A Day in the Life of Sachi

While packing, it occurred to me that many of you would love the humor in these candles. In case you’ve never seen it where ever you happen to live, prayer candles are available for all the hispanic Catholics here in LA. These prayer candles are more my speed.

Something that I will miss about LA is the ability to get Asian foods at the local grocery store. I’m 1/2 Japanese and so, the majority of the foods I cook are Japanese. Korean stores have a lot of Japanese or foods that are similar to the Japanese and Chinese cuisine I grew up with.

Most of you have had some experience with the bizarre lables found on Asian foods. The Japanese have a great fondness for simply throwing English on a lable for the coolness factor rather than paying attention to what the words actually say. Another thing that they love to do is abbrieviate terms and words in a manner that English speakers would never do.

So I will miss going to the local Korean market and reading the lables as well. Here are some of the most recent that I came home with because they just make me laugh.

I don’t know about you, but this sort of name calling is just not something I need when I’m shopping. BTW, the cookies kick ass.

This is possibly the most digusting sounding thing ever. However, it is also one of my favorite drinks ever.

“So… You want a cookie?”
“Na….”
“But look. These are the upgrade.”
“Na….”

First of all, butter and lemon only belong together on chicken or shrimp… Not on desert cookies.
“Feel it. Enjoy it and fall in love with it.” Wow… I didn’t know treats were worthy of such…. affection.

I actually suspect that these are not the world’s original chocolate pie. Somehow Moon Pies come to mind. But the English is pretty damned funny.

Seriously… bad English is one of my pet peeves. If you’re going to sell your things in the American market, wouldn’t you think you could come up with the money to pay a native English speaker to proof your stuff? I realize that this isn’t horrible English, just poorly choosen manner. But it makes me nuts. I feel like going over to Japan (although I think this product is Korean) and smacking all the English teachers silly.

I have to share some of my favorite Japanese-isms with you some day. Although I’m sure Isabel could certainly share some great ones!

“Come on, man! Get that thing out of my face! I’m sleeping, here!”

Most of you don’t know about my other side. Yes, I have a split personality.

Y’all know me as Sachi. My middle name is Sachiko. My first name is Audrey.

Audrey is a sensible, thoughtful, careful individual. Always the professional, proper lady. Audrey has never done anything wild or crazy in her life. She’s always taken the high road and has stayed level headed in any situation.

Sachi is a crazy, slightly on the edge hip-chick. She’s had blonde, purple and red hair, all in a period of 6 weeks. She wears skirts that are too short out to gigs that are in areas no one goes after dark. She wears crazy lipstick and wacky jewelry. Sachi makes friends easily. She’s outgoing, exciting and a little… not normal.

Audrey is a hermit. She sits quietly on her sofa at night to knit. She cooks dinner at a decent hour. She loves her husband and bends to his every need.

Sachi wants to go out drinking. She wants to ride roller coasters. She has a whirlwind love affair with a gorgeous, sexy drummer.

Audrey was a good student. She was an easy child to deal with.

Sachi was overly independent and had a tattoo by age 19.

For a very long time, Sachi and Audrey had to stay apart for the sake of sanity. Audrey would come home from work and want to cry and scream at the walls. When Sachi took over, she was much happier. Sachi helped her keep from taking out the day’s stressors on the ones she loved.

The last month, being out of work and doing whatever the hell I feel like when I feel like it has started to blur the line between these two personalities. So much so that I’m starting to wonder if Audrey will start wearing racy clothing or if Sachi will sit down and do the accounting. I don’t know where this will lead but I’m starting to think I like this little merging of my two halves.

Aaaaaa!!!! No worries. M’s laptop will be up and operational so no trouble there. I’ll be able to do some posting in the meanwhile.

A small warning here. This is going to be a long post.

I know that many of you have chosen not to read my “Guaranteed to Make You Cry” series and I have to say that there’s a big part of me that’s thankful that you’ve made that choice. It’s a story that I feel the need to tell but I find it somewhat uncomfortable to talk about such things. Not because it’s hard to talk about but because it doesn’t define me. I’ve had a lot of bad things happen to me in my life. This was certainly the worst. But they don’t define me; not any one thing individually anyhow.

