Denne taske af Isager er meget smuk. Mette skriver om den her: http://knitforwardsunderstandbackwards.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-have-wanted-for-long-time-to-knit.html
Den vil jeg lave en dag...

Yesterday, I scored a giant bag of white raw wool for free. It was at "Dyregården" here in Albertslund. It was quite a monumental experience to see and touch (and smell!) this giant heap of dirty wool, while two curious young horses were watching me and Trine searching through the wool, trying to find the nice bits and avoid the wool with poo. We filled a big bag each, but you couldn't even see that we'd been at it afterwards.

I have never had my hands on raw wool before, so I am at quite a loss to how to treat it now that I have it. So Google is my friend. Turns out people in Denmark don't clean raw wool and write about it, but in English I am luckier.

So here's a list of links for future reference (for when I actually have time to clean the yarn! Mind, I have an 8 months old son, am writing a thesis and so on...)

Guides to all steps:
http://www.joyofhandspinning.com/

Cleaning raw yarn:
http://mmandmyy.blogspot.com/2007/01/dear-god-it-is-all-clean.html
http://www.rogersstark.com/wool/wool/she.htm
http://www.hjsstudio.com/washwool.html
http://www.mothering.com/discussions/showthread.php?p=11251963
http://homesteadingtoday.com/showthread.php?t=157527
http://sweetleafnotes.blogspot.com/2009/01/washing-wool-fresh-off-sheep.html
http://www.woolgrowers.org/education/wool_pdf/Wool%20and%20Fiber/Washing%20Wool.pdf
http://www.unicornproducts.com.au/unicornfibre/woolfibrewashing/washing_fibre_athome.php

I will continue this public travelling journal as my knitting journal. I am pretty obsessed with knitting, so I'll use this blog as a way of keeping track of my ideas an inspirations...

Baby underthing: Picture from blomstermagt.blogspot.com/
I think I will try to unknit this when I'm making my first underthing for my little boy. He needs to keep warm this winter, and I have loads of fingering weight yarn in pretty colours.

Ok, I have no time for computers, but!

I have to say that Rasmus and I went walking 4 days in the mountains and it was amazing! we passed a pass of 4700 meters, which was terribly hard, but the rest of it was ok. And now, pictures!

Rasmus paa toppen! look how close the ice is. It was sooooo cold up there...



mountain. We have a billion beautiful nature pictures, but I won't torture you with them...



us in front of a lago llanganuco


group photo!



and... Uh, a fruit salad I made...

Last night I dreamt of Harry Potter. I have been out walking in the mountains for four days, and despite an unhealthy level of Harry Potter obsessiveness, I haven't really been thinking about the new book. However, during this night it was full on, intensive dreaming about it.

Most of it was a blur of strange things happening, but the last dream was very significant. It was this saturday, at 17.45, but I was at home in Denmark. I was in the shop I used to work in, but they only had the book in Danish. It was only 150 pages, it seemed, and with a black and white cover, with beautiful drawings. I wanted the English version, so I tried to run to the bookshop close to the shop, but because I had been walking so much, I could run REALLY fast. However, it had been raining, and I couldn't stop, once I'd started, because it was too slippery. That was too dangerous, so I had to slow myself down by holding on to leaves and branches on the road. I eventually managed to stop myself completely, but then I was at the home of my parents, and it was too late to get hold of a copy. My mom still hadn't received hers by mail, so I had to settle with waiting until monday.

However, I then found myself, my mom and my grandmother in a beautiful, light, but mysterious, forest. My grandmother told me that she had looked on the internet looking for information about the relationship between me and Rasmus. I told her that was silly, because no one on the Harry Potter internet knew us. Then my mom got up, and pulled out a strange "plug" from a secret place in the forest. It was hidden in a sort of military style cloth/mouth coming out of the forest ground. We then walked together to this ENORMOUS mainframe computer thing, as big as a gigantic building, but built like an 80s futuristic vision of a "computer mainframe". I knew the place, I'd been there before with friends, but without knowing what it was, or why it was there. Back then I only knew that it was a secret, illegal and dangerous, yet strangely beautiful place. My mom, however, seemed to know exactly what to do. She put the plug into the computer, pressed a few buttons, and then the giant machine started... printing! a book! All over the place I saw pages rolling, while being inked. It was awe-inspiring. After a few moments, my mom sabotaged the machine to make it stop, and all over this giant machine, pieces of a book were lying there, in random order. All people present started assembling the pages to make it a coherent book, and I saw some of the pages - they all had words and beautiful black and white drawings on them. The front page was also black and white. I knew we had to hurry, though, because the people who really owned the machine somehow knew of our presence and would be coming shortly.

Then I found the very last page of the book. It contained only this sentence:

The story ends. The seer sees no further.

This dream carries enormous importance and symbolic meaning. It is also unusual to actually be able to see writing while you are dreaming, and this sentence has haunted me all day.

I realised today that I change what I wear to seem less sexy. I bought a really cute top with hearts on in Lima, but I am not wearing it here, because the one time I did, I think half of all men on the street wolf-whistled at me! And even though I have been here for ages, it still pisses me off. Please just let me walk here on the street, minding my own business. When I am just wearing my normal clothes, I don't get as many comments, which is a relief. 

There's also this really bloody annoying guy walking around on the streets, trying to sell tours. He has approached me twice while here in Huaraz. The first time I had a fever and felt really anxious, and I just wanted him to go away. The second time, which was yesterday, I was waiting for Rasmus, and he recognised me and was all "did you drink coca tea?", and I replied "I don't have altitude sickness". And then he was like "oh, I know, Danish people are very strong." And then he went on to talk about his tours. I stopped his rant and told him "I already have a tour with Quechuandes", which he duly ignored and continued listing those tours. URGH. I then tried to tell him that I wasn't interested in talking to him, but he pretended to not understand. When Rasmus came I just abruptly walked away from him, without saying another word to him. Heh, I love being rude like that to people who are rude enough to talk to me on the street like that. Seriously, if I want to buy a tour, I will go into a store and buy it. 

I like it when I chat with nice people, though, and I generally try to be very polite. I just have pet peeves of being approached in the street.

Note to self:
Do not drink real coffee (a rare treat in SA) at nine PM if you actually have any ambition to sleep the following night...

Oh well, at least I got a chance to think real hard about how I want to redecorate the apartment when I go home. And listen to sounds. And think about my stories. And think out whole entries for my blog. 

I did eventually fall asleep at four, I think. 

And now! fruit salad!

Only the big market is closed and I want strawberries. Yaarrgghh. There's a block-down of the whole country for reasons obscure to me, and it's impending my strawberry demands. Capitalism is suffering!

Yes. Ok, really maybe I am still high on caffeine. Ironic that coca-leaves are a class A drug when coffee is so much harder.

drawings:

Anatomy:


politician: