Shame Has a Name

We are leaving for a month in Italy, this coming Monday. There is a code orange level of stress humming a cicada like hole in my head right now. To give you an idea of just how desperate things are around the house, I caught myself doing something really unforgivable this morning. I was tidying up the living room, and I saw three pieces of sweetened puffed rice stuck to the seat of the couch. They were from yesterday's breakfast, and had hitched a ride to the couch on my toddler. I looked at them. I weighed my options, and then I ate them. The distance to the bin was too great. It would have required too much effort. I am officially a human compost bin. I am officially pathetic. You can thank me later, for not including pictures in this post.

Tipple Cat Hat

I'll begin with the tipple. Today we bottled 17 bottles of elderflower champagne.



This is a real science experiment. It's my first brewing project, and the first time I've ever tasted elderflower anything. It took four days to get a good ferment going, recipe here. We're a little scared of exploding bottles. We've secured the champagne in a plastic trashcan with blankets. Our other security measure is to leave for Italy, and let our house sitters deal with it. I have no business making elderflower champagne one week before we leave on vacation. I certainly have no business leaving a possibly explosive sugary alcohol bomb for our unsuspecting house sitters. I know this, but I don't care.
Here are the cats.


I found these while going through some unopened boxes from our move. Our move was three years ago, don't laugh. I had completely forgotten about these beauties.



I think they were a gift from my mother. They are hilarious. The open mouthed cat is my favorite.


They remind me of Charles Dickens characters. They should have names like Cornelius Bruggs, Constance Fellander and Mellie Whithers. I'll have to keep my eyes out for worthy project.
Last, and probably least, is the summer sky hat.



I finally found some buttons for it. I had been looking for bird buttons, but the only birds I could find were perching or very very plastic. The ladybugs were languishing on the bottom of my sewing basket.



I got them out on a whim, and was really pleased with how they looked. They are made out of glass, and are completely inappropriate for a baby hat, but then the whole hat is totally impractical. It's not machine washable, it's got little wisps of mohair trailing off of it, and now it's got baby chokers sewn all over it. I don't care. I like it.



I think my brain left for Italy without me.

T & A & a Pattern

After a shocking dry spell, my mailbox finally decided to deliver. In one day, I received the summer 09 copy of Interweave Knits and "A Stitch in Time vol. 1". This is a book I ordered from Amazon a while ago. It was ordered in some sort of "The Three Faces of Eve" moment, because for the life of me, I can't actually remember ordering it.



This book is fantastic. It's a new version of a book published in the 1972. The original was a compilation of over 100 patterns printed in the UK between 1920 and 1949. The new version includes 60 of the original patterns with rewritten versions in larger sizes and new yarns. It's wonderful to see the two patterns side by side. I love the old sales pitches. "The young girl looks her sweetest in a butterfly collar." This collar is the size of a large hawk.
While vintage patterns are fun to peruse, I often find it a little hard to see myself knitting them. I can't imagine knitting a floor length gown on size 4 needles. I don't think I'd make it through the 600 stitch cast on. Despite a few costume pieces, This book has a surprising number of really wearable garments. There are at least 5 things I'd love to knit, and probably another 10 that I'd knit if knitting was all I did, and I had an unlimited supply of yarn. There's another reason I love this book. In my grandma's heyday, before very tall teenagers dominated the runways, clothing was all about T&A. I've spent a number of years hating my Ts and ignoring my A. Clothing that's meant for flat chested runway models does not do my figure justice. Patterns from the 30's, 40's, 50's and some of the 60's are much more flattering for me.
Interweave Knits also has some good summer knits. I like this issue. There's a pretty little cardigan form Connie Chang Chinchio (winner of the most alliteration in a knitwear designer's name award), and an incredible entrelac lace skirt by Annie Modesitt. The other thing that caught my eye was a baby cardigan from the staff projects section. I was very excited about knitting this for my little man until Nicole, from "Stash and Burn", referred to this sweater as the "Loppem for babies." On second glance, she's right. Maybe there's a small part of me that wants to be matchy matchy with my son, but there's a bigger part that doesn't want to leave emotional scars. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to change the pattern. I wanted a different cable pattern, long sleeves, a bigger size, different yarn, more buttons, a different yoke....... and so I present to you the ( in progress) "Mathless Cardigan". I gave up on knitting from a pattern, and hit the drawing board.


I don't want to spoil the surprise, so I'll save the description and pattern for another post. I will tell you that it's the easiest pattern ever. All of the major numbers in the pattern are divisible by 5. I have a rather antagonistic relationship numbers. I'll leave it at that.

Ye Olde Photoshoot

I roped my husband into taking some pictures of me in my "Loppem". I still haven't found the right buttons, but I'm sure that won't take long. It's a little on the big side, but it's still wearable.



I went with the bed jacket feel of the sweater, but it looks just as good with jeans.



The photoshoot may have gotten a little out of control. They always do.



I blame this on the old French nether garment. Just look at these seams.



Who sews like this? This woman must have started her first sampler in utero. I'm awe struck. I'm sure I could sew a seam like this, but could I do it for yard after yard, by candlelight, after making three hot meals, looking after five kids, slaughtering a chicken, and taking forty pounds of laundry to the local lavoir? This kind of craftwomanship is truly commendable. Here's one of her buttonholes.


To give you an idea of scale, that button is about the size of one of those tiny little buttons used to secure the corner of a man's collar. You know, those buttons that are impossible for anyone over the age of 14 to button. The most shocking thing about this masterpiece of everyday life, is the price. I paid ten euros for it. Every seam is hand sewn, all of edges are finished with a hand sewn scalloped lace, every tiny button hole is perfection, and it cost me ten euros.



It hurts a little to see something so beautiful, so undervalued. There are racks of these things at every antique show, and most of them are just like this. Now that I knit, when I look at these, I see hours of a woman's life.



Thanks H.C., I promise I'll wear it with you in mind.