Why am I telling the story? Partly to help my friend who is going through tough times. But mostly because leaving this house, the house I’ve lived in for 8+ years, is leaving a very large, dark chapter in my life behind. I feel the need to have my story told in full before I lock the door one last time. It will help me leave the darkest of memories behind and to take only the most lovely times with me in my heart. All the reasons came to me in a flood while I was packing and I found Tom’s wallet. It was a shock to my nerves that I didn’t expect. I’m surrounded by his things but this was very personal. It was the thing he had with him every day without fail, right down to the picture we had taken of us together upon our engagement. Now I know that I have to leave these demons behind me or I’ll never fully recover.

Now, on to less serious things…

Coke Black: Have you tried it? If you’re a Coke fan and a coffee fan, you MUST try it! It tastes like coffee nips with carbonation. Just finished my first one and I’m really loving this stuff.

Oh. Good idea to stop reading here if you’re squeamish about bugs.

Do you remember I mentioned a moth a few days ago? A moth that kept me up until nearly 5:00 AM? Yeah. Well, this was the true Mothra.

I was minding my own business, goofing off on the web (when I should have been packing) at about 1:00 AM. I figured I’d go wake up poor M who’d fallen asleep on the sofa and drag him to bed. I round the corner from the hallway to the living room and it’s totally dark except for the light from the TV. I see something fluttering in front of the TV and my first thought is that it’s a bat. My heart starts pounding and I lock all the animals in the bedroom. I creep back into the living room to turn the lights on so that I can see what the hell this thing is. I’m trying to wake M up without jarring him awake as I’m reaching for the pull-string on the ceiling fan lights.

I see now that, whatever it is, it isn’t a bat. But it’s coming straight for me as I’m pulling the string. Much shrieking occurred at this point. So much for waking M up gently. But it turned out to be OK because he woke up swinging; swinging with the pillow at the flying thing. He hits it about 3 times but it keeps coming back for more. I’m flailing at this point, on the edge of crying because I don’t want this thing to hit me in the melee. Oh, yeah. I’m screaming too.

The thing flies off into some corner behind a bunch of heavy boxes we’ve packed. M mumbles something about having turned the lights out so that it would come look for the TV. I’m thinking to myself, “Thanks for the effing warning, Jack!” Then he says something about an “Atlas Moth” and I start freaking out inside. Atlas moths, to my knowledge, are the worlds largest powdery-winged, flying thing. Now, I’m obviously not worried for my wool or anything but, how the hell do you sleep knowing THAT THING IS IN YOUR HOUSE!!!?????

I shut off all the lights again, against my better judgment. I tell M to give me a holler if it comes back. I don’t want to witness one of the cats or the poodle catching at eating this thing so I want to catch it and release it myself. *shudder* I retreat back to my web-surfing in the bedroom. Many of you had posts from me at 3 or 4 AM. That’s why.

I start Googling moths. Atlas moth? Thank god, no. I saw a pic of one sitting on some guy’s nose and it’s wings totally hid his face. Oh, thank god, no. So then I come across a database of moths in California. Not knowing where to start, I start scrolling through the list until I find “Hawkwings/Sphinx moths”. Of course this thing’s a Hawkwing! It’s enormous! Not as big as a hawk, granted, but it could certainly have been mistaken for a small bird. OK. Maybe it wasn’t that big either. But it was huge. (Don’t worry. Pics are coming up.)

I have delicate, glass windchimes hanging in my living room. They are a specialty on my Grandmother’s island in Japan and she gave these to me the last time I saw her almost 8 years ago. They hang in my living room because I’m terrified they’ll be broken outside.

So, there I am, surfing away, posting in blogs, killing time. About 4:30ish, I hear the chimes tinkle. I’m telling you that, at this moment, my blood ran cold. I ran from the bedroom, shutting the critters in behind me. I poke my head around the corner and whisper to M, “Hey… it’s back… I heard the chimes…” as if the damned thing is going to hear me and come after me or something. He sits up right after the thing flitted down next to the TV.

Now, I’m being totally serious here. If you are bad with bugs, perhaps don’t read any further.

I flip on the light and I don’t see it immediately. I slowly creep across the room, expecting it to fly at my face at any moment. I confess that, were it a bat, I wouldn’t have these issues. Bats don’t fly into you. They know where you are and they avoid you. The fact that moths don’t seem to have any directional sense gave me the willies.

There are a bunch of boxes (not yet taped together) in the general area of where this thing is hiding. I slowly grab a box and, as I pull it back, I duck… just in case. I repeat this about 10 times when, to my horror, a black widow appeared. Or rather, I revealed a black widow. While I was physically very still at the moment, I did a lot of “OMG, ew, ew, ew! Holy shit, I think I’m going to plotz!” I creep my way back across the room to grab a flip-flop with which to dispatch the bugger. I have to swing at this thing at an odd angle and I’m thinking that, when I swat it, the moth is going to come flying out at me. So as I’m bending down to get a good swing at the black widow, I happen to look to my left. And there it is.

