Skip to main content

Touch Me




Sounds erotic, doesn't it? Touch Me is actually a yarn made by Muench. It is the softest and silkiest (and one of the spendiest) yarns in my stash. It is a chenille that tends to "worm" but I love it all the same. My first project with this spendy fiber was a red and purple crocheted scarf that is perfect for the discriminating 'red hatter'. The yarn was actually a birthday gift from my father and mother and they had bought two balls of the stuff at about $15 per ball. I added a third ball to complete my project.
Again I bought this "splurge" for a friend going through chemotherapy for breast cancer. I knitted up a delicious hat in a deep burgundy but alas! I never saw it grace her head even after she lost her hair. I pondered asking point blank if she didn't care for it because I would have loved to wear it. I did no such thing.

Between the last two Local Yarn Store tours (a.k.a LYS tours) in the Seattle area I bought another two balls in light blue. I knitted up the same delicious hat to grace my own head. I am including a picture to share my moment with you.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Fall

Orange, gold, rust, burnt sienna, ochre, raw umber; the riot of fall colors, in the trees and at our booted feet; a drive in the countryside; the taste of hot apple cider on my lips; the satisfaction of a truckload of firewood we gathered and cut ourselves; elk herds on the move; hearty stews, savory soup, crusty whole-grain bread, pumpkin and gingerbread spice lattes; these are the memories I tap into the most this time of year. Cabela's fliers in the mailbox; Carhart's camo-clad hunters swarm outlying areas; mushroom garthering; huckleberry picking; logger burgers; forest service roads; cheese sandwiches on the woodstove; warm quilts, cool sheets, and flannel nightgowns; cold butt, warm heart.  Immensely grateful to have the well of memories to draw upon.
Post a Comment
Read more

Lashing Out

Fed up. Sick of hearing, "I'm sorry."  Apologies don't erase the pain you inflict on me. You pull my pubic hair. Your nitrile gloves pull the hair from my head. Not once in a while but day in and day out. You turn me in a manner that suits you rather than in a manner that doesn't stress my body. Why won't you use the pad and sheet to turn me as one unit? Instead, you allow my body to twist as you hold me one-handed. How good you are at your job. What part of "my muscles are dying" don't you understand?
Post a Comment
Read more

On-the-job Sass

I continue getting sass from one particular caregiver. He says, "You need to communicate with us." he continues to completely miss or dismiss the concept of I would if I could . It is part and parcel to having ALS, I am losing my ability to communicate and it is his job to assist me. Part of helping me, like it or not, is to learn my routine and anticipate needs, when possible. He misses the fact that I'm failing more every day and night time is when I'm weakest. It is extremely insensitive and arrogant to expect me to cater to his needs and expectations. Pushing me to repeat words or expound on a simple one word suggestion is physically taxing on my system, adding stress which further depletes me. Cuing is supposed to be caregiver's domain, not the patient's. Here is the situation, I am being changed. In the midst of the action, as seems to be his practice, he is sidelined asking me trivial, meaningless, but energy-sapping questions. Do I want my legs raise...
Post a Comment
Read more