A Knitting and Spinning Blog

Just to remind us all why we're here. Oh, yeah, and the children!

Christmas knitting has commenced now that secret knitting is done. Having knit 2 1/2 pairs of Fetching mitts in the last 2 weeks, I'm on a roll for who knows how many. Gave a pair that came out too small to one of DD's friends yesterday and, surprise surprise, her other friend wants some, too. That's okay.

After looking at fiber for socks forever and not wanting to take so much time, so I don't do anything, I decided to do some low twist singles and get through some stuff quick and dirty. Love it! The thing of it is, I just love looking at low twist singles. They are so basic, so simple, the colors so clear and visceral. Silly, I know, but they make me happy. So I spun about 6 ounces of Superwash Merino the other day: for DS's teacher's Fetchings. And then some Wensleydale in Mollusc from Hello Yarn: for felted slippers, with something else most likely as there's not really enough here for entire feet.

And here is a progress photo of the (now finished) baby alpaca gloves that went to DD's friend yesterday: I wish you could feel how soft they are, wish I had some more of that (in different colors, too mauve for me).

As soon as the secret knitting has reached its recipient, I will request a photo. I forgot to shoot it before I mailed it, can you believe that?

Should have some spinning time this morning. I will be doing more singles for Fetching, this time in blue and red for DD's other friend. Then I need to come up with something Olive Green for DD's teacher. Luckily these gloves only take a day apiece as the list gets longer and longer...

Peace.

Just checking in for a minute

Boy, oh, boy do things get (and stay) busy around here!

If you're wondering where I've gone, it's been mostly over to GroundReport.com, where I've become a regular contributor, especially to US political news. It's a LOT of fun and gives me a place to put non-bloggy stuff. This site may end up being even more knitting/spinning/kids and less ever politics, but it is to be profoundly hoped that I don't need to rant so much any more now that adults are soon to be in charge!

And if you need a fix of cuteness, here's our youngest children's choir (mine aren't in this one) singing in church on Sunday.



Peace.

Silly Me!

Spending all morning reading and deleting obnoxious and hateful comments on my YouTube video of our living room when they announced for Obama. I'm pretty tired of some of the words they're using over there. Why on earth would rabid wingnuts spend the day commenting on pro-Obama videos anyway?

Sheesh!

But it sure eats into the knitting time.

Plus I have a singing gig this afternoon, yay!

Yesterday I finally relaxed enough to sit down and spin a bit. Tonight I plan to watch "The American President" (for something like the 20th time--love you, Aaron Sorkin!) and finish up the Merino Tencel. Here's a reminder, since it's been so very, very long:

And the singles:

The knitting is secret, sorry!

Peace.

GObama!!

It's so weird that it's over. But wonderful!

I spent the day making videos for Ground Report and PBS's Video Your Vote project and I still haven't recovered my energy. It was exhausting but amazing. I talked to so many happy people. Every single person was happy, from first time voters to people who first voted for Eisenhower.

I got to be with my friends and family from the first moment out of the house. Great thanks to J and J and J and everyone who talked to me and the kids on our walking bus and Mrs. Stone's 5th grade class and Mrs. Flosi (the principal who didn't freak out). Thanks to all of the poll workers who let us shoot the people in line and our ballots. Thanks to all the poll workers for being poll workers!

Thanks to the folks who gave me a No on 8 lawn sign at the last minute and the 3 year old who gave me a quiet "Gobama!"

Most of all, thank you America. Thank you for seeing that we needed an adult in the White house. For repudiating "conservatism." For showing the talking heads that we're not "center-right." Thank you for loving the whole Obama family while detesting the Palins, grifters that they are. Thank you for voting if you've never done so before. And if you vote every single time.

Now I can honestly say that there is a chance for...peace.



Ooh, now I can obsess about Cabinet appointments!

Alleluia!

Martin Luther King, Jr.

"I Have a Dream"
Delivered 28 August 1963, at the Lincoln Memorial, Washington D.C.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by a sign stating: "For Whites Only." We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream."¹

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."²

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.

But not only that:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

And if I might add it...

YES WE CAN!

Peace.