Baby Steps

Garland's seemingly endless sleeves look much nicer photographed with my passion flower.

I am also contemplating frogging the sleeves of the Drop Stitch cardigan. I see a HUGE mistake in one of the dropped sections, namely I dropped too many stitches. See...



It might just drive me nurts. I am hardly a perfectionist, but I might not be able to hide this one.

I think I broke my dog...

This past weekend we took the dogs to visit some friends who live on a ranch in Pescadero. There is a small pond on this ranch, Corsa and Godiva did what any right minded labradors would do, they swam until they coulnd't swim any more. Corsa sprained his bum (tail doesn't work so good right now) and Godiva is still tuckered out, three days later! Below is the Chiefmessmaker with Corsa. Godiva was too busy being the underbrush-jump-in-pond-smell-coyote-scat dog to stand still for a photo op



Our friends board a sheep at this ranch. Heidi, the poor sheep, has not been shorn in 13 months or so. I have never seen such an overloaded creature in my life. As a knitter I have never seen so much potential in once place at one time. I really did feel like Elmer Fudd looking at Bugs Bunny all trussed up like a Thanksgiving Turkey, except I was seeing Heidi dressed in all the potential sweaters that she could become...(being the bright girl that I am, I did not take a picture of this amazing sight).

There has been knitting, and not just the imagined kind either, but honest actual knitting, however it is all pretty boring. Next project has got to be lace or cables, or have weird short row shaping, because this stockinette knitting is driving me crazy!


I have been alternately drooling and questioning the newest Rowan designs in Rowan 38. Aside from the unique (cough) names that some of the projects have, some of them look really fascinating, and some are interesting (in "my isn't that ... interesting" way).

River, truly a lovely piece. And who doesn't need a lacy knit shawl (at least I think its a shawl).



Eowyn, fun funky, just what I need lacy, cabled teacher gloves*. Satisfying both as fashion accessories and a fun knit.



Bonnie, now did I miss something? I don’t see the knitwear…



Clyde, just as much of a rebel as Bonnie (those two), again looks lovely, but where is the knitting?



Armi, is well, interesting in that way that things are sometimes.



Felting is mentioned. And ya'll know how I am about the felting!!!

I have to get my grimy paws on this magazine! Some of the photography is very dark, I can’t make out the details. Has anyone see it up close and personal? Any thoughts on it? My LYS can't tell me when they will get their Rowan winter shipment!

*My high school, in Chile, lacked central heating. Imagine a large rectangular building, maybe the length of a football field, there is no central hallway. All the classrooms face out, and have large metal and glass doors. Paint the whole thing orange and black and you have Nido de Aguilas circa 1983. Each classroom is a equipped with one steam radiator. It was cold in the winter, cold and damp. Santiago’s climate is much like northern California, and Santiaginos always act indignant that winter comes upon them with such damp ferocity. Inside and out we wore our fingerless gloves and ponchos, not today’s frothy concoctions, but big, heavy, woven blanket like garments, very practical, very warm. Our teachers made fingerless gloves popular, easier to write on the board, hand out papers, run the ancient mimeograph machine. They were usually made of brown, grey and white alpaca, often decorated with an intarsia llama or alpaca. I miss those ponchos and gloves, but not those cold classrooms.

The name game

I imagine that it gets old sitting around dreaming up names for your knit designs, but somebody might want to talk to Rowan's marketing department about this one...

Snork

Names not withstanding, I think I must have this magazine.

Bland Progress

Garland is resting for the moment as I concentrate on the Drop Stitch Cardigan from the Fall Interweave.

I will either love the Drop Stitch Cardigan, or hate it with a passion known to few. I love the variegated Manos wool that I am using. I love cardigans... so the risk is minimal. However (and didn't you just know there was going to be a caveat), when I gauged the sweater I had to go up a needle size to get the correct gauge width, but in doing so the lengthwise gauge was increased by a row. I am more concerned about it fitting around me properly than I am about length; besides, I have a longish back so a little extra length is welcome. The worry comes from the sleeves which are turning out to be apishly long. I do like a longer sleeve, but will I be frustrated by the drop stitches catching on everything I touch?

Here are the sleeves in all their glory. This photo does not do justice to the yarn, in fact it is much, much less pea green colored. The blanket that they are photographed against is a lush grass green (not dead lawn green as the photo would lead you to believe)

I do plan to wet block this sweater, and in that hope to compensate (read tug, pull and otherwise bend to my will) for my slap dash attitude toward following gauge. My swatching gauging issues can really land me in hot water since I tend to favor more fitted styles that are not so terribly forgiving when knit slightly off kilter... maybe I should stick to felting.

After I finish the Cardi and the endless Garland, I must find a project that is not so stockinet heavy. Maybe some pretty lacy thing, like the great shame of Spring 2005. Or maybe the fabulous Weekend Get Away Bag from the fall Interweave.

Exsqueeze me?

Today I shall discuss fashion, and share a wonderful fashion tip that I received (like a blow to the solar plexus) at the hands of sales person at a certain department store (originally based in the Pacific Northwest, with a reputation for excellence in shoes and customer service, name begins with an ‘n’… ). Ok I don’t know why I am protecting the store, it didn’t do anything to me, and it wasn’t even the sales clerk that I was dealing with that handed me the little tip that has me all aquiver. But don’t let me get ahead of my story.

