Herbology: Ollivander's Wands and Hand-held Labelling Machines

This Herbology Update is brought to you by our sponsors: Ziploc bags, Dymo labels, and Oxford notecards, the Holy Trinity of cheap organizational tools.

After the last update, this project languished for a bit as I realized the enormity of the task ahead of me. Finally, my fellow Ravenclaws provided me with the three things I needed most: gentle encouragement, sage advice, and a swift kick in the butt.

The most helpful counsel came from GazeboGal, who pointed out that I did not actually need to finish frogging everything in my frog pond in order to complete the assignment. This was the part I was stuck on, and the realization that I could shove it all in a basket, stick it on the top shelf, and deal with it later freed me up to worry about more important things: like whether I was going to run out of Dymo labels.

I was.

A Dymo labeller is like a Muggle's special organizational magic wand. I swear to you, if you print out a label, the stuff in the closet organizes itself. I set to work this month and used up an entire label cartridge.

I labelled my circs...



...and I labelled my Options.



I labelled my yarn...



...and by then I had discovered the secret of the well-organized greenhouse. It really doesn't matter how messy things are; if you shove them in a bag and label it, it's organized. It's kind of like how if you just make your bed, your mom thinks you cleaned your whole room. It's a spooky kind of magic. I am convinced that Ziploc bags and Dymo labels are the secret of Molly Weasley's success.

The small WIPs got bagged, too:



These required a little more detailed label than I was willing to print on a Dymo labeller- after all, those cartridges ain't free. Instead, I went for a lower-tech solution:



3x5 notecards, recording the project name, design sources, yarns, needle size, and any other pertinent information that I am likely to forget if I put the project down for a few months. (Almost every project gets put down for a few months, so this seemed prudent.) Every project has one now, and I think I have drastically reduced my chances of getting to the second sock and forgetting where I found that strange and beautiful toe construction. (Answer: Bosnian Garter Stitch square toe, Lucy Neatby, Cool Socks, Warm Feet. It's awesome; check it out.)

Had I quit here, it would have been an amazing improvement. But I'm a Ravenclaw and therefore stubborn with a perfectionistic streak, and I was determined that I would not quit. My total lack of sewing knowledge or an unbent needle in my sewing machine did not stop me from whipping up these:



Needle rolls, rudimentary but effective, thrown together from sheets of felt and scrap ribbon. The stitching wouldn't pass muster with a four-year-old, but once they're rolled up, you really can't see the stitches (which is good, because they bring to mind the words "drunken monkey", and not in a positive context). I'm planning to work up two more rolls, one for DPNs and one for crochet hooks, and then plunk all of them into a vase to look somewhat decorative.

Less crafty but somewhat neater is this:



14" straights in an organizer. My goal is to clean out the extra needles, pair up needles where I'm missing some, and turn this into a full set of 14" aluminum needles. Just in case I need to travel somewhere where space is limited and I don't know what projects I'll have with me. What kind of emergency this would be I don't know, but it can't hurt to be prepared, right?

Even my knitting bookcase has gotten in on the organizing action:



Design notebooks and knit lit on top, pattern and instructional books on the bottom. Simply lovely.

With less than a week to go until this assignment is due, I've made excellent progress, I think:



...and now it's time to start updating my Ravelry notebook with stash counts and photos, updated WIP pictures, and needle info. This assignment has been hard work, but I think I'll be very pleased with the results when the month is over- and ready to tackle a Venomous Tentacula, just for a change of pace...

Herbology: Live from Filch's office

Today I rounded up all the yarn, needles, patterns, labels, and projects in various states of completion and chucked them into yarn jail. I dumped things out of bins and bags and threw them all into detention together, where I've half a mind to make them knit themselves as punishment. I sorted them into large categories.



Looks pretty under control, doesn't it?

Pfft. That's the picture I took before I cleared the bed, took a break, took a nap, started my DADA homework, and put away more laundry so that I could have more storage. This is what it looks like now:



As far as I can tell without shifting too many piles, this is all the knitting stuff. (Still haven't found the rogue ball of alpaca, so watch your back in the corridors.) With everything now safely imprisoned, I am left with this:



It looks so nice and neat and clean and full of potential, doesn't it? And I didn't even take a picture of the clear plastic drawers and non-Ziploc Ziploc bags I have to organize it all.

So.

Now what?

I'm not at all sure how to go about organizing this stuff. I'm going to have to work up a plan before I even begin to tackle it, because there's too much that needs to be done. And preferably get it all done before I absolutely have to crawl into bed again. Is there some kind of spell that will sort and update my stash for me? Stashinem Ravelo?

Herbology: The Great Stash Hunt

The first Herbology assignment is straightening up the greenhouse, documenting the process with before and after photos. Most students were able to sum it up in one or two pictures.

Me, I had to go on a Stash Hunt.

If I were a Slytherin and had a somewhat more casual relationship with the truth, I would just post these two pictures, which is where all the stash is *supposed* to live:





This is messy enough to get me booted out of Ravenclaw, I'm sure. But see those big empty places on the shelf? Places where you could fit a whole lot of yarn? Think of them less as being empty and more... mobile.

Some of it had only got a few feet outside the closet, probably just for some fresh air.


Some of it travelled with me for Christmas and was therefore above suspicion.


Some of it was near enough to make its protests that it got lost among the empty soda bottles plausible.


But some of it? Some of my stash clearly has plans of its own. I found some of it looking for dark corners under furniture from which to breed, plot world domination, or both.



(That's a box of vintage sock yarn and a case that should be full of stitch markers and pins. I think the Wintuk has evil designs.)

Worse, this book was getting ready to extend my stash's dominion back to North Dakota:


And some of the stash I simply haven't unearthed yet.

Hogwarts Castle, beware. There's something dangerous and unnatural roaming the corridors, preparing to turn us all into its slaves (or its dinner). And I rather think it's a rogue ball of alpaca.