Have you any idea how difficult it is to stifle a Bejesus Dance? Now, I have to kill the black widow and risk this HAWKmoth getting tangled in my hair. (I feel the need to point out that M is sitting on the couch at this point, watching it all from a safe distance. Hrmph.) So I kill the black widow and grab my camera, of course.

I trap it easily (thank god) and enlist M’s help in taking pics. As it turns out, this is a Carolina Sphinx moth. You know those ugly, green, horny worms you find on tomato plants in the garden? That’s them. No wool eating here. Just nightshade family plants.

M comments on how you can feel the weight of this thing fluttering around inside the glass. It really was heavy. I mean, as far as moths go. Check out this next pic. That’s my hand.

So, M takes this thing to release it out the back door. I’m standing at the door and he flings the thing out of the glass. I couldn’t believe this thing! It turned around and headed straight back toward the door. I flinched hard, despite my best efforts. I freaked out and flinched so hard that I shut the door on M. No, I don’t mean that I shut M outside with this thing. I mean that I shut the door ON M. He wasn’t happy. I tried unsuccessfully to explain that this brush with death had me jerk so hard that I hit the door and, you know, he was sort of in there.

So now that I’ve sufficiently ensured you will all have moth nightmares tonight, I’ll leave you with a pic of Halley using Luna as a pillow.

By March 2001, Tom was recovering well from surgery. He celebrated his 35th birthday at the end of March. There was much chocolate.

Tom had escaped certain death. Not only that, but he was also told that there would be no radiation therapy or chemotherapy. The decision was made that radiating his brain could cause more trouble than the risk of cancer recurrence. They told him that they were confident that he had a 90-95% probability of never seeing that nasty thing again. Sitting there, in that doctor’s office, he literally clapped and cheered at the news. I cried a little.

Here’s the part where you turn away if you’re squeamish.

The doctors had left a gaping hole in his skull. They advised that they would wait for at least a year, possibly two, before replacing the skull piece. The reasoning was, if it came back, they had easy access. Smart move, in my opinion. So, yes, he looked like someone had whacked a chunk out of his head. But for many months, he just looked a little odd… nothing severe. Like if you were a stranger, you could tell that something was peculiar but you couldn’t tell what it was.

We spent the summer doing some road tripping around California. Death Valley was one of our favorite places. Also, we went to some tide pools near Monterey. Tom spent this time rewarding himself with Frappuccinos and chocolate. He was playing his music again. He added a old song back into the set list. It’s called “Man Machine”. It had a very deep significance to us now.

“I am incorruptible.
I am infallible.
I can shape the earth with my hands
I can change the world with my plans
I am a man machine.”

By September, we’d settled back down into the daily grind. Tom had returned to work. He was permitted to drive again. All was well.

On September 10th, we’d gone to bed with plans to celebrate our 2nd wedding anniversary by going out for a swanky dinner. We’d been through so much the last 10 months and we deserved a treat for making it through without killing each other.

At 6:30ish, we awoke to the phone ringing. It was most certainly an emergency of some kind. Why else would someone call us so early? It was Tom’s mom. He didn’t really say anything that I can remember. I was still a bit groggy. He just walked to the TV and turned it on. I saw smoke billowing out of a sky-scraper. My heart started pounding. I didn’t know where it was. Then I saw a plane fly into the other tower. I believe it was a replay but, at the time, I didn’t know that.

We were in our pajamas but horribly awake. We stood in the living room, staring at the TV watching replay after replay of the second plane hitting the second tower. By this time, I knew it was New York. By this time, I knew that another plane had hit the Pentagon. I immediately thought of a childhood friend who works in Intelligence for the Army. (I found out later that he was in Maine at the time.) I watched people jumping from the towers. I saw two people holding each other as they fell. I was so in shock at what I saw that I didn’t move or cry or speak.

Then I watched the tower fall. I screamed. The first time in my life that I can ever remember screaming from horror or pain. I stood there with my soul crying out loud. I’ve never felt such a thing in my life. It was as though my soul had a million pieces to it and hundreds of thousands of those pieces died in that moment.

