountains... my pointy sticks and I are on our way!

Monday, April 18, 2011

Inspiration Mondays: What's Old is New

I'm leaving in a little while here to take part in a clothing swap with some friends. We're all different sizes and shapes, but I figure that you never know what someone has been hiding in her closet that you might want to try out.

I'm usually pretty good and clearing out my wardrobe on a regular basis, so I don't have much to bring with me. Usually, my things end up at the local charity shop, and, if you read my post about my yarn basket, you'd know that I enjoy a good bargain, and that I love making "new to me" discoveries. I think it's the most fun form of recycling: making use of something that would otherwise end up in the trash.

In this spirit, I've decided that, rather than waiting until a new season to have a good clean out, I'm going to try to go through and clear things out on a regular basis. I'm getting into the habit of doing things a little at a time, thanks to an application a friend of mine introduced to me through Facebook called Mindbloom. I'm not one to load up on applications (Farmville... bleh...) but this is perfect for a person like me that easily gets stuck in her ways. So far, it's reminded me to do yoga every day, to clean one room every other day, to work on my blog and YouTube channel regularly, and to put money away regularly. Way better than looking after virtual cows, if you ask me!

The idea of trading and swapping has always been interesting to me. I love using, the online organization that helps people to trade items that are still useful that would otherwise end up in a landfill. I have to admit, I was a little addicted to it for a while. It's how I got our first microwave, our coffee table, a little side table in the living room, our ironing board, a huge body pillow (carefully cleaned), and our weedwacker, to name a few things. It's also how we got rid of our moving boxes, some candle-making supplies, and a George Foreman Grill (you gasp, but seriously, I couldn't stand the thing).

Anyway, I thought I'd have a look through my yarn to see what sort of things I've ended up with by purchasing from charity shops and through friends who are destashing. Here's what I came up with:

These sock yarn skeins were purchased through a destash on Etsy (except for the Bernat Cotton hanging out there at the back). I got them for a steal... something like $5 a skein. I did attempt to make a Multnomah shawl with some of it, but it ended up back in the basket. I have better plans for those skeins that will likely be more suitable.

This came home with me from the charity shop. Nice huh? I'm thinking it might be handspun, but it's sure purty. I'm pretty sure it's wool, but it's soft enough to make something that could be worn on my neck (I know that because I walked around the store with it tucked under my chin *grin*). I think that the pattern, 198 yards of heaven might be a perfect fit.

This is a ball of laceweight acrylic, I think. It's wound into a cake but has been squished and tumbled through my yarn basket, so it'll be a good time trying to find the end! I want to use it to make a lacy scarf called Silver Bells, that was formerly available at Knitting Fog Blog, but is now a free download on Ravelry... That is, once I find the courage to start untangling...

Not bad for a bit of hoking around someone's second hand stuff, huh? I think that it's worth having a look through the church yard sales and summer garage sales. It's only junk if it sits around doing nothing in your house, and it's only wasteful if you spend money you don't have on things you have no plans for.

The real test will be weather or not I'd be willing to part with my yarn in a true destash. I've swapped a few things here and there and... well... hrm. I guess we'll see. In some ways, having a big stash is kind of like getting new things every once in a while, because you forget you own some of those yarn balls, and it's a nice surprise when they work their way up to the surface...

Yeah... that didn't quite convince me, either. I'm working on it, ok?

Saturday, April 16, 2011

A Reverie

A poem from a younger me...

Striding through a canvas world,
Trail of ashes lead to him;
Listen to floating song,
Smiling for a day.
Hearing legends fall and rise,
Feeling breath from singer’s lips,
Weeping tears of grief
and awe
Of what cannot be real.

Sleep in sheets of porcelain,
Laugh in colours, blue and gold,
Stir the drink of confidence,
Sipping all day through.
Watch him build a picket fence,
Quiet hammer, tapping brush
Souls commune in silence
A green and yellow Sunday.

Walk by cliffs and follow close,
Knowing who has mattered minds,
Silver pools on golden land;
Trust the moon and stars.
Standing near a beating heart,
Whisper things too bold to yell,
Watch the eye that watches
Bubble reverie.

