two knits of ivory

(Me and the swift and winder aren't on the best of terms.) Several variables of the Evenstar project have fallen effortlessly (cough, cough) into place. One of these is the yarn I have chosen to use, Madelinetosh's Pashmina . Pashmina is a fingering weight yarn in an intoxicating concoction of 75% superwash wool, 15% silk, and 10% cashmere. I am using the Filigree colorway. How I became the owner of six skeins of this yarn is a tale as old as Christmas. I purchased a crapload of Pashmina from Kaleidescope Yarns - the most excessive being three skeins of the Filigree - on September 5, 2010. On September 11 I began an Ishbel with a skein of the Filigree and became so intoxicated with the yarn and the colorway I was moved to buy the three remaining skeins they had in this colorway. Now was three all they had left? I think so, but my memory is shit. I just remember thinking that I had to have enough of this yarn and 1080 yards wasn't enough. Not enough. 2160...

I finished my eighth(!) Shetland Triangle this weekend. No, that picture above is not the Shetland Triangle. I don't have any recent pictures. I'm not motivated to take pictures of anything lately, even the record number of yarn skeins I wound into cakes on Saturday. Instead of bemoaning my creative paucity, I've decided to fill in the blanks with an unblogged project from last year's deadspot. Last spring I knit a lovely Serenity baby blanket for my husband's best friend's first child, a baby girl. Did I mention this is a free pattern? It is a free pattern, and from the charts at least, an error free, free pattern. I really enjoyed knitting this project. And the reason's why are, what? What did I like about this project? Do I even know? Hmmm. 1) The lace was challenging but not fussy. 2) The occasional cabling was easy, and eye pleasing. 3) The yarn is Dream in Color's Classy, in the Chinatown Apple colorway. I took a big ...

I've heard through the grapevine the weather may be turning. I've been a prisoner of the heat and humidity for about a month. One month of freon filtered air can make a woman batty. So yeah, a few weeks of staying late in bed on Saturday and Sunday have been fun, but I am more than ready for the next phase of life: Fall. The name of this Malabrigo sock colorway is Primavera, which according to Merriam Websters derives from the Italian as "in the style of springtime." Me, I see the colors of Fall. (Even though I have named the project I'm knitting with it "Shetland Printemps," I think my subconscious has determined it is a bastardization of the word Printemps, which means Spring in French. What it's bastardizing I have no clue; the muse hasn't let me in on this secret.) The only plans I have for the weekend are building my KOC kingdom, knitting, sitting and breathing natural-ish air, and finally, but not leastly, becoming intimately ...

What do you call a man with no arms and no legs who happens to be hanging on the wall? Art. Or as we say in the patois of my adopted homeland , aht. What I do know, and have known, for a long, long while is that I don't know my aht from my elbow. What is aht? No friggin' clue. I only know what I like to look at. And what I like to look at is photos I take of my knitting. Or to be more accurate, photographs of things I have knit at some point this summer. I've since tucked these sleeves, knit in my favorite Jo Shark DK tweed, away in favor of some really mindless knitting: A Shetland triangle in Malabrigo sock, Primavera colorway: But to be perfectly honest I have been sucked into the vortex known as Facebook gaming, specifically Kingdoms of Camelot. Oh woe betide my knitting life.

I don't know about the rest of the raglan sweater knitters out there, but when I knit a top down sweater, there is always a lull in the knitting when I get near the point at which a) I want to take the armholes off the needles or b) the armholes need to be removed from the needles. After stewing in my knit bin for a month, I finally got up the chutzpah to go forward, knitting a few more rows before taking the arms off. After that the knitting has been full steam ahead. I love this Madtosh DK colorway, Terrarium - even more than I love her DK colorway, Cove. The yarn itself has a wonderful, plushy texture, preferable to Sundara's much sturdier, more tightly spun, sport weight. But for colors both companies have stolen equal parts of my heart. Even though Neil Young is heading into the desert (on a horse with no name) when he sings "It felt good to get out of the rain...," the phrase has married itself to this project. The colorway name, Terrarium, reach...

