Bragging rights.

I know some people claim their child started preparing for college since like kindergarten? Well I have here a picture that proves Mari has started preparing for her college days at the tender age of 10 months.

"Keg party at the moontower tonight, be there."

Greetings from the land of counterpane.

Mari has been sick on and off for a month now. First it was fever during a trip up north, then diarrhea from the antibiotics, then a runny nose, then a mysterious rash, now last night she spiked a fever of 104! A trip to the hospital and a blood test later it turns out to be a common cold. Some baby tylenol, antibiotics, and lots of rest and her fever's almost gone.

I'm absolutely exhausted. Lots of doubts about your abilities and judgements as a parent surface during those long sleepless nights with a feverish baby. I've had the advantage of being able to raise her exactly the way I want (Stay at home, Exclusively breastfeed until 6 months, Co-sleeping, Child wearing, Cloth diapering, the list goes on and on.) But along with that privilege comes the responsibility of knowing that I'm also solely responsible when things go wrong. Every step taken off the well trodden path of common child care practices come up to light. Ah well, it's smallish price to pay I guess.

Watching your child with an illness is sort of like washing the dishes with gloves on. You see the water you can almost feel your hands get wet and yet, you still have dry hands. Watching Mari scratch a rash on her leg or toss and turn during a fever, I get this feeling that somehow I should be feeling the itch or the fever too. It's almost unnatural that I can't feel her pain physically, just a bare ghost of it in my mind.

We've been spending most days in warm, snuggly, nursing type activities. Lots of cuddles and carrying. She's sleeping peacefully now. Knock on wood that this is it for now.

Standing tall

standing from pinn on Vimeo.

Or at least, pulling to standing!

spun

Some pics of my first cotton yarn.



On the spindle.


The charkha, disassembled so I don't injure myself walking in to it.

lightbulb: ON!

Holy hell! It's all finally clicking! The yarn I'm getting is all thick and thin and ugly as hell but at least it's yarn! And I'm spinning! Actually spinning cotton! I never thought I'd ever get it! (shamefully enough I've been avoiding spinning cotton for years because I'm scared of the short fibers. meep.) But Yay!! Yay for trying things out! I'll take a pic for y'all tomorrow ok?

Things not to do in this heat.

Do not follow the link in your e-mail to the spin-off mag page. Because you know what that leads to? It leads to you breaking out your stash of spain merino in the 32 degree heat that's what. But that's what I did. And, ooh, the stuff I found there! The effect of twisting in plying (intriguing!!) Wraps per inch (Hmmm. Want to know more...) and Cables: Demystifying the mysterious yarn, gotta read that! All this talk of YARN And ways that they twist! I can feel the fibers spinning, sliding through my hands already! And so that's why there's several spinning contraptions strewn about my room. And truth be told, I'm glad to be spinning again. The smell of wool and the quiet whrrrr whrrr of my wheel has indeed been missed.

I know spinning wool in Thailand is insane, believe me, I do. But I had no choice. I tried using the Mr's Charkha to spin some of his cotton poonis first, but I suck at cotton. The strands are just too short. They slip right through my hands before I can get the twist into them. A pile of fluffy discarded cotton was building up pretty quickly around me. I had to bring out my wheel to remind myself that I can spin. Just not cotton apparently. Does anyone who spins cotton have any advice for me? Because honestly I don't know what the hell I'm going to do with all the merino wool I'll wind up spinning otherwise.

(On a rather weird note, every picture I managed to find of a Charkha spinner the person seems to be rail thin. I found a clip of Ghandi spinning, the guy on this page is thin and The Mr. who is skinny as a pole seems to have no trouble at all spinning with it either. Hmmm.. can I blame my ample figure for my spinning suckiness? Please?)

Home

It's well in to the dry season here in Thailand. A dry hot wind is making this old house creak and groan tonight. It's a good house to be in in this hot humid weather, windows all around to let in the wind, and high ceilings so the air can circulate. My grandfather built this house and 5 generations have walked it's rooms so far. I've never written down how much I love this house with it's ancient shutters and teakwood floors polished with generations of footsteps. Everywhere I go I know that this house is waiting for me with it's ageless shadows, waiting for me to come home.