- AJ

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Deep Breaths, Loose Jaws

I walked home from work the other day. It's a good hour and a half walk if I take the scenic route, which I did. Yes, it was tiring, but not nearly as tiring as I thought it might be. It might have been made easier by the fact that I didn't really have to be home at a particular time, and by the fact that it was a pretty nice day: a tad chilly (but my Copycat Cardigan took care of that), but bright and sunny.

The first part of the walk started on the busy driveway at my place of work: lots of people driving home after a long day, some people stopping to ask me if I needed a lift. "No, no lift, thank you," I said. Then, after the driveway is a short walk along the single lane highway (I walk facing the traffic, just to be sure), and it's not long before I reach the crosswalk which brings me onto the nature path.

The walk was good exercise, not only for my body, but for my patience. I like to believe I'm a relatively patient person (heck, it takes me weeks to knit things sometimes), but I know that I'm not that patient in certain parts of my life. I want to get places. When I move, I want to get somewhere, and get there in good time. Walking an hour an a half anywhere is not that efficient, nor is it quick. It is simply walking for the sake of walking.

I rationalized the walk as I went along. We'll call this section, Stage 2: The river walk, I thought to myself as I walked along the path, the river to my right. Relax your jaws, your eyes, your ears, I said to myself, echoing the instructor on my yoga DVD. I have a tendency to clench my jaws when I'm walking on my own, thinking more about getting to the destination. You'll get there, I said. Don't damage yourself while doing so.

I met my husband and my doggie on the way, and we walked the last 20 minutes or so together. I got home, and was pleasantly surprised to feel tired, but not exhausted, and I was quite proud of myself for doing it.

Patience is worth cultivating in all areas of my life. Brian, at Brian Knits wrote a blog post about how knitting is an act of patience and persistence, and I quite agree. Perhaps this is why I am so drawn to it: I am not as patient as I could be with people, my family, and with some of the circumstances that surround me, but I feel that it's easier to be patient with my own hands, and with my own energies. This is not a recent realization, but it is certainly something that has really bubbled up to the surface for me, and I want to change. I want to be the person who, instead of wearing annoyance on my face when things aren't going according to plan, can laugh it off, shrug my shoulders, and accept that this is the way life is.

I watched a wonderful video last night on YouTube about being the person who awakens possibility in other people. (That part is near the end of the video, if you're impatient *wink*).

Who am I being that the people around me are uninspired? Can I wait and see and expect the best around me? Can I hold off with the impatience and push forward the understanding? Can I bring the patience that I practice out of my needles and into the rest of my life?

Sure I can. I think I should. I think it will be hard work, but if I can spend ninety minutes cultivating patience through one activity, then it is possible.

We had a day of wet snow today. Spring is shaking off the last of the winter storms, and we awoke to a white, soggy sheet of snow blanketing the land around us. I sighed. Then, I shook it off and realized that my irises will be peeking out even more this time next week, and that we live in an area that is usually crisp and dry and thirsty for moisture. There will be time enough for days of hot, dry sunshine. It will come.

And so will my patience. It's got to, don't you think?

Monday, April 11, 2011

Inspiration Mondays: Miraculous Green

I love spring. I looooooooooooove spring. It's the most wonderful time of the year (as opposed to Christmas and back-to-school at Staples). After a long winter of cold weather, frosty days, dark days, a bit of spring is all I need to pick me up.

I lived in Northern Ireland for a number of years. That is one green place. You want green, seriously, Ireland has got it. It has to do with all the rain they get. After being there for years, coming back to Canada was a bit of a shock, especially in the spring. Everything was grey-brown and dead-looking.

I remember one spring after a particularly dry winter, I went out into the yard with Rascal looking for a tennis ball to play with, and found a piece of plastic table cloth I'd laid on the ground by one of the flowerbeds. I'd put it there in the autumn, in the hopes that it would block that patch of ground so that I could get the grass to die out there. Well, it didn't work, but when I pulled that tablecloth off the ground to check, the grass was green beneath it.

It was a shock, like someone had injected dye into my eyes. Wow! Green! Ooooo...

Since then, the first few glimpses of green in the spring really excite me.