When I was a young'un I was entranced by multiple personality disorders. Where most children spend their time learning gender and societal normative behaviors, I was drawn to all that was non-normative. Now that I've come to see my past and present through the prism of post-trauma, I am realizing that multiple personalities are the sign of a healthy mind, not just a mental illness caused by abuse, as immortalized in popular culture by the books and movies about Sybil and Eve . I think I shall call my inner berator Mrs. Norris, after Jane's uber-bossy, illiberal, and admirably indefatigable Mansfield Park character. She thinks she knows what is best for me and up until this year, I've ceded to her all too often. When Mrs. Norris says "Complete this knitting project; you started it - now finish it." I have the good sense to question her admonition. No longer do I obey, meekly and miserably, or rebel, just as miserably. Case in point, I began a new s...

I think my subconscious is telling me to pick up some old Judy Blume books. That's the second time this spring my muse called forth a title punned from "Are you there God, it's me Margaret." So I bought more yarn. Who'd a thunk? This most recent acquisition is filed under retail therapy. I was in need and it did the trick. Five months ago I darkened my hair considerably. When I was going more natural with the color, my clothes color range was as narrow as my palate: green to blue to beige to white. These colors have been my steady companion for at least 10 years. A couple of years ago I bought my first non-blue coat, and it's just been chaos at chez yarn. Absolute chaos. Now I'm wearing PINK. Me in pink. But you know, I think pink goes great with my hair. So, I'm trying not to let ms. inner kool kat laugh in that snide, condescending way she has, making me feel 12 and inadequate, and clutching for the fortification of an all black w...

That's seven yarns. Seven iterations to express my joy, my love of my yarn, and my love of my current project (no matter how bad it turns out). I am knitting the Tea Leaves Cardigan (<--- rav link). Oh yes, you read correctly: I am knitting.From.A.Pattern. Moi. (Geesh of all the German I've ingested, I haven't learned how to say me? How can that be? Is it mir?) Mir! But true to form I am hacking my way through it already. My first hack was to replace the garter stitch with seed stitch. I love the way garter stitch feels, but I'm not that into how it looks. Garter stitch is bold, where I prefer seed stitches' coyness. I prefer to project dainty and demure rather than what I am in actuality, loud and brash. 'Tis my prerogative. I tried something new. I cable cast on in ribbing and I absolutely adore the x o x o look of this trim. On the neckline. I'll probably do a basic bind off on the wrists and body. Someday I hope to garner the p...

Many, many, many moons ago I went through a Herman Hesse phase. I devoured, rather than savored, each book of his I read. So it is no wonder that I remember very little. Only one idea I came across in his writings took root in my chaotic mind and this was the supposition by a character that the act of biological reproduction is a necessary psychological step, or evolution, for man. The narcissism of youth must make way for the selfless devotion, an all important transformative experience, of parenthood. Now that I am an adult, and a little less naive, I can plainly see all around me that birthing babies doesn't cure narcissism. My birth sure as heck didn't cure it in my family. But that doesn't mean there is no truth to Hesse's belief. I still believe in his theory even though I was never able to test it out myself. By the time I was healed enough to embrace motherhood my body no longer could provide for me. I am both proud and angry about the four years I ...

April? Just a smidge betta than March? Okay, that's laying it on thickly even for my drama llama tendencies. I'm doin' pretty darn good, all things considered. And there are considerable things iterating. I haven't been knitting much. Once I birthed the two ideas, my knitting became fun again, with the demanding task master hibernating. All I've knit upon is my latest lace paneled raglan in the darker Cove colorway of the Tosh DK. I am in no rush to finish this sweater. This is a new feeling for me. Usually I'm so sick of the sweater at this point I'm doing marathon runs to get it off the needles. What's different this time? Well, it's my latest love, this Tosh DK, and this colorway. Depending on the light the color gives off a sun bleached hue, like so: In other light (and with the vagaries of my photo editing skills) it looks to be emanating a mossy glow: No matter what color it actually is, I don't want to stop knitting with ...

