Today
By the way, this is today:
It’s the first snow of the season.
By the way, this is today:
It’s the first snow of the season.
We’re back, and I’m finally catching up with the blog. It was a full sprint for the first couple of weeks after we walked in the door, and then—joy of joys—we lost phone and Internet for two full weeks.
Telenor is the carrier, and after two weeks of negotiations and broken promises, I’ve come to a conclusion. Specifically, I’ve decided that the problem is not the employees. At least, not generally. There was an exception. One individual hung up on DH when he called to see if we could pick up the modem they were requiring we get, and when DH began to ask also why no one had called us to tell us that there would be no one coming out for a service call even though they knew that there was someone (me) sitting there waiting for them—riiight. Apparently the fellow didn’t want to be reminded about concepts such as professionalism or customer service and decided to hang up. Clever, eh? And DH never even got to ask about the silly modem. (Which, incidentally, turned out to NOT be the problem.)
Generally speaking, though, the employees are polite and do want to help. The problem is that the system in which they’re working is chaotic, ineffective, and prioritizes the company rather than the customer. They have the worst customer tracking system of any company I’ve seen in decades, and other sections—sections which are more concerned with company expenses than customer service—are permitted to override the technical section. That’s problematic since it’s the technical section which makes the first evaluation of a problem. If the technical section can look at their own systems and see, for instance, that the problem appears to be a break in the line and NOT the modem, then it should not be possible for another section to decide they’re going to require you get a new modem instead of sending out a service tech two days later and while you’re sitting there waiting for said service tech.
The more we worked with Telenor, the more I found myself convinced of one thing: Telenor’s administrative procedures and internal data systems frankly suck. They need a major overhaul—and they need training for their people, and then followup on that training. Their slogan is that they’re trying to improve, but without completely revamping their system and processes, I genuinely believe they’ll never be anything other than mediocre, and will never portray any interest in or concern for their customers.
Was I frustrated? Obviously. Was I ticked off at the fellow who hung up on DH? Absolutely. That individual should have been reprimanded. But again, the fact that it could happen demonstrates a lack of professional training for the company’s employees—and no followup. While I can blame the employee—and yes, he should have known better—this is the company’s problem.
These kinds of things bother me. Customer service is not rocket science. It should be common sense. In many places, however, it is not. In Norway, it’s a developing concept. Norwegians are simply not accustomed to good customer service. Neither have they felt they could demand it, and here I think a colleague nailed the problem: Norwegians come from a history of purchasing from or receiving services from a single source which had no competition (e.g., a state-sponsored telephone company). Until fairly recently, it was a poor country, and what was available was all there was. There were no options. Neither was there motivation for companies to improve themselves; why should they, when the customer wasn’t going anywhere?
That’s changed. Now there are choices, although not as many as I’d like. And, I can honestly say that I’ve seen a difference even in the past ten years. Young people and those who’ve experienced good customer service outside the country are bringing those standards and expectations home with them, and people in general are beginning to demand a bit more. People are beginning to feel they have a right to complain—and are actually doing so on occasion.
I’m proud of them; it’s taken a lot for them to reach that point.
But there is still a long way to go.
On a more cheerful note, a few things made it back with me. Quit laughing; you knew there would be something!
There were actually several things, but you’ll forgive me if I dole them out a little at a time. ONE of those things, however, I really want to show you now. Remember this?
Remember my telling you that it was being used in a project? And I think I eventually also told you it turned in the Tudor Stole in Miriam Felton’s new book, ? Scroll down on that link page and you’ll see Miriam’s professional photos of the completed projects—including this Tudor Stole.
Well, guess what has now come back home.
The pattern is easy to follow and to knit, assuming you have two functioning grey cells. I didn’t at the time, and poor Miriam had to undo and reknit one of my borders. I tried to use all the yarn, but let’s get real: the thing currently measures in at 18 inches wide and 8.6 feet long in its resting state. And therein lies the key to something I’d thought when I was knitting it . . . I want it wider.
My gut feeling when I was knitting was that it was going to be narrower than I wanted, and I came within a hair’s breath of ripping it back and starting again. Were it not for the fact that I’m the world’s slowest knitter and that Miriam had already waited an eternity, I’d have done it. Had I had more time and energy and focus, I’d have done it. If and when I knit this pattern again, I will do it.
See, here’s the thing. If you’re short or petite, then you don’t really need a wide stole. If you’re taller or, well, not petite, then you need the extra width. In this case, the current pattern configuration works beautifully if you want a scarf—or you’re short/petite. If you’re normal and want a stole, and you want that stole to fit comfortably around your neck and still go past the small of your back, you want more depth. In this case, I’d recommend doing half again the number of repeats.
Note that the middle portion of the stole—that honeycomb bit—is incredibly elastic, which means that some of the weight of the stole will help expand that depth a little. While my example was knitted in a heavy laceweight yarn, I have a feeling that this pattern would work very well indeed in a heavier yarn. Increase the width and shorten the length (considerably), and you’d have a perfect mid-weight stole rather than a scarf. Knit the pattern as it is and in laceweight, and you’d have a scarf which will do beautifully to keep your neck warm against a winter chill. Knitted in a glittery or glamorous lace or fingering weight and with the added length, you’d have the perfect accessory to that special evening dress.
It’s good to see it home.
Natural Bridge park (or is it a monument?) in Alabama—the longest natural bridge east of the Mississippi.
And yes, that’s DH for scale under the arch.
I’ve been playing catch-up again, and I just realized I haven’t updated the blog. Since I’m about to go offline for the coming month, I also realized I’d better do that sooner rather than later.