Those are some irises just peeking out of the ground in my front flowerbed. They're pushing through the compost and leaves I laid on them in the autumn.

I pulled out some yarn in my stash that puts me in mind of the freshness of spring, and of new growth.

Clockwise from bottom right: Elsebeth Lavold's Hempathy in Golden Yellow, Koigu Kersti Merino Crepe, and Mirasol Hacho in Sienna Olive.

Quite a lot of my stash recently are batches of yarn in small amounts, mostly because they are hand-dyed or unique, and therefore, on the pricey side. It seems fitting, though, to have a handful of these yarns this time of year... like gathering small handfuls of the growth that is slowly pushing its way through to the surface outside. Any more would be overkill right now.

This yarn makes me think back to a day in Northern Ireland when my hubby and I went down to the shore and sat for a while on the grass. It was late spring, just tipping into summer, and the grass was dotted with tiny little daisies. I turned to my hubby and said, "How do you weave daisies into a chain?" Well, he gathered up a few and wove them into a circlet, which I then placed in my hair... It was the first time I'd ever felt remotely like a fairy.

Anyway, green is a miracle, and I'm glad to see it again. I'm all for new growth, both outdoors, and within my own being. I need a bit of refreshing these days. I fear I have become stagnant with old thoughts and shabby worries. Green always brings me to lovely memories.

Of course, there a probably some terrible memories that are associated with green... things related to slime and stuff... but we won't go there...

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Garter Stitch Tabs for Triangular Shawls

Someone on my YouTube channel asked me to demonstrate this. I hope it is clear enough to see.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

It Rocks Slightly to the Right

I was wandering around town on Monday afternoon, killing between appointments with the gods that work at the bank. I'm not often in the shops in our little town, since they tend to close by the time I finish work, and I tend to prefer the comfort of home on the weekends. I always enjoy it, though, because there's always a few interesting things to look at. It's always the times when you don't really need anything when you find interesting things.

I ended up looking around the local charity secondhand store. Occasionally, I score a few balls of yarn there, usually forgotten balls of sock wool or crochet cotton. Once, I got a ball of handspun purple yarn, all wound in a cake. Another time, I got a bunch of white laceweight yarn, acrylic, I think, also wound neatly into a cake, waiting for me to do something with it (and it still is waiting, come to think of it... ahem...).

This time, I toyed with the idea of buying the little cappuccino machine there, until I remembered that I don't have a VCR to play the instructional video for it. I also thought about the lovely Corningware pot in the window, but I figured there would be another one down the road when my current Dutch oven finally bites the dust, which probably won't be for another few years. And then, I found a basket.

It was willow basket, with a few bits starting to fall off it. The price tag was $2.00. Aw, what do I need a basket for? Don't come home with junk, I thought to myself.

I walked around the corner and found a set of hair straighteners for $3.00. Hey, that'll work, I thought to myself. My eyes glanced back to the previous aisle, and I thought, Well, I'll just have another wander down here...

And well, the basket ended up being my carrying receptacle for the rest of the afternoon.

When I got it home, I gave the basket a rinse in the bathtub to wash out the cobwebs and set it out on the deck to dry in the springtime sun. I took Rascal out for a walk, and by the time I got back, it was dry.

I knew I wanted it to hold some of the yarn that is slowly taking over my house. I figured that, if it's going to be lying around, I may as well enjoy looking at it. And, besides, I had some yarn stashed behind my sewing basket that needed somewhere to live... we won't talk about how it ended up back there...

Anyway, I have no experience in lining baskets. I spent about half an hour trying to sew a lining in through the branches, but I just didn't have the patience or the skill for it. But, what I lack in skill, I make up for in persistence. I went down to the basement for my glue gun, and ended up glueing some fabric into place. I then crocheted a cord out of some white Red Heart yarn held in a double strand by making a long chain, then slip-stitching all the way back to the beginning. It's just as nice as an i-cord, but much easier for me. That cord was glued into place to hide the ugly edges between the fabric and the edge of the basket.

And, there you have it: a basket for my habit.

It was only after I filled it with some yarn that I realized that it rocks slightly to the right... but it depends on the way you look at it. I don't think you can tell from these photos.