March was a unique month in my life. I am not sad to see it leave. We watched the first half an hour or so of Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings on TV last night. It made me think of my attachment to size 2.00 - 2.50mm sock needles. I waxed so decisively on the lesson learned on January 17: I should stick to 2.75mms if I want to actually enjoy knitting a pair of socks. My ravelry project page indicates I started the Escape to Russet Moon Mountain socks on size 2.50mms on January 24. That is a mere seven days later. WTF? Are you there brain, it's me Morticcia? I didn't even consciously realize they were 2.50mms until I had gotten halfway through the foot bed. I kept contemplating why I wasn't as attracted to this project when the luscious Sundara sock yarn I'm using electrifies my heart and mind. And there is Bilbo, being mesmerized by the ring. But this is authorial fantasy. What, pray tell, is my excuse? My inner knitter has her own agenda? ...

I am knitting. Not a lot, but some. I finished the laptop condom last week. It is nearly perfectly sized after two felting washes: I haven't decided on whether I'm going to add a button, or some other closure device. And though I feel the nascent pull of spring cleaning my knitting WIPS, I was compelled to cast on the new Madtosh I purchased in the lighter of the two shades of Cove: The colors remind me of my hometown, Long Beach, NY. I don't usually look back fondly on Long Beach, as the dense congestion of it's streets is a poison to my constitution. But these colors? Herein lay the colors of the wet sand, the multifaceted Atlantic Ocean, and the earthy hues of the life-supporting jetties. I loved playing on the jetties. Alone. Jumping from one boulder to the next, challenging my agility while imbibing freedom with each gulp of the salty air. Or I could crawl along the beach floor and look at the myriad life forms that called the jetty home. Would ...

My mind is all over the place these days. One minute there's some funneh , the next there's national socialism . These are the daemons I can't control. And I have to remind myself I am not responsible for them or the repercussions of their crazeh. But then there are the daemons I can control: Sundara Sport in LE color Time Travels Sundara Sport in Glacier Two different intensities of Madtosh Sport in Cove Madtosh Sport in Violin There are as many opinions about stash as there are people. I have, in fact, two paradoxical opinions. The first opinion is that "one should only have the yarn one needs to knit now." The second opinion is "Pretty! Wowza! Pretty! I wanna, I wanna, here's my money give give give it to me now! NOW!" The latter opinion has been the dominant one at chez yarn for over almost two years. I now have no more room for yarn. Or should I say, I don't want to make anymore room for yarn. The amoun...

Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The Carriage held but just Ourselves And Immortality. ~ Emily Dickinson This is the thought that came to me as I opened the "new post" window. My muse speaks and I never understand her. 'S okay. I'm used to it. I am growing more and more devoted each day to giving her free reign. Or, should I say, my capacity for indulging her is growing each and every day? Some days she takes on mythic proportions. Other days? Notsomuch. There was a bit of a lull in knitting at chez yarn. 'S okay, too. I'm listening to my inner knitter agitate over the fact I haven't had an FO in forever and I've cast on a new project. She can suck an egg. Yeah. That's the ticket. Wow, there's a tone change. This project, another pair of Waving Lace socks with Sundara sock yarn, has been given the frothy name "Escape to Russet Moon Mountain." (If you're into Twilight snark, tak...

When Ted and Sylvia Plath Hughes purchased their first home in North Tawton, Devon, England in the early sixties, Sylvia, the whirling dervish that she was, immediately set about making the house a home. She painted the walls, doors, woodwork, furniture, and probably even some of the floors. This part of her story is always guaranteed to make me feel like a sloth. From the numerous biographical material I've read over the years, the house held a room on the second floor which was hers, and hers alone. A writing study. One of the room's most prominent features was a vivid red floor rug. Or was it walls (or both)? I'm pretty sure it was the carpet, but I'm far too focused on my thoughts to ferret the truth out of my bookcase. Sylvia was invigorated by color, especially red. She believed it actively fed her creativity. As a knitter, I identify with this; color is my primary inspiration. What I realized last month is that the color of my projects can either ...