I received a phone call from my boss telling me to stay home. We worked near the Federal Building in Westwood, Los Angeles. Not all the planes had reached the ground and they weren’t taking any chances. I don’t remember much of this conversation but I wept openly; something that I do not do with people at work.

The second tower fell. I remember I was on my knees on the living room floor. I might have fallen there. I don’t remember. My husband was on the couch behind me, sobbing quite hysterically. We didn’t know anyone in New York, outside of business anyhow. But we knew that, given the likely death toll, we knew someone who knew someone…

The clouds of smoke and debris were engulfing people as they ran. A camera man turned around to point his camera toward the debris cloud and, as hundreds of people were swallowed by the grayness, I could not help but think I’d just watched several hundred people die in that instant. I vaguely remember Mt. St. Helens erupting and that is what I felt it was like. How could they have survived that?

I could go on for ages about how I felt that day but I know that I don’t need to. I know you all felt the same things, the same way that I felt them.

All day long, we had 4 TVs on in the house. Living room, bedroom kitchen and garage. We had the radio on in the bathroom. We were too scared to turn it off, as if people’s lives depended on our listening to every word. At some point around 1AM, I’d decided to try to sleep since I would have to work the following morning. I looked at the clock and it dawned on me…

“Happy Anniversary, honey,” I said, with no particular emotion in my voice. We’d missed our anniversary. Those bastards stole our anniversary. Those cowards ruined my special day. It was MY day, dammit! A celebration of MY fairytale wedding, forever ruined because I would always remember how much the world suffered on that day. I would never again be allowed to feel joy on that day without it being tainted by remembering how my whole body ached at the destruction I saw.

The moral of this portion of the story is, no matter how much you hurt for your own life, you often hurt more for the lives of others; even the lives of complete strangers.

For my new fellow-spinner homies, check out this sampler bag. I advise picking up a sampler package such as this to test out each fiber. There are many more to try but this is a really good start. FYI, I’m told that Blue Faced Leicester (BFL) is a great fiber for beginners. I know that I enjoy using it.

Here are some various links for you to help you on your way. Don’t forget Jason!!! He’s a great resource. Just watching him spin will help your head. Watch as many people spin as you can. It will help you find your own style when you are eventually ready to drop and spin.

• Pre-drafting your fiber! Important for your sanity! (Don’t forget to read the stuff before the video. That helps.)
• Starting a leader. Althought I think you’ve got that part figured already.
• Park and draft spinning. This is how I started and it seems to be working for you guys right now.
• Winding on. Also important for your sanity.
• Checking the twist. Remember that, the less twist, the softer the yarn in the end. It helps to spin 10 or 20 yard lenths with the same fiber but a different amount of twist. Then you set the twist and knit a swatch. This helps you get a feel for what you want in the end.
• Setting the twist. This link makes it sound like you only need to set the twist if your yarn is unbalanced. That’s not the case. You should set the twist on everything. As Miss Kendra pointed out last night, it makes the yarn bloom.
• Inchworm Draft. When you’re ready to drop and spin. This is a method I used in the beginning (like a week ago ). The inchworm draft is used to make “worsted” yarn. Worsted, meaning the method used to pinch off of your fiber, not the weight of the yarn. I watched this video like 30 times before I had my first successful drop.
• How to Drop Spin Warning: This link has loud audio.
• Spindlicity is a great resource. It’s edited by Janel, the gal who sold me my wheel. Here’s a great article on the physics of a drop spindle which will help you choose a new spindle in the future. Also, when you’re ready to get a new spindle (perhaps a lighter one to spin two singles, smaller than you’re spinning now, to ply together and make like aran weight yarn) send Janel and email listing the spindles that you’re looking at and tell her Sachi told you to ask her for advice. She’ll be able to tell you all you want to know about each spindle.

The type of fiber I’m currently using has allowed me to do what’s called “woolen” spinning. You’ve all seen images of old ladies spinning with one hand. That’s woolen. Also, you might have heard of “long draw”. That’s woolen too. When you’re ready, here’s an article that explains how long draw works. But you’re only supposed to be able do it with fiber similar to what I had and to what Miss Kendra intends to spin up. Some people do it with carded fibers (fibers that all run the same direction like what y’all were spinning last night) but I find I’m inconsistent with that and people who are well educated in spinning tell you that you can’t do it with carded stuff. I believe that’s called a “modified” long draw.

