Now....... I've got to finish the shawl. This time it's for real. There's a cast on ban in place. I've got no where else to go. The shawl is all I've got. No more Mrs. nice pink cardigan. It's on, baby.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Rough Draft
This needs blocking. It also needs hooks and eyes sewn on, but I just couldn't resist wearing it around for a day. It's the "Ambrosia Cardigan" by Katya Frankel, from the most recent issue of "Interweave Knits". The yarn is "Classic Silk" from Classic Elite Yarns. I like it. It's very soft and has a nice hand. It's a blend of cotton, silk and nylon and has a slightly slubby texture. It's a very good around the house cardigan. I think it brings out the beer wench in me.
Now....... I've got to finish the shawl. This time it's for real. There's a cast on ban in place. I've got no where else to go. The shawl is all I've got. No more Mrs. nice pink cardigan. It's on, baby.
Now....... I've got to finish the shawl. This time it's for real. There's a cast on ban in place. I've got no where else to go. The shawl is all I've got. No more Mrs. nice pink cardigan. It's on, baby.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
The Worst Word I Know is
Procrastination.
This sweater is a soft pink pile of procrastination.
I was planning to finish the Haruni shawl for my best friends wedding, but the baby came a week early, and another work deadline was moved up by two weeks, and somewhere around the Monday before a Sunday wedding I realized that the shawl would not make it. I spoke to my friend about the shawl's state of borderless-ness and she gave me the go ahead to not go ahead. She wasn't planning on wearing at the ceremony, so I didn't feel too bad.... yeah, I still felt like a jerk. Thankfully she's having a reception toward the end of July, and so I have a chance between now and then to finish what I started. This whole finishing what you start thing is very important. My mother told me so.
The problem is my Dad and Mom sent me some yarn. I wasn't expecting it, it just arrived looking all soft and smelling of a real American yarn shop. I put it up in the stash with every intention of waiting until after I'd finished the shawl, but with the new baby around I needed something easy to knit on. Evening after evening passed with no knitting. That was unacceptable, but I knew that I couldn't pick up that complicated lace knitting without a good solid block of time. If this sounds like a real B.S. excuse then you've got a good sniffer. I, however, was not savvy enough to see through my own thin excuses. I ran upstairs and grabbed a ball for swatching. "Yeah, I'll just swatch a little. A little swatching never hurt anybody. Besides, I'm not actually going to cast on for anything." This is a slippery slope, my friends. You see, that same day I had received the summer issue of "Interweave Knits". I was clearly lying to myself at this point. If there were a court of law that had an interest in whether or not unfinished handknits were being held hostage in my closet I would be in cuffs right now. The rest of that evening is sort of a blur. I know at some point I was tearing my desk apart looking for a ruler to check gauge. I think I started cruising Ravelry for pattern suggestions. I don't think the word "cruising" has been used to describe a good behavior since the 1950's. Everything spun out of control when I realized that my favorite sweater from the new IK was knit in one piece from the top down. That tidbit of info was what sunk my battleship of good intentions. I mean, top down sweaters pretty much knit themselves. Am I right?
Flash forward a week and I've got a nearly complete sweater in my lap. The shawl is languishing in a basket. I need to start bailing out the battleship right now. My friend's reception is coming up fast. Time to suck it up and start doubling the number of stitches on my needles in preparation for the border. Oh sweet baby Hitler that sounds like a lot of stitches. Sigh.
This sweater is a soft pink pile of procrastination.
I was planning to finish the Haruni shawl for my best friends wedding, but the baby came a week early, and another work deadline was moved up by two weeks, and somewhere around the Monday before a Sunday wedding I realized that the shawl would not make it. I spoke to my friend about the shawl's state of borderless-ness and she gave me the go ahead to not go ahead. She wasn't planning on wearing at the ceremony, so I didn't feel too bad.... yeah, I still felt like a jerk. Thankfully she's having a reception toward the end of July, and so I have a chance between now and then to finish what I started. This whole finishing what you start thing is very important. My mother told me so.
The problem is my Dad and Mom sent me some yarn. I wasn't expecting it, it just arrived looking all soft and smelling of a real American yarn shop. I put it up in the stash with every intention of waiting until after I'd finished the shawl, but with the new baby around I needed something easy to knit on. Evening after evening passed with no knitting. That was unacceptable, but I knew that I couldn't pick up that complicated lace knitting without a good solid block of time. If this sounds like a real B.S. excuse then you've got a good sniffer. I, however, was not savvy enough to see through my own thin excuses. I ran upstairs and grabbed a ball for swatching. "Yeah, I'll just swatch a little. A little swatching never hurt anybody. Besides, I'm not actually going to cast on for anything." This is a slippery slope, my friends. You see, that same day I had received the summer issue of "Interweave Knits". I was clearly lying to myself at this point. If there were a court of law that had an interest in whether or not unfinished handknits were being held hostage in my closet I would be in cuffs right now. The rest of that evening is sort of a blur. I know at some point I was tearing my desk apart looking for a ruler to check gauge. I think I started cruising Ravelry for pattern suggestions. I don't think the word "cruising" has been used to describe a good behavior since the 1950's. Everything spun out of control when I realized that my favorite sweater from the new IK was knit in one piece from the top down. That tidbit of info was what sunk my battleship of good intentions. I mean, top down sweaters pretty much knit themselves. Am I right?
