Progress

Look! I finished something!

I knit a scarf. A simple scarf in linen stitch with Double Sea Silk I had just lying around. And it is just lovely, if I do say so. I really like linen stitch for it's texture, especially with multicoloured yarns, and it's firm fabric. I would knit scarves like this for the men or women if I were really motivated.

And it looks good.

I'm also working my way through my sock club. This installment is the Fountain Foxglove by Cat Bordhi in Twist of Fate yarn made of wool and seacell. It has a lovely sheen. These socks have a very high instep. It fits nicely but I'm not sure they're for me.

Do you like my sock blockers? They were made by a friend's brother and I just love them. They are solid with nicely finished and rounded edges and I love that they were made my someone's hands to block the socks made by my hands.

Avoidance

In an effort to avoid the Beast, I decided to make my Stink a new sweater. Everytime, every single time, I pull out my knitting, he asks me if I'm knitting him a sweater. So, I figure it's time he gets one.


He helped pick out the colours (from the stash) with significant involvement and suggestion from me. It's actually good - getting rid of stash so I have less to move. There's some Cascade in blue and a heathered brown, with a little bit of Galway Paint mixed in for good measure.

And he's excited. So very excited.

Back from the Dead

I've been sick. The kinda sick that makes it hard to get out of bed. The kinda sick that leaves you with no energy to sick up, much less knit.

I will post pictures of the few things I've managed to accomplish in the last couple of weeks. For now, perhaps you can tell me how much yarn is too much yarn to buy when you're home sick.

And be kind.

Time to Cut

I'm prepared to steek the Beast. It is all done but the cutting. And a little bit more knitting.

I can't do it yet. I'm not mentally prepared yet.

I think I will undertake it on the weekend. It's not a "weekday" activity as it were.

Wish me luck.

And send scotch.

It's back

The Beast.

Which is the size of a beast currently. Two arms were joined to the body just last night and produced a mass of yarn and cables and stitch markers.


I'm hoping to have this ready for an Australian winter. I'm under the assumption that we won't have central heat, and will be in need of a few warm woolies.

Let's Poll the Audience

I'm at a bit of a stand still. Since the excitement of the Olympics, I've been a little slack in my knitting. I decided to start my personal sock club, which has me knitting a pair of Wanida socks by Cookie A in some Claudia Handpaints. I cast on a scarf.

I find myself looking around for my next challenge and can't make up my mind. Would you like to help me?

Ok, here are the options.

A) EZ's Green Sweater

B) Coraline

C) Mystery Project

Leave your vote in the comments. Help a knitter out.

A Sweater.

Yesterday when I read the Yarn Harlot's newest post, I felt a little disappointed in myself. I don't cherish or covet any of my sweaters enough to wear it multiple times a week, let alone being my "go to" piece of wardrobe.

I LOVE the sweaters I make. I love them so much I feel like I need to save them. Save them for something special. Or when I know other people will see them. Or when I'm going to a knitting event. I keep them specially folded in my closet for special occasions (which truly are few and far between at my house).

This is not a well thought out plan.

I should cherish them by wearing them. Wearing them as much as I can (factoring in my intense vanity that does not allow me to wear the same thing two days in arow). And not wearing them just to show them off.

This morning I pulled out a sweater. And I wore it for no particular reason other than to wear it. I'm doing the same thing tomorrow. And the next day.

I'm going to cherish them. And cherish wearing them. That's why I made them.

It only took 3 years

One day, a knitter saw a pattern for knee socks that she loved. She bought yarn. She bought needles. She cast on and knit a while. And then some new pattern caught the knitter's eye and the socks were put aside. Time passed. The socks waited. More time passed. The socks were patient. They were put away in a cupboard and still the socks remained optimistic.

In the winter of 2010, the knitter pulled out the socks and finished them in what can only be called an Olympic effort. Now the socks no longer wait on the needles. They cuddle toes and swing jauntily from a bench.

The end.