When you have a lump of left over mess after spinning your fiber, you can do something similar to “spinning from the fold”. Instructions can be found here. This is fun to do and, with some fibers like Ingeo (corn), tencel (made from plant fiber, sort of like rayon) and some bamboo, spinning from the fold is the only way to go.

The important thing to remember is that, if it works, it’s a technique. There are a million rules but I don’t like rules and neither do most spinners I know (all 5 of them. ).

Miss Kendra, I would like to recommend you spin at least another 4oz. of fiber before you do the gorgeous stuff. Also, please set the twist and knit with your stuff before you spin the other. That will help you make your fiber obey your commands. There’s some stuff at Stick & Stone that we could get for you that you can practice on before spinning the gold.

Tonight was my last night at the S&B in West Hollywood. (Insert heavy sobbing here.) I cried most of the way home although I was careful not to sob since I was driving. Laurie Ann gave me this card which made everyone go “aaaaawwwwwwwwww” and made me want to cry right away.

Then there was this package. Did I mention that I wanted to cry?

This is what was inside the package. Does this woman know me or what?

Then Monkeygurl gave me this lovely bag (one can never have too many as a knitter…) so that I would never forget my Farmers Market gals.

Of course I could never forget my Farmers Market S&B gals, but, just in case, this t-shirt was inside the bag. And look! A piglet cookie! (We’ve already eaten his ears.) *sniffle*

I was really at home tonight. I was surrounded by spinners! It seems that everyone’s been bitten by the bug. Here’s Miss Kendra, kicking ass.

Look at Uccellina’s progress! I feel the need to mention that these people have only been spinning for like 5 days!!!

Here’s Laurie Ann, who has literally only had a spindle in her hands for an hour at this point.

Here’s Jason. He’s been spinning for a few weeks which is why his yarn looks like dental floss, it’s so thin.

This gorgeous glob is apparently the reason why Miss Kendra bought a drop spindle.

I’m really, really, really sad tonight. I don’t know when I’ll get back to LA. I’m hoping as soon as November but I’m just not sure. Until I met these ladies, I didn’t think I’d ever come back. Now I know that this will be at the top of my “vacation destination” list just so that I can check back in with my girls.

…pics of my haul. (Insert evil, witch-like cackle.)

Where to start, where to start… Here’s a sort-of overview of the new stash acquisitions. This is most of it but not all of it. As always, click for a larger pic.

On the left in brown is a pound (maybe 2, I don’t remember) of Beast. Beast is a mixture of waste wool. When shearing, there is usually a second cut (the first one gives you a big “top” of fleece… think The Golden Fleece.). The second cut gets tossed into the “Beast” bag. The white stuff is “Snow Beast” and the dark blue is “Black & Blue Beast” with some tussah silk carded in. The dark stuff on top is Merino.

Close-up of the Beast. It’s super scratchy but I want to practice my long-draw and this is good for practice. I can always knit a rug. The Snow Beast isn’t anywhere near as scratchy so it might be a blanket (I’ve got 3 lbs) and the blue… well, I haven’t decided what I’ll do with it yet.

Close-up of the Merino. I’m loving spinning with this stuff on my new Dave Larson drop spindle.

It has a nice look, no?

This is “Cut Silk Top” which means that the fibers are not as long as what you might find in a silk “cap” or “hankie”. I hope that makes sense to you non-spinners out there.

This is some superwash I picked up. Red and black are M’s favorite colors. Can you believe he’s in love with the idea of this much color on his feet??? Men are usually so damned choosy but he just loves this stuff and the way it’s striping.

Here’s the other part of what I acquired. The shiny red is merino/tencel. The orangey… I forgot. But it came off of a sheep. The blue is merino. I also purchased some carbonized bamboo and another drop spindle but I completely flaked and didn’t take pics. I’ll post them soon. Maybe tomorrow.

So, that’s pretty much it for my haul from the Fiber Fest. I was able to keep it to a mild roar given the pending move. I kept reminding myself that we were moving and I didn’t need to pack yet one more thing. But this pic shows my excuse for purchasing what I did. My sewing machine is burried in there, among all that beast and merino. The perfect packing material. I’m so NOT worried about it getting broken now that it’s cusioned by all that wool.

Oh… See that purpley/whitish stuff? That was the last thing I spun before packing my wheel. Merino in Thistle.

Close-up. I had a lot of trouble with this stuff. I think I’m still not ready for merino’s short fibers. I over-spun and then I over-plied. I had a bit of a mess on my hands. Oh well. It looks pretty.

Smoosh-faced Luna.