Flash forward a week and I've got a nearly complete sweater in my lap. The shawl is languishing in a basket. I need to start bailing out the battleship right now. My friend's reception is coming up fast. Time to suck it up and start doubling the number of stitches on my needles in preparation for the border. Oh sweet baby Hitler that sounds like a lot of stitches. Sigh.
The Best Excuse
I have the best excuse possible for not keeping up with my blogging. It starts with a "B" and ends with a lot of diapers. Meet Miles.
When I had my first child we were unprepared. Oh, we had about four stylish baby carrying devices, endless booties and piles of freshly laundered diapers, but we were very, very, very unprepared. My first baby was what a nicer person would call challenging. I used many bad words to describe the situation. I'm going to have to preface this next part with a disclaimer. I love both of my sons and I don't think being a "hard" baby says anything about what kind of person the baby will mature into. My first son is a sweet, charming, thoughtful little boy.That said, my first boy was a disaster of a baby. He would probably have been diagnosed with colic if we'd ever been brave enough to get in a car with him for more than 10 minutes at a time. If he wasn't nursing, or asleep, or being carried by someone who was walking, he was crying. It made me feel like I didn't know what the heck I was doing.
I considered trying to convince a doctor to make me deaf. I fantasized about those sci-fi pods that put people into stasis for crazy long periods of time while they zip around the universe. Why don't we have those yet? Our first baby hated all of the baby carriers save for the Baby Bjorn. He wouldn't lay on his back. He never slept. He always wanted to be in motion so, that year, my husband bought me a rocking chair for Mother's Day. The instant my butt hit the seat the baby started crying. I was woken up 5 to 7 times a night until he was 8 months old, and he didn't actually start sleeping through the night until he was two. I thought all babies were that hard.
That's why I prepared for this baby as if we were all about to go on a four month trip to one of Dante's layers of hell. I stocked the freezer with about a month's worth of pre-made meals. I cleaned the whole house as if it were not going to be cleaned for a month. I taught the dogs not to scratch at the door. I organized all of our paper work. I was prepared to do nothing but nurse and pace the house. This is, I'm sure, why I now have one of the least demanding babies possible. It's like I gave birth to a house plant. He needs food, a clean diaper, an occasional burp and some cuddling. That's all. He makes me feel like a super mom. All I have to do is pat him on the tummy lightly and he starts cooing at me. I think this is nature's way of trying to trick me into having more. I just have to find the part of the form where I can check the box for the "easy baby".
When I had my first child we were unprepared. Oh, we had about four stylish baby carrying devices, endless booties and piles of freshly laundered diapers, but we were very, very, very unprepared. My first baby was what a nicer person would call challenging. I used many bad words to describe the situation. I'm going to have to preface this next part with a disclaimer. I love both of my sons and I don't think being a "hard" baby says anything about what kind of person the baby will mature into. My first son is a sweet, charming, thoughtful little boy.That said, my first boy was a disaster of a baby. He would probably have been diagnosed with colic if we'd ever been brave enough to get in a car with him for more than 10 minutes at a time. If he wasn't nursing, or asleep, or being carried by someone who was walking, he was crying. It made me feel like I didn't know what the heck I was doing.
I considered trying to convince a doctor to make me deaf. I fantasized about those sci-fi pods that put people into stasis for crazy long periods of time while they zip around the universe. Why don't we have those yet? Our first baby hated all of the baby carriers save for the Baby Bjorn. He wouldn't lay on his back. He never slept. He always wanted to be in motion so, that year, my husband bought me a rocking chair for Mother's Day. The instant my butt hit the seat the baby started crying. I was woken up 5 to 7 times a night until he was 8 months old, and he didn't actually start sleeping through the night until he was two. I thought all babies were that hard.
That's why I prepared for this baby as if we were all about to go on a four month trip to one of Dante's layers of hell. I stocked the freezer with about a month's worth of pre-made meals. I cleaned the whole house as if it were not going to be cleaned for a month. I taught the dogs not to scratch at the door. I organized all of our paper work. I was prepared to do nothing but nurse and pace the house. This is, I'm sure, why I now have one of the least demanding babies possible. It's like I gave birth to a house plant. He needs food, a clean diaper, an occasional burp and some cuddling. That's all. He makes me feel like a super mom. All I have to do is pat him on the tummy lightly and he starts cooing at me. I think this is nature's way of trying to trick me into having more. I just have to find the part of the form where I can check the box for the "easy baby".
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