Saturday my lovely spouse had to stop by the above-mentioned clothier to pick up a pair of trousers he was having altered, so I opted to go along for the ride. I had had my eye on a certain pair of boots, which I wanted to try. (For some inexplicable reason I am craving winter clothing – summer clothing is such a bummer, always seems to be cheaply made, never seems to fit right, often is made out of fabrics that don’t breathe – hello, who wants to wear synthetics when its hovering near 98 degrees? Perhaps I should start buying my summer wardrobe at the store I am not naming in this little flame rather than Old Navy!) We arrive at the mall, I am dressed in my Saturday best, consisting of a bright green tank and a fetching pair of ratty cut offs (very Daisy Duke – I am so pop culture). I stop in ladies shoes; Spouse goes off to fetch his trou. I assume he is going to come back after he gets his pants to see me in my glory with the objects of my chocolate boot lust. The sales guy, who is helping me quickly learns that I have no dignity and love a good joke, and comments, “Now that is a look” as I am waltzing around in my shorts and OBVIOUSLY wintry boots. I spy Spouse lurking in men’s shoes (Spouse is as big a shoe ho as I am), and my sales guy suggests that I go over to show him. I take the suggestion and prance over to men’s shoes. Now I am fully aware that the look I am sporting is not in the trade rags this season, in fact I think it came in and went out the same day that Barbarella was released. NOT THAT THERE IS ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT MIND YOU, and should you choose to walk around in public dressed in such a fashion more power to you. Spouse spots me, and I call out, “What do you think”? Before he can answer me, a sales woman in men’s shoes says to me “Those boots are supposed to be worn tucked into jeans.” Gobsmacked I tell you!

How many things are wrong with this, let me count them:

1. I didn’t ask you
2. The customer is always right
3. SUPPOSED! When did shoes, or any other garment for that matter, come with a manual of dos and don’ts . I was well aware that I was a walking Glamour Don’t, but then again I was only trying the boots on!
4. Unsolicited advice is rarely welcome
5. Tucked into jeans? Hello, did that in 1982, don’t need to and won’t do it again.
6. SUPPOSED!
7. Did I ask you?
8. Let she who has never committed a fashion faux pas cast the first stone Miss “I dressed in the dark” sales person
9. Hello, were either of us addressing you?
10. SUPPOSED?

Now perhaps she felt that she was saving me from a life of fashion faux pas, but rillly! And if so, there are a thousand other ways to offer the suggestion such as ; “Those boots look great tucked into jeans.” SUPPOSED? So the fashion police will prosecute me if I wear them in any other way? It is not my right as an able bodied adult to dress in any way I choose? If I choose to dress like a trashy ole ho, then I will bloody well do it! If I choose to wear Manolos and drape myself in Lion Brand “Fun Fetti” yarn and ride through town barebacked on my horse then I will do it!

Needless to say, I bought the boots.

The boots will look stunning paired with Garland, if I can ever finish knitting this vast landscape of stockinette:

And just dreamy pair with the Dropped Stitch Cardigan from the fall Interweave that I am knitting in variegated Manos:

For the love of dog!

Really? Now I would never buy Cat Fancy, but this? And for those of you who choose not to click:



Yep I am a big ole suckah when it comes to my dogs. And this magazine bills itself as "the modern dog culture magazine". Hey, I am modern and so are my dogs, and we care about culcha!.

On the way home this morning we spied this guy. He is into car culture.





(Sad lack of knitting content due to a bad case of stockinetteitis. Garland is a loverly girl, but she is entirely knit in ss, which does not make for thrilling photography or content)

Getting into hot water....

I like to felt. I like knitting big ole things and watching them shrink up into nothingness. I was always envious of kids who had Shrinky Dinks kits, I am making up for this lack by playing with my own grown up version of Shrinky Dinks, I like to call them "Smelty Felts"; nothing beats the odeur of wet sheep pervading your home! (On a side note... the Shrinky Dink website says you can make a "whole variety of useable plastic items". Huh? These are not your grandma's Shrinky Dinks kids! These are the Shrinky Dinks of the new millennium! Useful! Bright! Bizarre!)


So anyhoo, I like to felt.

Witness these cute reverse checkerboard slippers that I felted last Christmas



Cute my ass! They were never given as gifts because they are butt ugly. Only a mother could love these half assed excuses for cleverly crafted gifts. They were destined to make the short journey from gift to church rummage sale in seconds flat. But I digress. I didn't have the heart to toss them out, nor did I want them polluting my knitting basket with their hideousness. I plopped these beauties on top of my washer. They floated around for months, falling on the floor, one of the pair migrating upstairs with the clean laundry, gathering dust and dog kibble, falling in the paper recycling only to be fished out because they were not paper. Slowly they gathered a life of their own, they became the personalities of the laundry room. You could always open the door to the laundry and find one or both of them lurking, on the floor, apart, together, but constant hairy little mirror images of each other.

These little buggers really do have a life of their own. While I was doing a load dog towels {for those of you just dying to know what a dog towel is: we have a generous back stock of old towels used to dry wet dogs. Those of you who own water dogs already know.} one of these cretinous hairy monsters decided to explore the inside of the washer.

number one, the normal sized felted slipper



and number two, the super felted, felted slipper!



Snork!

The Harlot knits darling little people shoes. I just shrink 'em into oblivion! This little slipper is dense; it might knock someone out if you threw it at his or her head at just the right angle.

I love felting, it is such a random act! When I am not making a "whole variety of useable plastic (ermmm, wool) items", I am busy making useless, turdlike objet d'art! Oh Martha me!

Oh yah, in case you hadn't already figured it out, the first photo is a clever exercise in perspective, and was taken after the crazy hot water incident, with the super felted slipper in the front...

*****

In the event that anyone was worried about last week's radio silence. I was here:


Cool, colorful Colorado.

Visiting my spectacular Momkat.



We engaged in all sorts of pursuits from alpine driving in Rocky Mountain national park, to visiting yummy little yarn shops in Denver and Boulder.

Good time was had by all two of us!