Today, after I walked Rascal, I realized my right foot was a bit sore. I think my shoes are a bit wonky...

I guess I rock slightly to the right, too. Huh, go figure.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Mondays Can Be Inspirational - First Edition

I've decided to add a weekly feature called, "Mondays Can Be Inspirational." Let's face it: Mondays are horrible. I usually go to bed on Sunday night with all sorts of good intentions: I'll get up early. I'll do a workout, some stretching, and then jump in the shower and hit the ground running.

The reality usually works out like this: Alarm goes off. I turn it off and go back to bed. I get up 30 minutes later and arrive at work somewhere around on time. It's terrible.

So, every Monday, I've decided to have something to look forward to. I'm going to share something that inspires me. Here goes:

It's probably not surprising that colour is exciting to me. A glance at my past projects will show you photo after photo of variegated yarns, bright reds, yellows, greens... even greys have a richness to them that makes my eyelids lower with pleasure. I simply love colour, all hues and tones, and am easily inspired by stark contrasts, and, perhaps not as often, by subtle hues.

It wasn't always about yarn. I have a past life as a jewelry designer. I have a cupboard full of beads and wires and neckchains that make me blush when I think of the size of the stash (I'll get around to destashing them sometime... any takers?). I used to fall asleep at night engulfed in thoughts of colour combinations, bead shapes, the angle of wire-wraps...

Nowadays, I think about the stitches in the project I'm currently working on, but if I've just purchased some yarn, I'm dreaming about the colour of the yarn, and what it's begging to become.

I happened to glance over at my yarn basket and noticed that I have an increasing amount of blue yarn. That, in and of itself, is strange for me. Why?

Because blue is my brother's colour.

Growing up, my brother always loved blue. Everything he owned was blue. In fact, I'm pretty sure most of his clothes have blue in them (unless they're from a particular sporting event, then he has to forgo it for the moment). He loved blue so much that I would never, ever choose it for anything I owned. It made me feel like a thief, a fraud. That's his colour. I think I might have even shied away from blueberries because of it.

My colour was red. That's probably not a shocker either. I have lots and lots of red yarns, red earrings, red clothes... It will probably always be my colour, and I will always be drawn to it. I'm fortunate that most reds look good on me, which,unfortunately, only enables my yarn habit further. "Red! That's my colour! I'll take six, please!"

It's only since adulthood that blue has entered my wardrobe, and heck, I'm glad. Have a look at this collection:

The deeper blues cause me to get lost in dreams... the depths of the ocean, or the mystery of deep space. Regal. Vibrant. Amazing.

That tissue box was thrown in at the last minute. I know, it's weird, but tissue boxes these days are made with the most amazing patterns that I often catch myself staring at them in the supermarket. Really. It's true. But come on... that is one pretty tissue box! It has a couple of squares of other colours: orange, green, white. The collector in me wants to keep it forever so that I can have that colour combination handy when I need it, but the lazy part of me knows that it will get recycled by my husband before I know it. It's probably for the best, otherwise, our house would be full of empty tissue boxes.

Of course, blue is not just blue. It is enhanced by the material in which it is rendered: silk, alpaca, glass, paint. The four balls on the left are an alpaca silk blend. It will become a shimmering, lacy shawl that will sit against my skin in luxurious warmth. Maybe I'll add some beads. I imagine it draping the head of an Egyptian queen, framing her face and her dark eyes as she sits in a hall with a floor of lapis lazuli.

I've tucked my own handspun yarn just next to them. It is likely going to become a lacy cowl, probably lined with fleece because it's a bit scratchy. Or maybe not. I'm actually enjoying the time I'm taking to dream something up with that one.

It took me a while to put that yarn away because I got stuck staring at the pile. It was a good thing to take them out, though, because it helped me to remember what I actually had hidden in the yarn basket. Maybe, just maybe, it'll stop me from purchasing more to add to the stash.

Probably not, but we can always hope.

I hope my brother won't mind me stealing his colour for a while. I feel a little sorry that I didn't do it earlier. Think of all the beautiful things I could have been making all this time...

And all of the blueberries I could have eaten. What a shame. What a shame...