Hydrant Hysteria - part II

The deadline for submission of sketches is May 1. So obviously I came up with a great idea just yesterday, and then proceeded to stay up way to late last night working on it (think 2am bedtime). It was rather reminiscent of college, or better yet high school....college was too easy. But I digress.

My design is based on a design that is on my little desk calendar for May. It's also from my city and being as this whole thing is part of some kind of city beautification project my hope is that my subject matter will add an extra edge to the design.

Original stained glass dome (use the link to see a much larger picture:

And this is my translation onto a Fire Hydrant:

I'm quite convinced that I am not a particularly good artist (at least for drawing and similar type arts). But I am quite the copyist.






I also made a penguin, because that's how I roll:



I'm going to title it "SSO Penguin". Which actually stands for Secret Society of Penguins, but I figure SSO is much safer. :-)


Sorry about this formatting - it is fighting back and I can't be bothered fixing it.

Hydrant Hysteria

I want to paint a Fire Hydrant.

It all started sometime earlier this week. My city has some funny little organization that send around a Things to Do list. And I think they also run some kind of downtown revitalization program maybe. But the first thing listed in the email was "Hydrant Hysteria".

They are having a thing where there are 48 fire hydrants around downtown to be painted. They are asking for submissions with designs and they will choose people to paint each of the hydrants.

I have always wanted to do something like this.

Does that make me a huge dork?

Every smallest stroke.

That to be continued was significantly longer than I had intended. But at least I'm finally continuing now.

I arrived back at my house around 5 o'clock on Sunday with my treasure. I unloaded the car, pretty much just dumping everything in piles in appropriate rooms. And then determined that the next appropriate course of action was to gather spinning supplies. Unfourtionately I don't have many spinning supplies and my learn to spin kit hadn't even arrived yet :-(

So I gathered supplies to make my own spindle:
The wooden dowel was too long, and we use it to keep the window open so I figured shortening it was not a good idea. The knitting needle seemed to be missing it's mate anyway, plus I rarely ever use needles above size 6 lately, and it was the right length. I wanted to add some weight to the spindle without using tons of CD's so I taped some pennies to the CD's, used duct tape to attach the CD/penny sandwich onto the needle, and then duct taped a bent paper clip onto the tip to form a nice hook. Voila:


After that I went ahead and based on the dozens of 'how to spin using a drop spindle' sites that I've read and or videos watched online I spun out some yearn. It was rather crazy - mostly owing to me putting way too much twist in the yarn I do believe. Then unable to find very helpful instructions I created my own method of plying.

I divided up what was on my spindle into two by wrapping each bunch around a spontaneously chosen object: the points of my detachable circular needles. And then I again used the spindle and some brute force to ply them into one "yarn" that ended up being between 2 and 3 yards long and looks more like rope than yarn. But I'm still quite proud of it.

:-)





“We are spinning our own fates, good or evil, and never to be undone. Every smallest stroke of virtue or of vice leaves its never-so-little scar.”

We are spinning our own fates.

Hi, my name is Carlin. I’m 23 years old and I’m already a spinster.

As referenced before I had the idea in my head that I was going to learn to spin yarn. I journeyed back home for the weekend to visit with relatives who were visiting from NH. That in and of itself is a separate blog worthy event, but for now I digress. On the route back home (as in the house that I live in on a daily basis these days) I had arranged to stop in and visit Mrs. D. She is my friends, Bananas, mother. She has five pet alpacas.

She is also crazy. Having visited and having listened to stories a number of times during our high school years and even a few times during college I knew she was crazy. But sometimes time makes one forget things, like how odd some people are. Not to knock her or anything. She’s an exceptionally nice and kind individual. Just happens to also be crazy.

I pulled into the driveway and Mr. D happened to be out in the yard and went to go and get her. Laid out in the garage (they have a big garage) were, oh probably 40-50 medium size plastic garbage bags of alpaca fleece. Holy crap how much did she think I was going to take.

She eventually came out and so began the chatting. We were rather focused around alpacas and hand crafts. But at least at one point we dabbled very briefly on personal spirituality. All in all I barely got a word in edge wise.

To begin with I was feeling a bit iffy about just taking all of her fleece. The stuff really does actually have value, but no worries there anymore. She just wants to see something done with it. From Banana she had heard that I’m considering going back to school. And somehow she suggested that I could sell the fleece and use the money for school. The naivety of the idea makes me laugh. Yet it does show the point. She had also given thought to the prospects of us starting a business together. Both of our names have good C sounds so she was combining that with some form of Create. Actually rather catchy. Tempting, maybe someday, I can always hope.

