Where to begin.......

It seems more than daunting to try to bring this blog current but I feel I must. I have hurt some people I care deeply about with my silence and they deserve something from me. It may also help me to see how far I've come.

When the house was sold late last spring, it was my plan to move to the Cape and regroup at mom's. When Chelsea's summer class began and we went down to begin preparing for our arrival, that plan fell to shreds. Not only did I sense we weren't going to be embraced by the sibs, the feeling was they didn't even really want us to be there. It was shocking to say the least and with two weeks to spare, we went back to VT to come up with Plan B.

I found a condo in town and signed a year's lease, convincing myself that leaving VT in "stages" was going to be better. I would have lost my house, but not my friends, my support system and my life as I knew it. The idea of condo living was hugely appealing to me and I began to embrace this new twist in my future.

There was a gap of nearly two weeks between the closing and being able to move into the condo, and since Chelsea still had her class to finish, we stuck with our plan to head to the Cape...this time to "vacation" and wait. All of my belongings were either in storage or still sitting at the house, waiting their move into the condo. We arrived on the Cape with clothes and not much else.

The first day, Chelsea went to class and I sat and stared. Leaving Vt had been so traumatic...the last afternoon in our house was one of yelling and tears as everything was taking longer than we wanted. I cried for the whole trip down as my dear daughter begged me to get a grip. I was oblivous to how hard this was for her as well, leaving the only home she'd ever known, as I was overcome with sadness, anger and resentment at yet more loss in my life.

So that first day, I sat and stared. The second day I did the same. Being alone all day gave me no reason to move...there was no one to watch me give in to my emotions and no reason to do a thing. So I sat. I felt like the commercial for depression even knowing I was the poster child for it. Still I couldn't move.

By the third day, I realized this was going to be my life in the condo. I would have nothing to do. Twenty minutes of picking up and my day would be done. There would be no projects, no yard work, nothing needing my attention. I would just be sitting. I began to realize that what had seemed so appealing about condo life was really about the exhaustion of moving. All those weeks of cleaning, sorting and packing had left me so tired I was relishing the idea of doing nothing. Little did I stop to think that, once rested, how boring that would be.

So, on the fourth day on the Cape, I decided to finish the bedroom. I cleaned out mom's things and started striping wallpaper. I worked my butt off and was so tired by the end of the day, I could barely move, but it felt right. The next day, I started early and got it ready to paint. By the end of the week, I had finished her room and could sleep in a space that didn't feel haunted by her presence...in both its wonderful and difficult ways. She was everywhere and her absence hit me at every turn. Had I been in VT, I knew I could pretend she was still alive and yet here, it was impossible.

Within a week, I knew I had made the wrong choice. I knew I was supposed to be on the Cape and that I was meant to redo mom's house. It was so obvious to me that bringing this place she and daddy built, that she had toiled over for so many years, back up to speed was my job. It was the last gift I could give her....to make her home beautiful again. Once I realized this, I was caught in the dilemma of whether this would create problems with my siblings. Did they really not want me here or was it just that I needed to slow down and move through things more slowly? It had been six months and they had done virtually nothing to any of mom's things. Was that about denial or lack of time and desire? Could I be selfish and do what I needed to do despite them?

I decided I could. So I broke my lease and at the little "going away" dinner with my family (complete with housewarming gifts for my "new" home), I informed them that I was staying after all. They seemed only somewhat surprised and supported my decision.

What followed is a blur. I know it involved threatened lawsuits and logistical nightmares in terms of moving my things. Much of what I owned went into storage and yet that was okay. I threw myself into working. Chelsea went back to school and I started once again, sorting and cleaning, stripping wallpaper, painting, refinishing furniture. Some days I would have four or five projects going at once...a dresser I was painting, a table I was sanding, a bookcase getting its final coat of finish.

Somedays I started at 4 am and worked until midnight. I realize now it was about not thinking...about making myself so exhausted I would fall into bed unable to move my arms or legs. I was in a state of depression, so eager to remove myself from my reality, that I created a world in which there was no chance to feel anything beyond the physical. I stopped answering the phone, reading emails, opening mail. For months, I lived in my own private bubble with no contact from anything or anyone outside my self-centered life.

Friends worried. I didn't care. I tried to convince everyone I was fine, despite my silence and withdrawal. The kids worried, which was harder. I tried putting on a veneer of doing fine, but they didn't buy it. Trevor came from California and for five days, I rallied myself into being social. We had a lovely time, revisiting memories of our vacations here when he was little and slowly, I began to look around me. It was after Labor Day and the crowds had left but the weather was still lovely. I had forgotten how soothing it is to sit at the water's edge and listen to the waves roll in. I had lost sight of how special this place can be, how full of memories and events from my past.

