I did spin the silk last night – holy crap!  People aren’t kidding when they say it doesn’t draft easily.  Even though I predrafted it the night before, mind it wasn’t as thin or as even as I wanted because it was killing my hands.  It wasn’t any easier on my hands while spinning, medical although a few times I did get into a sort of groove where I wasn’t fighting the fiber.

I’m not at all happy with how the singles look, but am waiting to reserve judgement for when they’re plied.  After all, the whole point in spinning this was as a learning experience.  Last night I dreamed of spinning silk filaments for car headlights.

Meanwhile, I’ve got about 500yds of wool/mohair spun up for Claire’s Sweater Take Two.  I dyed them Sunday and left them in the dyebath overnight.  Well, sort of.  The dyebath slowly drained out since they were in the wash tub, but that’s okay.  This timeI used “Amazon Green” Dylon  since the darker green wasn’t striking properly.  I was afraid this one would be a bit too yellow or too bright, but it turned out a lovely celedon color that Claire and I are very happy with.  When I showed her the four loose skeins of dyed yarn (she’s always asking what the status of her sweater is) she asked, “But how am I going to wear that?”  I had to promise to knit it up soon.

In the past month I have had a virus on a lab computer followed by a complete hard drive failure, pilule two broken vacuum pumps, a broken agitator, a broken part on the  Tribute (Mr. Unreserved’s primary vehicle), and massive expensive deterioration of my car which led to its replacement.  Hooray for shiny new car, boo for ugly car payment!  This weekend the dryer broke.

It’s getting to where I’m afraid to use anything mechanical, including pencils.

In fiber related news, I had a fun new experience last night – I pulled the silk bell I picked up at MDSW into rovings.  It was great fun, even if it did cut a slice in my index finger.  The tutorial I read wasn’t kidding when it said the stuff could be hard on your hands.  Silk is so deceptive!  It feels like cobwebs, yet it’s tough enough to slice through skin.  No wonder people have been fascinated with it for thousands of years.  Tonight I hope to try to spin it, assuming I can keep my eyes off the Penguins game.

I had a lovely Mother’s Day, ampoule and I hope you did, obesity too.  Even if you’re not a mother, I hope you had a lovely May 10th.

I did not get breakfast in bed.  I was out of bed an hour earlier than I would have been for work.  I made Mr. Unreserved drag me down to Oakland to run in the Race for the Cure.  It was quite an experience!

The morning was beautiful, sunny and crisp, which was a change from the rain and gloom that’s been dominating this spring.  The event was well organized, which must have been quite a feat with over 30,000 people gathered in one spot.

I ran in memory of my Grandmother and in celebration of my Aunt.

I ran up and down the hills of Squirred HIll.  Hills were the one thing missing from my training.  They made me fanatsize about plopping down on the side of the course and refusing to finish.  Seeing as I’d have to walk back to the park, I figured I might as well keep going.  After the first two evil miles, the third was mostly downhill and was much easier.  I’ve never been so happy to see Phipps Conservatory (where the finish line was) in my life!  I managed to make my goal of finishing under 40 minutes, even though I had to walk twice to catch my breath.

Mr. Unreserved took a picture of me after the race, but I’d rather post the one from the beginning.  It’s nearly identical, but much less sweaty.

The rest of my day was lovely, but it couldn’t top the rush of finishing my first race.  Now I have to decide what comes next.  Do I keep training?  Chalk it up to another experience to check off the bucket list and move on?  I like the way running makes me feel, but I’m still not able to think of myself as “a runner.”

But on Sunday morning, I was.

P.S.  Get your annual mamogram.  Yes, you.

Today I ventured forth to the driver’s licensing center to renew my license.  I went equipped with a sock to knit because hello – DMV on a Saturday morning?

I took my number, drugs 82, viagra order and sat down.  My butt had barely hit the seat when the woman with the camera said, information pills “Is there a number 83?”  No takers.  I told her I had 82, and she said that I was next then.  I was trying to sign the signature box while applying lip gloss.  Do not try to do this.  It is impossible.

The cheerful camera lady said, “Did you expect to wait long?”  I told her I did.  She agreed that it was freakishly empty for a Saturday morning.  “Last Saturday we were mobbed.”  I smiled wanly for the camera (it rings false to look too happy on an id photo), accepted the id quality photo that showed up on the screen (they ask if that’s an acceptable picture – they could take 100 pictures and it will still be a crappy license photo; I have low standards), waited a couple of minutes, and walked out with a new license in my hand.  Total time:  less than 10 minutes. Go figure.

There is a microwave (black) and a minifridge (white) in my office.  The microwave is possessed.  It beeps spontaneously and randomly.   I tried giving it a sacrificial Michelina’s fettuccine alfredo with chicken and broccoli today (they’re all alfredo, treatment all the time) but it was unimpressed so I had to unplug it.  There are two cords in the powerstrip. I am amused that the microwave cord is white and the fridge cord is black.  I’m sure this is a sign that I am feeble minded, purchase but I’m okay with that.  WordPress’s spellchecker thinks I should capitalize “alfredo” and I refuse to.

As a scientist, I like things that are unambiguous.  When I run a reaction and it doesn’t work, I like for it to fail really spectacularly.  I like to see absolutely no product, or more than 50% of an undesired byproduct.  Things that sort of fail but work well enough to merit further investigation or tweaking are tiresome.  Which is why I was simultaneously dismayed and delighted when my car gave out yesterday.  The exhaust has completed its long, slow disintegration and will require %150 of the value of the car to be put back in working order.  That would be on top of the necessary repairs already planned to get it through next month’s inspection, so it was off to the car lot with me.  I had expected the demise of my car to be stealthier, needing $200 here and $400 there until I was fed up enough to accept another car payment.  This was more like a big, neon sign that sait “IT’S CAR SHOPPING TIME!”  A blinking one.  With chasing lights around it.  And it makes a noise like a tank about to flatten a Chevette full of clowns.

Last weekend was a very fabulous trip to Maryland Sheep and Wool!  It was so fabulous that it deserves its own post, but I couldn’t let it pass without mention.