On a work front, I’m trying to meet deadlines and get things settled for 10 course sites which will go online in a couple of weeks. I’ve done what I need to do for 4 of them, and have my own and 5 support sites left to settle. And I have until Monday.
On Tuesday, DH and I have a vacation, and we’ll be stateside to see family and friends and play tourist for little while. In other words, I need to get those sites settled before we leave.
And in other other words, don’t fret if the blog goes quiet for the next four weeks. I have work that needs to be done on the last couple of days of the month, but I’m otherwise planning on shutting down the machine and staying mostly offline for the break.
On a fibery front, the last few weeks have been mostly focused on work, but there’s been a little fibery progress.
First, the Gotland/Karakul/Rambouillet cross is finished, and is about to become travel knitting. I’m rather pleased with it. There are roughly 900 yards of a fingering weight 2-ply, and I decided I wanted it in a nuanced olive green.
The yarn has a lovely silky handle, and a subtle shine, and it’s going to make a terrific lace shawl. Which one, you ask? Oh, please! As if I know! But I’d better figure it out in the next 48 hours so I can at least be sure to pack the right needles!
And we’re making progress on Matteus. Remember the Shetland lamb?
It is starting to look like this:
The color is warmer than the photo shows, so rather than grey it’s a lovely oatmeal. I’m spinning it at a very soft, low-twist, DK o light worsted weight with the intent to do a , but I may have to reduce the grist in order to get the yardage I want. Or I can just spin it and make something warm and cozy and do a Sleeves in your Pi with the next one.
There’s a standing joke in the spinning community which seems to be true for me these days. Someone asks a spinner what she’s doing. ”
Spinning,” she replies.
“What are you going to make?” asks the uninitiated observer.
“Yarn,” she says, and grins.
“No, I mean, what are you going to make? You know, with the yarn?”
“Make something? I have to make something? I’m making yarn. What more do I want?” she asks, with wide-eyed innocence.
And never ask a spinner what that particular fiber is for when she buys it. Or, if you do ask, be prepared for the frequent response, “I have absolutely no idea.” And when we tell you that? Don’t get annoyed with us, because the reality is that we genuinely have no idea. Sometimes we go into a fiber knowing precisely what it’s going to be when it grows up. For instance, given the lock structure and the shine and the smaller amount, this fiber simply had to be lace. Very very often, however, we’re spinning for the joy of spinning, for the learning, for the therapy, for the art, for the relaxation, for the craft, for the process, for the creativity, for the spiritual renewal, and for the end result. Do we actually have to do anything after that?
When we do—if we do—well, that’s just gravy.
Say hello to the latest arrival:
Polwarth. From of Tarndwarncoort. I’ve been wanting to compare American bred lines of some of the breeds I like with Australian lines of those fleeces, and this is the start to that. Interestingly, even though the crimp count is the same as the Am-bred Polwarth I’ve tried, this fleece feels softer and has a definitely more silky feel.
The fleece measures in at about 23-24 microns with a lovely handle, and Wendy was a pleasure to deal with—and I’ll cheerfully go back to her next year.
I haven’t fully unpacked the fleece yet—I don’t dare until I’m ready to work with it or I’ll never finish what I need to do before Tuesday—but what I see is very clean. The locks are about 5.5″, with 9 crimps to the inch, and I can’t touch it for the next four weeks. The good news, of course, is that fiber doesn’t expire. It’ll be here waiting when I get back.
Hello, my name is Rhonna and I’m a fiberholic. Are there cookies at these meetings?
The Tour de France finished yesterday, and so did the Tour de Fleece.
I am absolutely and totally amazed at what we can accomplish when we have a support group, and how much it can turn out to be when we aren’t checking our progress every five minutes. It’s rather fun to look back after a longer period of time and see a small pile of completed (or mostly completed) results rather than a single yarn.
From left to right, there’s
The white G/K/R skein on the right has not yet had its finishing bath, and I’ll wait to do that until I spin those remaining batts. It won’t take long, so that yarn will be done today. Then instead of just the usual bath, I’ll put it in a dye bath and finish it that way. It should come out to about 18wpi, give or take a couple, and I’m guessing I’ll end up with around 775 yards when all is said and done.
My goals for this Tour were to finish the Bond and one of the smaller batches of fleece in my stash, and the two indie fibers on the left. I nearly made that; the only thing I didn’t quite finish was the G/K/R cross, although I met the Raw Power challenge goal of spinning a pound of raw fleece. I actually managed a bit more than that in fleece-to-yarn spinning; there are 21+ ounces in the Bond, and 9.5 in the G/K/R cross.
However, even without those last three batts, that’s a total of 2168 yards of yarn in the past 21 days—and half of that is in a 3-ply yarn. Given the sheer amount of time that it takes to prep fiber and a few very low-productivity days, that’s not bad at all. The reality is that it takes about as much time to prep the fiber as it does to spin it, regardless of whether you’re combing or carding, and not forgetting flicking and diz time. I have a tendency to overlook this part of the process, I’m afraid. I tend to overestimate what I can accomplish because I underestimate how long it will actually take to comb that fleece, or flick the locks to prepare for carding, or to run the carder . . . Spinning from fleece is NOT a fast process. It takes time. But I love the process, the transformation of one form to another, and I love being able to pick up a yarn I’ve taken from fleece to yarn and say, “I did that.” How very very cool it all is.
The Tour? The Tour is finished, and I’m looking forward to it next year. But, for now, it’s done. However, as with the riders the Tour de Fleece follows, wheels will keep on spinning.