So I know this is super glamorous, but one of the most tried-and-true tools in my arsenal of housecleaning gear is a cut up rag that I use to wash dishes.

With four people and no fancy electronic dishwasher, let’s just say I spend a lot of time looking at those little pieces of cloth.

Over the years, I’ve learned to accept–enjoy, actually–the time in front of the sink with my arms immersed in water.  An act of working meditation, a grounding concentration of peace that immediately brings me back to center during highly charged emotional upsets, which happen pretty frequently in a house with two very young children.

 

The dishes are an odd source of both stress and relief.  As a gift to myself, I finally made something pretty to enhance the peace a little–a sweet little crochet dishcloth made from Hempathy, a blend of hemp, cotton, and modal that provides just the right amount of scrubby, durability, and flexibility.

Like most things in the Virgo world, I’m pretty picky about my choice of dishrag.

I’ve tried a multitude of supercute tawashis with no luck–they’re too thick and small for my taste.  I love the simple dishrags my grandma has used for decades, but I found them to be way too big and soppy.  My intention was to create a simple cloth that I would enjoy using, a tool that I could make quickly and easily without trying to find a pattern, and most importantly, something that would get the dishes clean.  I have tried hemp, linen, cotton, wool, and acrylic and I’ve found Hempathy to be my number one choice for dishcloths.  It’s lightweight, soft but tough, and it doesn’t get all stiff when it’s wet.  Because it’s so light, it also dries very quickly–which means no funky dishrag stink.

These are super quick to whip up — just click on the link below to view the pdf.  Feel free to sell items made from this pattern–please link back to thepeacefulpeacock.com.  Enjoy and please feel free to share!

 

Dishcloths That Don’t Suck – printer friendly version

 

 

 

knit faster

1.  Pick up your knitting.

2.  Knit.

3.  Repeat.

As an avid crocheter who forever longed to knit, I can tell you one great observation I have come to know about knitting over the last couple of years:  that shit takes forever.  But I love it, it’s elegant and practical, and it’s worth the time invested, especially when you make the choice to work with high quality materials.

But, yeah.  No bones about it.  It ain’t quick.

Some nights, when the kids actually lie down and stop throwing things for awhile, I sit next to them and knit while they fall asleep.  I think about the aggravations of the day and I knit.  I sigh at their sweet, quiet faces and I knit.  I knit and knit….and yet I don’t seem to go very far.  I purse my lips and, with great irritation, let the day unfold on the rows–

…Well, if I could actually concentrate on anything for more than two seconds, this hat would have been finished by now…

…Every time I pull this damn thing out of hiding, somebody’s poky little fingers come along and turn it into an episode of The Three Stooges…

…Seriously?  Is that a boot up there?  For the love of God…

…grrrraaaahhhhhhhhhaaaaaahhhhhhh…

There is nowhere to hide with knitting.  You just have to sit and do the work. No lure of a finish line, no distractions of covered ground, just a slow and steady gait.  All that’s left is to allow the chatter to creep out of your poor, overloaded, cabin-bound psyche, without judgement, because that’s part of the work too.  The less glamourous work that doesn’t appear in neat and tidy rows right before your eyes, but does make you smile (maybe for the first time today) at those tiny, trusting faces while you find your groove.

…click…click…click…

…click…click…click…

Almost there.  A long way off with the knitting perhaps, but like all work it will patiently wait for you to come and finish.  No matter how long it takes to pick it up again.

cowl closeup

Whenever I spin up a skein of yarn in fantastical style, I inevitably hear the ringing in my ears:  “What are you going to make with that?”

Hand spun art yarn is the utmost in out-of-the-box fiber play–the thinker’s yarn.  You can’t just sit down and whip up any ol’ thing…it takes calculation, study, and observation of the characteristics of the ramble of twists that compose that firey pistol known as high energy yarn.

You could make a scarf.  There might–maybe, possibly–be enough for a hat.

Ho hum.

After much experience with these little beauties, I’ve determined that art yarn just won’t accept a life of neatly counted rows.

