...and looking outside, the weather certainly seems to know it. There was sleet this morning, and now the sun is shining again.

The local squirrels engage in chasing each other, the spring flowers are in bloom, and the cherry tree is also getting ready for some action - hopefully it will not be too early, as there's not that many bees and other flying insects around yet.

In other news, I was getting distracted by personal research stuff (some of it related to family requests) and have been eating too much chocolate. (Though probably not enough. There can be too much chocolate, but never enough.) I also have new needles that have to be photographed and put into the shop. And currently there's a bit of concern because Madame the Cat seems to be constipated, which we hope will resolve itself soon, as otherwise more drastic measures will be necessary - and nobody is fond of those, not the cat nor we.

So. On to get some actual constructive work done, such as packing up things to send to customers and then hopefully not hitting a bad weather spot when bringing them to be posted... 

(This was intended to be yesterday's blog post, but I, once more, managed to not click the "publish now" thing a second time, which is required for the thing to actually, well, publish. Yes, I am slightly annoyed about that but I do try hard to be more annoyed with the blog software in question than with myself. I can, however, with hindsight let you know that the post run was indeed dry, mostly because of it taking place today instead of yesterday. Yesterday late afternoon and early evening were instead devoted to the aforementioned more drastic measures which, to everybody's and especially Madame's actually literal relief, were successful in the end. I can also share my new insight with you that administering an enema to a cat does indeed get easier with practice, but I would have gladly foregone that insight, and the practice, and I would not feel my life would be any worse if Madame had just gone on feeling well and being able to take a (stinky cat-)shit whenever it became necessary.)

I really like to read the occasional podcast story. What I'm still getting to terms with is doing not just the reading, but also the preliminary editing - that is, cutting out all the bloopers and second takes that occur. (It's not the work time, mind you. It's having to hear to my own voice and then dealing with the automatic over-analysing of anything that might not be superduperperfect. Also hearing one's own voice from a recording really takes getting used to!)

In theory, it should be possible to read a text without stumbling over one's own tongue, right? But that's the theory. So once I emerge from the wardrobe, data all safely on the computer, it's time to cut. 

The trick is to make a short, sharp, loud sound to mark the blooper, and then to have enough silence after the "bip" so you can have a nice cut to the start of your new (and hopefully successful) attempt. If that's done consistently, it's not necessary to listen to all the recording, but you can single out the bad bits and cut them away.

I also like to use the break that will be cut anyways to adjust anything that needs adjusting, or to have a sip from whatever drink has accompanied me into my fluffy corner.

I have a new (upgraded, yay!) recording setup that now needs testing, as there's another podcast chat session planned for tomorrow, again with Kaptorga. (We didn't get around to all the things last time, so here's to another try.) 

Which means... I will now drag stuff to the closet, and see how much Madame the Cat will have to say when I'm doing test runs. Wish me luck! 

Knitting has had its moments throughout history - both regarding technology and, well, current politics. Knitting was used for codes to transmit information hidden in innocent pieces of clothing in war times. Now, there is another thing that happened because of knitting: in Denmark, new statues reminding of women who were influential personalities are being planned, all because some knitters decided they'd guerilla knit dress some of the naked female statues.

There's an article in the NYT about it, and you can read it here. 

I am, as you probably know if you are reading this, a one-person enterprise. Which means I do about all my stuff all by myself, from website design and maintenance to tax filing, from writing texts to selling stuff. And then there's workshops, conferences, and museum employments.

Unfortunately for my planning, sometimes these things tend to... clump together. Also unfortunately I have not yet really mastered the art of bilocation, and usually the things that are going to clump together are just too nice and too delicious-sounding to decline. So from time to time, things sort of... derail themselves a bit, and I get horribly behind, and it takes a while for me to catch up. Yes, this is entirely my own fault for mis-estimating things, and I do feel bad about it when it means delays in answers, or in posting orders.

Which is exactly what had happened with my recent stint of abroad adventures, which were wonderful and made me happy, but also ate up more time in the prep, the afterprep and during the events themselves that I did less than I had planned for in that time.

So, very understandably, I got some mails asking about a delay in shipping, and all I can say is that I feel very happy, and very lucky, to have customers like this. Both enquired kindly, one with the explicit mention of their understanding that a one-person show can sometimes lag behind, and the other one asking if I was okay.

This is so, so nice, and it really made me happy and feel all warm and tingly inside. I do try hard to send thing off in a timely manner, but it's just great to be treated like this when it was not possible to keep up.

So, thank you to all the people that do things like that - you are making the world a better place. 

If you're interested in the fabrics that were the reason for the spinning workshop that brought me to England, there's an article freshly out - and it is open access, so you can enjoy it without having to pay (or jump through hoops).

You can find the paper "A Visual Method to Compare the Quality and Complexity of Archaological Textiles: The Cotton Mantas of Pre-Hispanic Colombia" here.

I am off to do things - which means that I will be off the blog until March 16. Until then, I will leave you with these harbingers of spring:

...and hope that you will have a good time and enjoy some lovely weather!