two knits of ivory

Although I will have an FO of this lovely project in the upcoming week, I've been hit with a bit of knitting ugh by this afternoon of the weekend. Thursday afternoon my shawl pin came in from that dodgy (not to be named) etsy retailer I mentioned the other day. The pin is perfect. And though I do feel I got value for my money, a quick look at the pin shows that what I thought I purchased is not what I received. The three ends of the metal in this piece indicate it is silver or nickel plated copper, the etsy shop description said it is sterling silver. I think it is my obligation to inform etsy about the false advertising, don't you think? I wore the pin and shawl on Friday, though, and I felt like a million bucks. My professed loathing for knitting triangular shawls waned sharply all day. I now want to knit a million of them. I'm short and squat and when I wore the shawl I actually felt glamorous. You can't put a price on that kind of feeling, and at my age it...

After the house cleaning my yarn and knitting underwent this weekend, I think I may have summitted the malaise. (Am I tempting fate by even writing this?) One thing is for sure, Nell made a great point in the comments: "Isn't it amazing how knitting can take you from feeling like a genius to an idiot in a few stitches?" I'm used to feeling like an idiot, therefore this aspect of knitting fits like a favorite pair of old boots. Having something in one's life akin to conquering if your own Mt. Everest, your own Mt. Washington, well, that is fascinating and invigorating. So yes, Nell, it is immoderately amazing. As I had hoped for, I finished my Sunshine and Shadows Shawl (not a triangle!) this weekend. Once I had blocked it out I stood back in awe. It was magic, this beautiful garment, magic. Somehow, this frumpy old hag (me) took two sticks and some string and made this: Am I straining under a pile hyperbole? Well, maybe just a smidge. When you feel so dark for so...

I've been trying to put my finger on the source of the all-encompassing malaise that settled into my life this past spring. It is like a hundred pound albatross. I'm not depressed or even a tad dysphoric. I'm just tired. In an email exchange with fellow knit blogger, Kristin , a phrase came to mind that encapsulates what I'm feeling: high maintenance. Every single activity I engage in, whether it's as banal as tooth brushing, or as fun as reading, anything other than malingering, just seems to be experienced as high maintenance. Once I could define what I feel, my spirits lifted a bit. Sounds strange, but it's true. Once I understand what I'm up against my natural drive to adapt kicked in and one of the first things I found the energy to tackle was my Sunshine and Shadows Shawl...errrr triangle. A week and a half ago I spent a solid half an hour struggling with the beginning of the final lace pattern, redoing the first 20 stitches or so who knows how many ti...

My Sunday morning waking dream was the design of a sweater using the much neglected Cascade 220 Superwash that's nearing a year in my stash. Ya know, cuz the best time to knit a sweater is the cusp of summer, right? :-/ This lovely yarn has been the subject of several design schemes, none of which came to fruition, including a sweater or two. The heathered tones scream out to become the vining twine leaf pattern I used in Project Stole . I'm thinking of just transposing the stole's motif right onto the front and back of a sweater, paired with a mini cabled rib for the neck, arm, and waistbands. But before I even think of designing something as ambitious as that, I've got to find the end of the Sunshine and Shadow Shawl , which has, by nature of my pattern dyslexia morphed into a leaf and medallion triangle. Who knew that the patterns in a book called "Knitting Lace Triangles " were the size of large hankerchiefs and not adult-bodied-sized shawls. Yes, ...

Most people can handle surprises. For example, most people can wait until the gift giving occasion arrives before giving the gift. I cannot. When I was six or seven I was charged with bringing my sister to her surprise birthday party at a family friend's home. Before we arrived, she not only knew there was a party, but my excessive exuberance led me tell her what her present was from our mom. I don't know what those adults were thinking, giving me such a heavy responsibility. I was not to be trusted with surprises, nosiree. Poor sis. Now that I am a married woman, living in the cocoon of married life, I don't do much damage anymore. I have learned to wait to open my own gifts until Christmas day, but I have not yet learned restraint when it comes to withholding the pleasure of others. My latest accomplishment was not getting on the cell phone to tell hubby I was surprising him with an ice cream cake, once I picked it up last December. I was able to hold off until about a ha...