The Things On The Doorstep

You'd think that while I'm recovering from surgery, I'd be flat on my ass, knitting a lot. Not exactly. I'm actually working my tail off, which may not be entirely sane, but any freelancer knows that two months with no paycheck is a painful thing, and if a contract lands in your lap faster than you thought it would, you say (or in my case, you groan, albeit entirely gratefully), "Oh yeah, baby, I'm ready to roll."

Yes, I actually say that to my client. Do not try this with your boss unless she knows you very, very well.

Luckily for me, my particular form of freelance work can often be done in the horizontal position.

Oh, please, Franklin. I'm a writer. I don't have the wardrobe or the legs for that.

I have, however, been spinning and knitting a little bit. Just enough to finish two extremely small, yet important objects to thank two extremely big-hearted, important-to-me people. You see, a certain Imbrium decided to contact a few people to see if they might want to join her in making me feel better. She knew I was terrified to go through with the craniotomy (ggggggah, I hate that word) and thought that massive infusions of wool, chocolate, and a lot of love would make me feel less alone. It might even cut a little bit of my fear and pain to have the postman be tortured before my very eyes.

Lo and behold, for three weeks, I received a package Every. Single. Day. She even created a Yahoo group to organise this effort. A Yahoo group. Dude. I had no idea, until packages started arriving, at least one a day, each with a note from the gift-giver written on a sheepy card drawn by Franklin, with the word "surprise" on it. And Juno stepped in (this part was really confusing, because the postman thought Juno had become my wool and dark chocolate dealer or something) to mail packages for people who didn't have my mailing address.

The outpouring of support, fuzzy stuff, and, oh god, the chocolate...it was simply astonishing. Even on my worst days, the sight of the postman (who, by the way, started combing his hair and wearing a puka-shell necklace) having to go without his afternoon nip off the flask and actually do his job filled me with such a thrill that I truly felt better right away. (There were bonus warm-fuzzy-feeling points gained for scaring the crap out of him with the metal staples the first week, but I was feeling kind of mean. I blame the drugs.)

I have (hopefully—brain trouble, you know) privately thanked everyone who sent me a little something, but I knew I had to do something extra...uh...special...for the two people who overcame postal hell and fear of organisational behaviour to set this whole scheme up.

So, just when you thought Fuzzy Logic had become a bunny-free zone...

Let me refresh your memories. The FL Bunny Rule is pretty simple: it's got to be all handspun, even if I decide to knit Ray-Bans for Norma, a miniature bird's-eye lace shawl for Cassie, or better thong underwear and a hotel sleep mask for Stephanie. And it has to be my handspun. Norma's was actually made of my very first handspun, so beginning spinners, don't think you can't get creative with those little bits of lumpy stuff everyone starts out making. A lot smooths out in the knitting. Trust me. And if it doesn't, you call it "novelty," or as my friend Robin calls hers, "Lumpi," and knit with it anyway. You'll be so damned gleeful about your creation, you'll be insufferable. Okay, maybe that's just me....

Anyway, the only exception to my rule is that if there is a metal part and I can find a metal something or other to fill the bill, I'll do that. Otherwise, I have to mimic the metal in handspun. Luckily, paperclips and wirecutters were enough to handle what I needed for Juno:

Even bunnies need a spindle, right?
Among her other amazing talents,
Juno is a fantabulous spinner who knows well
the call of portable fleece-turning tools.

I had thought of making her a nostepinne instead of a spindle, but I was worried she'd think I have a permanent case of nostepinning-on-the-brain. And while I do think that everyone's life is better with a nostepinne in it, I could not resist the lure of the little metal hook:

Side view shows the top of the spindle. It's handspun i-cord
with a rapidly increased and then immediately decreased top,
plus a hook made by bending and cutting
a paperclip. Knit on size 0 circs.

Yes, I spun those singles wrapped around it.
No, I did not spin them with this spindle.
Pfff. I'd have to be nuts to do that.
I'm not that far gone, honest.

The footwear, you ask? Juno specials.
They are Doc Martens. High-tops. Complete with
the requisite yellow stitching and laces. Yep, that's handspun.
See, Steph? Yel-low. Not Black. I'm not totally hopeless.

And Imbrium. My sweet Imbrium. The letter she sent me before the surgery and the one she wrote afterward (by hand! in ink! I love that!) to explain why I'd had a three-week-long episode of The Thing On The Doorstep (dude, the postman even has the bulging eyes) both made me require a hell of a lot of kleenex, in the good way, and feel incredibly grateful that this woman has become an important part of my life.

Now, anyone who reads Imbrium's blog knows that she participates, nay, crafts long, intricately woven back-stories for roleplayers, in a thing called BloodShadows. It's a huge undertaking, and I admire her fortitude in even considering this kind of creative venture. Imbrium is not only hugely talented, but fearless. Personally, I cannot imagine roleplaying vampire stories with 75 or so other people without having to be locked in a padded room afterwards just to deal with the nightmares. (Hey, some kids had monsters under the bed. I had vampires under the bed.) Anyway, when I tried to come up with the perfect bunny for Imbrium, I knew it had to involve miniature knitted i-cord teeth:

Submitted for your approval:
The BloodShadows Bunny. Noted:
It is decidedly not easy to knit teeth.

The cape is done in the Bleeding Hearts lace pattern.
I don't recommend using lightly-spun llama singles for this.
Too stretchy, so the yarnovers look like ass. For future reference,
vampire bunnies require two-ply laceweight for their capes.

I'm sorry for the wonky lace, Imbrium, but my hearts were in the right place.

On a completely unrelated note, I was a guest on Radio Noon, a call-in show on CBC Radio, a few weeks ago, and they are holding a knitting challenge: a drive for 10 x 10-inch squares to make blankets for Dans La Rue, a group which supports homeless kids. Why you don't have to measure in centimetres, I have no idea. And for the record, in that photo, I am not giving the photographer the finger: I am holding a spindle. I think it's the first time anyone's spun on CBC Radio. I even dropped my spindle three times and did not swear once. Another first. Maybe they did put that common sense implant in after all....

Okay, maybe not. I mean, dude, I just knit teeth for a bunny. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need to go turn the oven off.

September 10, 2006 2:28 AM  | Permalink  | Comments (49)  | Print