Let’s take a vote.

All those in favor of the studio getting internet after two weeks without it, say aye.

All those opposed, go find something else to do.

Please send all your GET THE INTERNET UP AND RUNNING IN THE STUDIO energy our way! I am hopeful that tomorrow might be the day!

Thank you for your patience, I promise I'm not ignoring you.

-- Y.

Updates.

The floor is done being scraped. For now.



The ice is melting on the Lake.



The sun has been out for almost a week.



Our new building is lovely.



The knitting books have a new home.



The yarn winders are poised to come out of hibernation.



I have some yarn left for Carpe Yarnem.



I still lack the internet.

My hands are healing.

I'm happy to be here.

The plumbers are still not finished.

I'm itching to fire up those dye pots.

I think this is a lesson in patience.

The break area and snack bar are all set up.

My fancy coffee machine broke in the move.

How are all of you? I miss you.

I can barely type this…

...because of the blisters.



I think I have about seven. Two of them started from gripping the steering wheel too tightly as I drove 1200 miles this week. The other five came from the manual labor I've been doing since arriving at the studio.

We did make it safely to Minnesota, thank goodness. More on that story another time. Today, a couple of studio updates. Still no internet or computer there, bear with me.

When we decided to take this 110 year old building, we knew it needed some TLC. But it turned out to be reconstructive surgery, not just a little pampering. In addition to the month of work put in by a team of contractors and family members, we've been working nonstop since arriving just to get one section of the Enchanted Forest in usable condition.

When we arrived, we found some beautiful paint colors. We didn't have much time to sit and stare, as there were trucks blocking the driving lane that needed unloading.





Cast your eyes onto the middle section of this floor:



Just to give you a better idea of what needed to be reconstructed:



This is not just an ugly, eyesore of a floor. This is practically unwalkable, certainly a safety hazard. 110 years ago, the people who built this building installed pine hardwoods. In the 1950s, someone thought it would be a good idea to install linoleum directly on top of the hardwoods. And then when people tired of the linoleum, they decided to staple plywood directly on top of the linoleum. And then they put lunchroom tiles. And then on top of that, carpet glue and carpet.

Someone then decided it would be interesting to rip up the carpet and see what was underneath. They took a couple of whacks at it with a scraper and a crowbar. They saw exactly how much back breaking work it would be to get all of the layers of floor off, and they just left it. I don't know who this person was. I would like to show them my blisters. And I'm sure the three other people who've been helping me would like them to spring for a massage for their backs and some salve for their hands.

In case this ever happens to you, here are the steps involved in removing 60 years of flooring.

1. Rip up carpet.

2. Pry off chunks of plywood subfloor with crowbar.

3. Scrape off layers of adhesive to make sure everything is nice and uneven.

4. Leave for two years.

5. Research what will remove all of this crap off your floor, discover that flooring adhesive in the 1950s was not nearly as water-soluble as what is made today, and that your best bet is to get the floor really wet with water and soap to soften everything.

6. Get down on your hands and knees.

7. Wonder why there is not a machine that will do this for you.

8. Use a 4" razor scraper to begin scraping the layers off the floor.

9. Realize that you're barely marring the surface with your industrial scraper, and that this will take a lot of time, a lot of elbow grease, and a lot of water.

10. Get more buckets of water and soap. Kneel back into the 1/4" of water standing on the floor that is now mixing with contractor grime and 60 year old adhesive and turning into a brown sludge.  Scrape some more.

11. Squeegee off the floor periodically to get rid of the sludge. Shovel up garbage cans full of black goo.

12. Dump 900 more gallons of soap and water on the floor.

13. Cry quietly to yourself.

14. Muck around in the muck, scraping all the while.

15. Give up and just accept that your clothes and shoes will be dripping wet all day, and that they will stand up on their own when dry.

16. Take pain killers for your knees, neck and back.

17. Scrape.

18. Scrape.

19. Scrape.

20. Enjoy some of your handiwork.



21. Go back tomorrow and do it again.

22. Go back the next day and do it again.

23. Post some pictures on your blog so that people know you aren't dead and that you still care about them.

24. Thank God for the independent coffee house that's 1/2 block from the studio where they already know your name. Otherwise, you probably would've fallen into a deep coma right there in the brown muck.

25. Thank God for all the people willing to help with steps 6-22.

This is it!

This is it! My last day here in my studio and my house. Tomorrow we're off to big adventures in American Siberia -- wish us luck!

-- Yarnista

Some enchanted evening…

Some enchanted evening

There will be lemongrass and wine

Some enchanted evening

The mermaid treasures will be all mine

Told you I was talented.  Especially poetics. Poetics are my strong suit.

The theme for the main workroom is Enchanted Forest. Doesn't that sound like a grand place to work? I think so. That's probably why I'll be working there.



And what good is a little Enchanted Forest without a little chlorophyll? Deep grassy leafy foresty green.



I came, I saw, I liked this one best.

The wall behind the sinks will be this color -- I'll get to look at it all day. If there can't be windows over the sinks, at least there will be a hint of the outdoors.

The opposite wall will be wine barrel brown. A warm brown with an auburn undertone.



The wine barrel isn't quite as saturated as it will be in real life -- you can see that it needs a second coat of paint. To round out the Enchanted Forest, we'll paint the front and back walls a strong lemongrass color. I love lemongrass as a spice and now as a paint shade. It will be a crisp counterpoint to the leafiness and the barkiness of the Forest.  I threw in Mermaid Treasure for good measure -- you can get a better idea in this picture of one of the main wall colors in Irish Sea, the other side of the studio.

And hey, I have three days left here in Maryland. I'm totally packed and ready.

And also, I am a size 0 petite with raven locks and chocolate eyes that dance with lightning on a midsummer's eve.

If I keep repeating it, it will come true. If I keep repeating it, it will come true... right?