It’s not supposed to be functional, just as a ring is not meant to keep your finger warm.  It’s an adornment.  An understanding.  A celebration of the  tightrope that vibrates between art and craft.

headshot

For you, friends.  In honor of taking it to the next level, I present a simple and forgiving knit pattern for a dropstitch cowl, appropriate for a mere 42 yards of single ply, overspun, 8wpi handspun yarn.  A quick and simple pattern for an intricate and complex knitting companion.

Click here to download your free pattern .

There are about a thousand things I should be doing…but I am hanging back and enjoying the first year that my kiddos really get it.  Well, the material end, anyway.

After an insanely successful day at MissoulaMADE Fair last week, I’m taking some time out to let my head stop spinning. There’s some fun on the rise though–patterns in the works, yarn on the bobbins, and a rather large project bubbling up on the back burner there.

Patterns are a sweet relief from the madness of production, and I’m working on a series that showcases small amounts of handspun art yarn.  Join my newsletter to keep tabs on what’s developing and to receive a free pattern in the next issue.  (Don’t worry–it’s easy to unsubscribe if it’s not your kind of gig.)

Previews coming soooooon~~~~~*  Happy Merry to you!

Click here to sign up!

I think I might be insane.

It’s true.

In the last week or so, I have made 80 recycled wool coozies (50 of which are already nabbed!), cut out about a hundred more to stitch up, prepped yards and yards of organic cotton for a slew of reusable teabags, weighed and separated the roving into 27(!) colorways to be spun.

handspun yarn

I have spun 6 skeins of yarn, launched a new website, made Thanksgiving dinner, and have felt horrendous guilt for not being the perfect doting mother who spends my day teaching my three year old algebra.

I think a lot about pioneer women and how they had to do all this stuff simply to stay alive.  It wasn’t about getting ready for a show or personal fulfillment, but the larger considerations of survival and the pursuit of a dream.

What did they do with little bitty kids and a massive workload?

Ah, well.  My pioneering days will only last a few weeks at a time, which can easily be resolved in a year or two of good therapy.  And though it isn’t algebra, my kiddo does help me pick out colors and pushes the buttons on the scale, counting along in his own remarkable order.  He tells me how sewing machines and spinning wheels work with alarming accuracy.  He gets to watch Cars every single day until December 12.

It’s not all roses and glory though–he WANTS more stuff.  His patience is tapped.  He interrupts a lot with urgent demands and has thrown his manners by the wayside.  From this, I see that the balance has been upset in his life and this pace is pretty hard on his three year old OCD brain.  I’m not complaining or looking for solutions, just observing the impact of what happens when a full time mother becomes a full time anything else.  Even if it’s just for a little while.

This fiber world that I live in isn’t really about a show or some extra money or determining which products to pursue… it’s about learning to be a pioneer.  A very balanced pioneer.

Gotta run–someone is now demonstrating how my spinning wheel works on all that freshly dyed, meant for a show fiber. Not to worry.  There’s four more pounds.

hand dyed roving

flowers

Whenever we go anywhere,

beetle tree with orb friend

whenever we do anything,

sparkle

my man teases me

beat up pickups 8

for taking random pictures

kids

of random stuff

yellow

that looks indiscriminate

rustic shed

if you’re even looking at all.

my favorite blue

Sometimes these pictures pass for regular photos

missing it

sometimes only I can see

poky tree

the eager callings of waiting wool.

Stay tuned.

Ok, never mind that it’s 2 degrees outside right now.

Never mind that I’m dressed in wool from head to toe, with the exception of my pants and my underwear (though if I DID have wool underwear, I would certainly be wearing them right now).

These things kick start the season of wool, for sure, but this year I’ve gone a little off my rocker.

And this is where it begins.

This is a chunk of one of the fleeces I’ve been working on over the last few days in preparation for the MissoulaMADE Fair.

I just wanted you to see how it began.  The yarn, that is.  The piles and piles and piles of yarn.

Rather humble, isn’t it?

Heh heh.