I left her house with a bag of fleece for each Alpaca. And big dreams.

At home I weighed my new treasure: approximately 15 lbs. For comparison sake, one will typically sell fiber by the ounce. 15 lbs at 16 oz to 1 lb = 240 ounces. A slightly researched conservative estimate of $2.50 per ounce from an individual alpaca farm = $600.

*Reaches down to pick jaw up from the floor*

That is ridiculous, even if you reduce the number in speculation that one would receive a bulk discount.

My goodness.


This story of my transition into spinsterhood to be continued…

“We are spinning our own fates, good or evil, and never to be undone. Every smallest stroke of virtue or of vice leaves its never-so-little scar.”

Every once in a while.

One of my good friends families has a small herd of alpacas as pets. They keep all of the wool from shearing and at some point found someone to spin the first years fleece into yarn. Her mom really wanted to have something made from the yarn but doesn't knit and it didn't occur to anyone that I knit until recently it seems. So I have been working on a scarf for her. It's currently at about 8 inches. The pattern she choose is rather small so I'm hoping to make it extra long.

More importantly this exercise has instilled within me a desire to learn to spin yarn. Supposedly they have each years shearing up in their attic. And have I ever been able to resist a new craft?

If only crafts were less expensive I would be much more happy.

From e-bay I procured a set of carders that I'm really just hoping will work. And after much research and holding off I finally actually put in the order for this drop spindle kit. I can't wait for it to come so that I can actually stop the drooling over online video and instructions and actually try it for myself.

Let us just hope I don't fail spectacularly. That would be sad.

In other news I am working diligently towards a way to make popcorn in the microwave. The hitch being that this is not those silly microwave bags. Now you may be saying "put the kernals in a paper bag, close it, and microwave. But you see I have no paper bags. Improvisation was required.

Attempt one:
Idea:Kernels in one of our Tupperware containers with the lid not fully attached so as to serve as a vent.
Observation: somewhat soggy popcorn and over cooked popcorn, and when I got to the bottom of the bowl I discovered some unpopped kernels imbedded in the plastic, there were also some melt holes. Oops.
Result: Failure.

Attempt two:
Idea: Kernels in a glass bowl with a paper towel rubber banded on top.
Research: Are rubberbands microwave safe? Do they give off anything toxic? Findings were inconclusive.
Observation: Popcorn seemed overcooked and yet some kernels still unpopped.
Result: Failure of less epic proportions. Oh and I don't seem to be dead from any toxic fumes or anything either. Although I think my applesauce at lunch today (homemade and canned) may have given me a bit of food poisoning. I suppose that is another story.


Lastly today at band (which is still driving me completely nuts with its awfulness yet I still go nevertheless) some new kid showed up like 20 minutes into rehearsal. Normally this would not merit comment however he bore remarkable resemblance to my first boyfriend. Although not quite a tall and lanky he could have been A squashed down a bit so as to be a bit more plump and also seemed a bit less socially awkward (no offense intended, I have nothing against you [finally - yea I know I'm pathetic], but it is true at least from when I knew you well).


"Every once in a while, someone will mail me a single popcorn kernel that didn't pop. I'll get out a fresh kernel, tape it to a piece of paper and mail it back to them."

The trick is not to get frightened.

For any number of reasons this evening I am in quite a 'lonely' mood. And while it is, as one might typically imagine bothersome, I'm actually rather at peace with it.



"No matter how lonely you get or how many birth announcements you receive, the trick is not to get frightened. There's nothing wrong with being alone."

Marshmallow Peeps

Today, spontaneously, in the office, my coworkers put two marshmallow peeps in the microwave to see how large they would get. Upon taking it out and allowing it to cool they then ate it like a delicacy.

These people are all how much older than I am?

In other work related news last week I lost it at 4:15 on Wednesday. A co-worker came because she’s like my friend in the office and she’d heard the un-pleasant phone call which was the straw that broke the camels back. Trying to talk to her made me break down sobbing. Then our boss showed up looking for her. The hysterics continued. De-lightful. He didn’t know what to do and recommended taking days off. I have no time for days off.

Two nights ago I had a bad dream/nightmare about printing off and brining the wrong tickets to the concert.

Conclusion: this job is slowly killing me.


Oh and I have another first date tonight. *sigh*