The other thing that happened which went a long way towards bringing me out of my depths was the labor itself. Not only did I think constantly of mom and how many times over the years she had painted this wall or washed this woodwork, but it made me think of dad too. These stairs beneath my paintbrush were boards he measured and cut, nailed into place as he created this home for his family. It was coming home in a way I found so healing and so complete that my depression began to lift and yet re-entry was a long time in coming.

I didn't know where to begin in explaining to people where I was. It all felt so confusing and so raw, that I continued to avoid everyone. I wasn't ready to rejoin the world and yet knew I couldn't continue through the holidays to sequester myself away much longer. Being here meant family obligations that could have been avoided in VT; the holidays meant reaching out or blowing my "cover" that I was fine. I was afraid and embarrassed at being so out of touch and didn't know how to begin to recover those relationships...nor did I know if I even wanted to. Couldn't I be an island? Couldn't I live the life a hermit and not be noticed?

Through the weeks, I had completely redone two bedrooms, the front and back entry areas, a hallway and the stairway. I finished the last big project just before Thanksgiving...the kitchen. It had taken me weeks to complete and I was thrilled with the results. Mom's kitchen, the hub of our home, was clean and bright and a rich deep red. It was warm and welcoming and I knew she'd be pleased. The kids were coming and it was going to be a happier holiday than last year when mom got so sick and then died just before Christmas. For the first time in months, I was actually excited about something beyond a paint color or a finished wall. My excitement involved other people and I was relishing being with my kids.

Thanksgiving and the weekend that followed were a joy. The kids made me laugh and there is just something so wonderful about my family unit feeling as it should to me, with us all together. Listening to them laugh, tease each other, sqabble in jest, sounds so comforting and familiar. It never ceases to warm my heart. I felt energized and ready for the Christmas season to begin. I was eager to have new shops to explore and gifts to buy for those I loved. I was ready to get moving again on living my life and not just holing up in the solitude of the house.

But I guess someone had other plans for me, because the day the kids left, I got a toothache. Within two days, I was in the emergency room with an absess and infection in my face. I looked like a cartoon chipmunk. In the proceeding months, I had managed to arrange for health insurance but had yet to get a doctor and certainly not a dentist. My lack of attention to this detail suddenly seemed huge...and was about to get even larger.

The day after being in the ER with my tooth, I stumbed rushing for the phone and torn a muscle in my calf. I literally could not walk. Because of the large amounts of medication I was taking for my tooth, coupled with my heart medication, my leg bled internally until it was about four times it normal size. Another trip to the ER to rule out blod clots and a hasty choice in doctors found me with strict orders to stay off my leg and keep it iced. So much for shopping. With no choice but to sit still, I pulled out needles and knitting for the first time in months. It had been so long, it all felt awkward in my hands.

The leg refused to heal. The swelling refused to go down and my medications refused to get in line. My life became hobbling to the doctor for blood tests and limping back home, to sit with my leg raised. I was depressed, frustrated and fed up with being infirm and before I knew it, it was Christmas. Then it was New Years. Once again, the transistion from one year to the next was painful and sad and colored in negativity. And the leg wouldn't heal. The swelling would not go down. It had been nearly six weeks and I still couldn't walk and the doctors kept saying they couldn't do anything until the swelling was down. Argghhhhh! I was no longer depressed. I was pissed. Finally, towards the second week of January, it was "small" enough to be evaluated and a therapy plan engaged. Within just a few days, it worked and I was able to begin moving about more comfortably. It seemed forever since I'd been well and I was determined to rejoin life.

Through this period of time, my darling daughter had decided to quit school. She had been unhappy for months, her grades were suffering, she was lost in terms of majors and goals and it all became too much. I had worried about having her here...about both of us losing ground on our relatively new independence and falling backwards into her being a teen and me being a full time mom again. Where was the happy medium between being supportive and enabling? Little did I realize how important her presence was to become and how all these thoughts about my role in her "recovery" would be a joke.

I managed to enjoy my return to good health for about a week. I was still being blood tested weekly as my new doctor struggled to get my meds under control. Then, what began as a fever and impending chest cold became something quite larger. Two days of a temp of 102 and I couldn't breathe. No cough, no cold, just a fever and no breath. I couldn't lie down, I couldn't sleep, I was miserable. I was being hit with one thing after another and so sick of feeling crappy!

