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Answers to your most pressing questions.

Such as, What does the inside of a wastewater pipe look like?

And, Is that supposed to be there?

What happens when you try to stick your Nikon down into a pipe to take a picture?


Answers: Not much, no, and see above.

Massive water backup in the studio today -- no yarn was harmed, you can sleep easy. But there was a geyser of water all over the floor.

We had to stop working, though.

And we had to call the plumber.

And we had to wait while the plumber left dirt all over my freshly swept floors.


And we had to listen to the plumber call me dear 28 times. If he wasn't so short, he would've patted me on the head while he was saying it.

Then we listened to really loud, tooth-grinding noises from the basement.

Then we held our breath while the plumber said, "Come here, I need you to see this."

I asked, "Are you sure I want to see this?" I was scared of bugs and sewage.

Then he showed me what was inside the large wastewater pipe. A large cylindrical something with a lid and a small flexible hose coming out the top. It took up most of the diameter of the pipe.


Then I tried to take a picture. It didn't work very well, the something was too far down.

Then I tried to take another picture.


So this is what it would look like to live inside a pipe.

Then I tried again.


And then I tried 53 more time to take a picture of the large, round metal object that is blocking my BRAND NEW PLUMBING SYSTEM THAT I SPENT A LOT OF TIME AND MONEY ON AND THAT I JUST WANT TO FUNCTION PROPERLY.

And then I made fun of myself for trying to get a different result by repeating the same action.

And then I said a couple of not nice things about the plumber behind his back.

And then I said, "That wasn't very nice of me."

And then I took 28 more pictures of the inside of the pipe, all of which look exactly like this




And this:


My hard drive is not pleased. It does not wish to store high resolution pipe photos.

And then I told the plumber that I would be back tomorrow morning at 8:00 so he could cut the pipe open and get out whatever is in there.

And then I posted the pictures here and answered your questions.

Thank you.

Vehwee vehwee scawee


The handle to the vehwee vehwee scawee basement. Which I don't think is scary. But some people might.

I think it's fascinating.


We have a 110 year old bluestone basement. Complete with tunnels and secret trap doors. It's a Hardy Boys mystery waiting to happen.


Except the Hardy Boys didn't have compact fluorescent lightbulbs.


This old building has had seven fires, none of them severe enough to burn the place down. But down in the basement, you can see some of the floor joists that are charred. Rather than demo the floor, they just added new joists right next to the burned ones.


My seven year old thinks he's a miner and archaeologist rolled into one, and is constantly on the lookout for fossils in the basement. I don't have the heart to tell him that he's unlikely to dig up any dinosaur bones -- it keeps him too occupied. I need the leverage. When he's being pesky I can say, Hey, you know what I REALLY need? I need someone to investigate whether there are any fossils in the basement.


This system of pipes and bells and whistles is what's making sure we have adequate hot water. Today is the first day we're testing the capacity of the system -- we'll see how it performs.



That's what someone took the time to write on the wall. There are at least three hand lettered "duck" signs that I've found so far. Which is helpful. As a tall person, I have no awareness of the location of my head, and it's helpful for me to see in writing exactly when I might need to lean forward.


When I said tunnels, I really meant tunnels.


I could probably crawl back there and pop up into someone else's store, if I were so inclined. Which I'm not.


Like many old buildings, this one is full of idiosyncratic things like windows that look into... nothing. And doors that don't... close.


If I wanted to film another installment of the Blair Witch Project, I'm sure the movie could open with this shot.

Here's why I think the basement is cool.


This is a coal chute. There are three of them down here, and they're underneath what is now a brick sidewalk. When this building still used coal heat, the delivery trucks would pull up to these chutes and shovel it down into the basement. Now they're all rusty. But I like that they're here.

And now, when someone writes the history of this building, we'll be a part of it. I like that too.

Things I think are fantabulous.

Despite my hot water woes, there is much to be thankful for. Here are a few things that I think are fantabulous.

1. A brother in law who will knock a hole in the wall of the studio and replace it with a nifty French door. One who will fly to Maryland just to drive one of your cars back to Minnesota. One who will spend dozens of hours scraping sludge off your floors, and is happy to help you.


2. A coat rack. I've lived for years with no coat rack in the studio. It's nice to have one. My purse feels right at home.


3. A jar of paintbrushes, begging to be used.


4. When spring comes early to Minnesota, and you can go for a walk in shirt sleeves on a Sunday afternoon in March.


5. Birch trees. I missed them.


6. Seeing colorways everywhere. Right here, on this old birch filled with woodpecker holes, is Maple Vanilla:


See it? Here, I'll draw you an arrow:


I like to take the long way around.


(This blanket picture came from our rockin' Flickr gallery of finished projects.)

7. Giant fungi with velvety undersides.



8. Numbered lists.

9. Friends who knit you things and send care packages (I already drank most of the coffee and ate all the candy, both of which totally hit the spot). But these will last forever:


No, you can't have them. They're mine, all mine.



Coming soon.

You know what else will be fantabulous? When I have hot water. That will be super duper fantabulous. I'm sure it will help me speak standard English with more aplomb. Next time you read this blog, it will be full of thees and thous and forsooths. So there.

I don’t have a picture.

I don't have a picture of anything exciting because the only thing going on around here is bad exciting, not fun exciting or exciting exciting.

Bad exciting = up and running for two days, no hot water. Water heater bad. Needs help. No picture of Bad Hot Water Heater.  It not deserve picture.

Bad exciting = endless meetings with plumbers trying to get Bad Hot Water Heater fixed.

Bad exciting = bad posts with no pictures. Yarnista not happy with the bad exciting. Customers not happy with the bad exciting. Husband not happy with the bad exciting.

Bad exciting take away grammar and cognition. Bad exciting bad.


Take a gander at this…


That is what you think it is.


That is really steam. There is really yarn in the pots.


And if I'm not mistaken, I am really typing on a computer that's connected to the internet.

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