You know, the one where I'm standing in the middle of Wrigley Field wearing only my watermelon-print Gap boxer shorts, trying to knit a Clapotis out of Rowan Kidsilk Haze with one broken needle. I look up, and the stands are full of screaming people. Then I realize it's 40,000 Lily Chins yelling at me to knit faster, knit faster.
Every Lily is working a crochet hook the size of a Louisville Slugger, producing a gigantic swatch of "Nolita" that streams onto the field like a tidal wave. I drop my needles and try to run, but the flood picks me up and carries me right over the top of the bleachers and suddenly all of Wrigleyville is inundated by "a fun dusting of eyelash." I start screaming for everybody to head for the lake, but when we get there Rick Mondragon is waiting on a giant scallop shell dressed as the Little Mermaid and holding an Uzi. He pulls the trigger and this jet of cheap bouclé shoots out at us and Mayor Daley screams, "All is lost!" And then I wake up.
Yeah, that dream.
Big Fat Bobbin
I finished a whole bobbin of the Wensleydale from Black Bunny Fibers.
I like the greens even better spun up. If I were eight years old, I would have faked being sick this morning so I could stay home from school and ply this.
It's good thing I didn't knit as a child. I'd have been a complete delinquent, hanging out in the alley behind the yarn store, huffing Kookaburra Wash, trying to score a bit of cashmere from the big kids.
There, but for the grace of God.
Franklin: I am envious of the quality of your spinning. I have just embarked on learning the use of the drop spindle and feel particular connection with your earlier cartoon providing an annotated look at your drop splindling experience. It reminds me of the importance of humour when I look at the yarn(?) I am slowly producing.
ReplyDeleteApparently, the word of the day is envy...I envy you finding a place of comfort in your post-Catholicism meanderings. If I may ask, what reading did you find most useful prior to embarking on your current exploration of Buddhist meditation?
With thanks,
Kate
You men and your Big Fat Bobbins! You're all alike! Thanks for the morning laugh Franklin.
ReplyDeleteOh lawdy, that is one seriously disturbing dream. I'm not sure the world needs ONE Lily Chin, let alone 40,000. And the Mondragon on the Halfshell, oh yuck. I'm a little concerned that your meditation is opening up some parts of your brain that should, um, maybe stay unopened. ;-)
ReplyDeleteYou've got it.
ReplyDeleteThat's some goodlooking singles there, kid.
Any dream involving Mayor Daley is frightening enough (I'm an ex-Chicagoan). Then you add in Lily Chin and Rick Mondragon... yikes.
ReplyDeleteSpinning looks beautiful -- I love those greens.
Dude. That's, um, quite the subconscious you have there.
ReplyDeleteWell at least your watermelon print shorts would match Lily's pink leather skirt, shoes, hose, blouse and bag that she likes to wear....
ReplyDeleteI shudder at the thought of Rick Mondragon as the Little Mermaid....more like the octopus lady that kidnaps the little Mermaid...whose name evades me at this moment.....
I've been away from my fat bobbin for over two weeks now, and I've got major bobbin-envy.
ReplyDeleteI've got some great roving and top at home that is just waiting to receive loving strokes once I finish plying the Blueface Leicester.
I can't wait to see what the Emerald City looks like plied up.
The only thing surprising to me about that dream is that Queen Victoria didn't make an appearance. We are not pleased.
ReplyDeleteFranklin,
ReplyDeleteThat is an amazing, albeit vivid, dream... Are you eating anything unusual before bedtime that's upsetting your tummy to cause this??
I've had that dream, only it's the colour of the bouclé that upsets me. That and the way that John Cusack keeps screaming like a girl.
ReplyDeleteYour spinning is great. Your dreams, however, are wacked.
ReplyDeleteYou're a born spinner. You did the Black Bunny proud.
ReplyDeleteMayor Daley shouting "All is lost"?
ReplyDeleteThat must be what made you realize it was all a dream. In real life, Mayor Daley would have called out thousands of mounted police to guard Millennium Park from crazed knitters!
Franklin:
ReplyDeleteThat's what happens when you start hanging out with Buddhists.....
I used to have this dream too, but then I gave up eyelash scarf knitting and now I feel much better.
Hmmm... I had recently experienced the "actor's nightmare." On finding myself center stage in a play I knew nothing about, I did what any self-respecting artist would do.
ReplyDeleteI faked a brain aneurysm.
Dude, you have got to stop smoking alpaca before bedtime.
ReplyDeleteAnd you're fat bobbins are very nice.
dolores MUST be behind those dreams; is she slipping a mickey into your food? is that really tobacco in those cigarettes she smokes, or some other "herb"; could she be "dropping" her ashes into your evening beverage?
ReplyDeleteI would have to seriously consider therapy if LC and RM appeared in my dreams...
anne marie in philly
Oh hell no. God's grace would have put you squarely in that alley, for that is the way of the true disciple. Of fiber.
ReplyDeleteAnd what were you doing knitting a dropped stitch pattern out of mohair. The nightmare was bound to just continue :-)
ReplyDeleteYou don't want Freud. He'd be coveting your big bobbins.
ReplyDeleteDream? I think that qualifies as a nightmare! Must go stop shuddering now... uuuy
ReplyDeleteUrsula... the octopus lady in Little mermaid was ursula...
ReplyDeleteI dreamed of Sigmund Freud last night so perhaps you and I should meet in dreamland - I could bring Sigmund and the three of us could fight the onslaught of foofy yarn.
ReplyDeleteI thought Wensleydale was cheese. You know, like in Wallace and Gromit. Mmmmm... Cheese...
I don't spin. No, I don't. And I don't want to, either. That must be why I got two (TWO?) drop spindles and six (SIX!) colors of roving - in these delicious, giant cinnamon roll shaped ... uh, fluffy things ... at Stitches Midwest last summer.
ReplyDeleteThe ONLY thing I was going to buy was some fascinating silk & stainless steel yarn from Habu. But then I saw the fluffy things... so vibrant, and just looking at me like all the puppies in the pound.
So I took them all home, and every now and then I make a little bit of string. But I don't spin, no, I don't. I can't. I won't. I'm not on the slippery slope (but I can see the edge from here).
i had no idea there were so many gay spinners/knitters out there.
ReplyDeleteYeah, your personality just exudes danger.
ReplyDeletelovely yarn, i am not sure what to say about the dream, except it made me laugh out loud...at work...requiring an explanation...it is very difficult to explain lily chin (et al dream references) to non-knitter/crocheters...i just sounded crazy. oh well, you are a very funny, funny man (in a good way:>)
ReplyDeleteWe're so happy you like the smell of Kookaburra Wash... even if you are "huffing" it. Haha. Thanks! :)
ReplyDelete