Zombie-head!

That's what I kinda feel like. I started the week -- no wait, day -- out with a minor cold. A low-grade cold that was barely a cold at all. By the time I got home from my sweltering, semi-tropical office, I was feeling definitely infected. And as the evening has gone on, I've gotten progressively more zombie-like. Grr.

In my stuffy-headed state, I did manage to not only get some real work done but also take WiP pics! Oh yes, my friends. I am actually posting WiPs. Go me!

First, the ever-present Razor Cami. In the car this weekend, I kept screwing up the front. So I had to keep ripping it back. I finally got tired of it and left it screwed up until today, when I finally frogged the same damn rows for the gazillionth time, and now it looks like this:



Notice the heap of yarn? Gotta knit that back up.

And then the New Design. No, it's not finished yet. Haven't been working on it. Much. But it's progressed since the last time you saw it, so here:



Exciting, no?

I'd post more (there's so much I want to post about!) but instead I am taking my hopped-up-on-nyquil self to bed. As soon as I stop sniffling to death.

Pilgrimage

(Warning: Photo-heavy post. May take excruciatingly long to load.)

A couple of years ago, my best friend Murphy and I were listening to Eddie Izzard's Dress To Kill performance for the gazillionth time, and the part about Stonehenge in particular.



And it was then that Murph told me about the most glorious place in the world. It is a magical place, full of wonder and mystery. This place... is Foamhenge.

...

Yes, Foamhenge.

Right near the Natural Bridge in southwestern Virginia, a sculptor created a lifesize replica of Stonehenge, and he made it entirely out of styrofoam. I decided and Murph agreed that we must visit this place. We told our friend H and it was a plan. After all, Murph is from very near there, and even has a vacation spot on a nearby lake. The Plan became elaborate and perfect. And promptly took its place on the backburner for at least a year and a half.

Well, this past weekend, we finally made our pilgrimage to Foamhenge. Here is where I will let the photos take over and tell the story:















Probably nobody should be as excited as we were about a henge made of foam. But it was a very good day.

HIMday!

I know, another WiP Wednesday with no WiPs. I promise, it's just because I have no noticeable progress to record. Also, it's been a busy week, trying to stay on top of things for Ragtime, for which rehearsals started this week. There are 42 cast members. There is one of me taking their measurements. I only got halfway through the cast on Monday, so I have to do the rest tonight. Fortunately, I think there will be people to help me manage the wardrobe backstage during the shows. 42 is a lot of people. On the bright side, I think I know The Question now.

Also, it's football season, which brings with it its own projects. I need to get to work on fingerless gloves and hats for tailgating. So much to do!

But most importantly, the new HIM album came out yesterday! I couldn't get it until late at night, so I'm finally listening to it this morning. It's AWESOME. As expected. Everyone needs a copy. Go forth all of you! Seek out Venus Doom (it's the one with the really ugly painting on the cover). Buy it. Swoon over Ville's voice. Enjoy the music. It's the reason we were put here on this earth.

Mmm, wet wool...

I dunno why, but I love the smell of wet wool.

And I got a lot of that smell yesterday, because I finally finished some of my yarns that I want to use but have been sitting around spun but not set. Ta-daa!


Apologies for the icky yellow bathroom lighting and the cluttered shower.

I set the yarns using the method that Priscilla Gibson-Roberts lays out in Spinning in the Old Way. Put it on the stove in a pot of water and bring it to a simmer. Finally have a use for Mom and Dad's old crab pot! Most Marylanders use a large enameled pot for steaming crabs. I use it for setting yarn. Kinda sad, really. I could really go for some steamed hard crabs... Yarn doesn't take Old Bay quite as well.

On Why the RenFest is a Mixed Blessing

Never thought it would be my parents encouraging me to buy a leather bustier.

Alex, I would expect. My best girlfriend Murph, I would expect. Pam, I would expect.

Did not expect my parents.

But they did. And I bought it. And it's hott. Yes, with two "t"s.
(ETA, by popular demand) The item in question:



Please pardon the different plaid shoelaces. Trust me, they're better (at least temporarily) than the ridiculous laces that were in it when I bought it, which were so stiff they stuck out on their own.

And now that I have an item for pirate garb, I would say I spent my limit today at the faire. Certainly. And probably will once again, the next time I go.

Which will not be until next month. Sad. And yet, very okay with that.

Also, I now have a desire to pick my recorders back up again. I have a soprano recorder and an alto recorder. Beyond that my hands just aren't big enough to play. But this is brought on by the fact that I've been thinking about it for a while and by the discovery today of a music ensemble I'd not seen before. (Ironic, seeing as how they play right before my favorite, The Pyrates Royale.) This ensemble is called Cercamon. And I am not ashamed to say that they stuck in my mind not only because of their fantastic medieval music but also because their frontman is absolutely beautiful. He is a gorgeous man. I noticed that after I noticed an instance of this: two at once. I've only seen that in pictures.

While I was at the RenFest and shopping in a WONDERFUL accessory shop, my dad's friend commented to me that I should be designing clothes for a living. Truer words were never spoken. I do still have a desire to work with medieval manuscripts and stay involved in the study of the middle ages, but really? I would be so happy to design and make stuff all the time. Of course I'd still have other hobbies. But my work would be so much more like play. And that would be fine with me. If I could feasibly quit my day job and spin/crochet/knit/sew/design all day, that would be wonderful. Alas, I cannot, and it's not that I don't like my job at all, it's just that I much prefer doing those things. That's what I really think about all day while I'm working. Most people zone out thinking about what they're going to do over the weekend, where they're going to go for dinner, whether that hottie at the bar last night is really going to call him/her... I zone out and think up new and interesting ways to make threads wearable. Now I am already signed on to design for my friend's next summer show, and that's really preoccupying my mind. Most of what I'm thinking about has to do with costumes and visuals for that show. Ohhh how I can't wait for next summer...

And for my next trip to the RenFest. Feathered hat, here I come!

Confessions

No, there's no body hidden in the basement. Not that kind of confession.

I confess that at the Renaissance Festival this past weekend, I bought garb.

Yes, I could make my own RenFest garb. Yes, that way it would be exactly what I want and perfectly fitted and I'd be able to say "Why thank you, yes I did make it."

But I didn't.

My SCA garb is never going to be worn to the RenFest. And I don' t feel like putting the effort and time into making garb for the RenFest, and I did find exactly the style I wanted at a very low price. So I bought it. And proceeded to justify it to everybody.

Which brings me to my next confession. I have too much on my plate. I can't even manage to make stuff that I want to make. And yet I'm doing costumes for Ragtime. I need to start staying home after work, but I don't want to give up my social life. And that's all part of why I don't post here very often. I'm not home to post, and when I am, I haven't got anything to show. Pathetic, no?

Sometimes I just don't know how to stop. I've always been bad at time management.

So meanwhile, I've got a gazillion inspirations. Someday I'll get to them all, right? How do people do all the stuff they do? I've always wanted to know.

Sorry bout the angsty rant, sometimes venting to the world helps.