Spinning a Yarn...

I am a knit-aholic. And crochet-aholic. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. In work trucks, in front of the television, at the doctor's office. I knit to clear my head in tough times. I steal time to knit to make myself feel treated to something special. It's a meditative practice, it's a balm, it's productive, it's creative. It's an art, a science, and an alchemy. And I'm just getting started :).

I have become a collector of free patterns. I surf the web like one posessed, running through page after page of patterns of potential interest, amassing .pdf files and online bookmarks for things I'd love to make or that I want to learn to make. I always, always bite off more than I can chew. Just as I revel in reading too many books at once (my current count is five--and that's just what's in the hotel room with me tonight!), I delight in working on three or five knitted projects at once. Keeps me interested and entertained. Keeps me sane. Mostly.

A few things happened to make me feel ready to knit a sellable project (see my shop for current items). Back around Christmas, I was working on a prayer shawl and my poor husband brought it to me in tatters--my little girl had gotten into it and, while the overall fabric was largely intact, a twenty-stitch block in the middle had pulled off the needles and unraveled at least fifteen rows back. With a few deep breaths, a bright light, and a little time, I was able to fix it so that the finished product is as smooth and even as if it had never happened. Not a stitch missed. I was rather pleased with myself.

I have found myself knitting things that friends have hankered after--handwarmers, scarves, hats that my friends and co-workers have wanted to own, to wear. That's a big step in the right direction. As with most warm-blooded human beings, a little encouragement goes a long way for me.

Over Easter I finished two very satisfying projects: a sweater for my daughter to wear over her Easter dress, and an amigurumi bunny to go with her Easter basket.

The sweater:



The doll:



These were two firsts: my first fitted piece of clothing and my first crocheted toy. I was so proud! The sweater was actually fairly complicated. I won't be winning any competitions for the amigurumi doll, but I felt so very successful. I've finally reached a point where I can really diversify--I understand stitches, I can see how a fabric or a pattern is put together, and I can carry a basic pattern in my head. That means I can create a finished, professional-quality product and multitask... two very important qualities when stocking a shop for sale.

But the final step was a big one. I looked and looked online for a particular pattern that would fit the specifications I needed. I wanted to make the perfect vegetable bag/market bag. None of the patterns I could find online satisfied me. I needed something simple, effective, sturdy, and classic. After a couple unfinished attempts, I decided to design my own pattern. And it worked! With a knitted net body and a crocheted rim and straps, my design is just what I was looking for. I've finished the "pilot project"--a slightly wonky version with too-long straps and a too-short body--and made some simple adjustments. Tomorrow I'll place the crocheted finishing touches on my first sale-quality bag and unveil them as a staple on my Etsy site. I'm very excited about the whole prospect.

My desire to "peddle my wares" online is very much tied to my family's desires to homestead and live sustainable lives. Making something with my own hands has an undeniable beauty to it. Living off the products of my own hands has an unmatchable appeal. There's a sense of self-sufficiency and capability to the idea that draws me in. Whether it's raising a truck patch for sale at the local farmer's market or turning out market bags for sale online, supplementing our "Day Job" incomes with the work of our own hands lends a stability, appeal, and sense of meaning to our lives.

We are just beginning. It's an exciting time to be out on the Farm. There is *plenty* to keep us busy on the land and *plenty* to keep my fingers flying over the keyboard. In the works: two or four new chickens this summer, guineas to be raised from keets (babies) scheduled to arrive in June, and a Tennessee Black Hog boar coming in the next week or two. The Black Hog will need a buddy... probably a cheap feeder pig to become "dinner" sometime this fall. The boar himself is going to become half of a breeding pair within the next three years. There are very few operations left in the US that raise Black Hogs, and registered babies can sell for $350 a piece. As one of my five books this week is "Raising Pigs" by Kelly Klober, expect an in-depth hog blog post in the next week or two.

The Beginning

Tonight I'm setting aside my newest foray into the world of crochet to start up my very own blog. I'm falling into a niche only the 21st century could produce--the intersection of internet connectivity and "back-to-the-land" homesteader's ideals.

My husband and I have moved with our one-year-old daughter to a family farm in the Mid-South. We're now living in and caretaking for a classic farmhouse built by my husband's family in the early 1800s. The house is updated with bathrooms and a kitchen, rich with history, and truly beautiful... but it's still large, creaky, rather drafty, and in need of some serious love. The surrounding land was a dairy farm until the 1980s, and the outbuildings are all still extant, though in various states of disrepair/destruction.

When we first moved it was the height of canning season. My husband's grandmother planted fig trees around what is now the henhouse, my in-laws' garden was in full swing, and my husband's closest friends from high school/college had orchard connections. For me, this whole thing began with a canning fascination. In short order I had put up three shelves worth of peach jelly, fig jelly, fig preserves, apple cider jelly, and (my personal favorite) jalapeno jelly. I now have a shelf in my fridge that holds a jar each of my five successful first attempts. Five Jars--it seemed like a fitting name for another experiment. This time I'm jumping feet-first into blogging... I'll learn as I go. It's how I operate best. Which is good, because right now I have alot to learn.

My husband and I both live at the cusp of academic and applied social sciences. My husband is still in graduate school and I recently graduated with a master's degree. We came to our new home with the lofty dream of creating a sustainable system on this farm that will bring us the income and sustenance we need to live comfortably without falling into the traps of Big Ag on the one hand or poverty on the other. I'm now trying to balance a 40-hour-a-week day job with keeping chickens, being a hands-on-mother, and trying to break into the mix of homemade and cutting-edge media that are the worlds of Etsy and Artfire. And I'm happier than I've ever been.

It is incredibly important to me to be anonymous, so that the life we lead here will be protected. You won't find pictures of my kids or my family on my blog. You may see photos of the farm, of our animals, of schematics on how to build a henhouse... but my family and our location are our business. It's a delicate balance that this generation is the first to strike. The new level of interconnectedness we face is both a blessing and a curse. I want to balance being a contributor to the blogosphere with protecting our personal privacy. Call it an experiment. Help me make it a successful one.

When you break it all down, we're a couple learning how to be married and how to be parents, as we go about trying to live in the world in a way that is acceptable to our consciences, our responsibilites, and our spirits. We are entering the next phase of our lives. I invite you to join us on the journey.