The long and short of it is that my "chest cold" and inability to breathe was fact a heart rate out of control and I suddenly found myself in an ambulance being raced to the hospital. After a diagnosis of pneumonia from a heart that couldn't keep pace with its own blood flow, I was admitted for four days. Slowly my heartrate slowed, my temp came down and I was out of the woods.

I've been home for 10 days now, feel a bit stronger all the time but have no doubt that open heart surgery is in my very near future. It scares the crap out of me, but I can no longer live this way and postponing is no longer an option.

In all this time here, through all the various ups and downs, I have thought my being here was about mom...what I could do for her, my last gifts to her etc. Now I know its really all about me. This is where I'm supposed to be and is the perfect place to renew, recharge and reheal myself. My daughter's presence is so wonderful...she cares for me, waits on me and feels useful and needed. She has enrolled in the local community college, is excited about her classes and has found a job she thinks she will enjoy.

And I am happy here. I am loving the mild winter, the snow that comes, looks gorgeous and then melts away. I am knitting again, working on the next room slowly and without obsession and happy to be able to meet my sister for lunch on our mom's birthday. I feel like the last six months are a blur, yet provided me with a clarity I needed. I know I disappointed, offended and hurt people through that time and can only offer an apology. I never meant to do any of those things and yet couldn't stop them from happening. I don't know what the future holds for me...there is still much to sort out and decide. But I feel strong enough and optimistic enough to begin thinking about it. And that is progress, even if slow in coming!

She said yes and my baby turns 20!

Twenty years ago this moment, I held my new daughter in my arms. I was struck by how tiny and perfect she was, how much she looked like my sister and how foolish I had been to think I would have trouble sharing my love for Trevor with the "new baby".

Twenty. Good grief! Where did that time go? She hasn't been the easiest child and God knows, particularly during her teens, I was ready to sell her off to the traveling circus, but now she's twenty and all those attributes I found so trying have come home to roost.

From the time she was 5-6, I told people she was everything I wanted her to be in an adult woman...strong, independent, willful, unswayed by peer (or parental) pressure to do something she didn't want to...if only she would stifle those characteristics until she didn't live with me, we'd get along a whole lot better! And now, she IS that adult woman and all those same personality traits are serving us both well. She still has her moments, but overall she's become a wonderful person who I love to bits, who makes me proud and happy to be her mom. And now she's twenty. Ye gads...how can it be?

And Alana did say yes! T called from Italy a few days ago and you could hear his grin through the phone line. It was, as Alana said, "all perfect"...from the setting, the proposal, the ring, the timing...both sounded as happy as I've ever heard them. I'm thrilled and delighted...so grateful they found each other and can only pray they continue to grow and thrive together. They are a perfect match and I'm overwhelmed and overjoyed at my own nachis!

Speaking of Alana, despite house inspections, appraisals, cleaning out Jane's and spending far too much time on Ravelry, I have done some knitting! I only bring Alana's name into this because I finally blocked the scarf I did with the yarn left over from her Christmas shawl. It is here....


and here....and here. It's the Scarf with French Trellis and something something border from Victorian Lace Today. (Why is it all those patterns have such convoluted names??)

It was an incredibly quick and easy knit and looks far more impressive than it was to make. Anyway, it's been done forever and now is finally finished, for which I'm happy.

Also on the lace front, I've all but given up on the Spring Mystery Shawl...as the mystery unfolded, I found I just wasn't wild about it. I have a hard time articulating what I do like about lace, but know what I don't like pretty quickly. This just had too much solid area for me and so, since I was utterly in love with the yarn, I used another ball of it to start my first ever faroese pattern from Anne Hanson.

It's started off a little tricksy because of the many charts and I will confess I used the text for several inches before switching to the charts. That was a challenge! I've been knitting off charts for so long, using the text is like flying blind...there is absolutely no sense of the pattern and was so much harder, I was actually shocked.


I'm very intrigued by the styling and, since it is bunched on a 24" needle and indistinguishable as more than a lump of something, I can't wait to see it all stretched out. It's going very quickly, despite the forever lengthening purl rows. But even these have been good as I finally downloaded my first audio book from the library. It's Water for Elephants and I'm loving it! Unfortunately, I can only listen during the purl rows as the knit rows take all my concentration, so it's a slow "read". Maybe I'm too one-side brained or something, but I can't imagine how people do both at the same time! Maybe if it were stockinette stitch or something, but not lace!

Anyway, progress photos (such as they are) are here:














In keeping with my inability to have just one WIP, I'm also working on this little scarf from Miriam Felton...it's adorable and will no doubt be a Christmas gift for someone, although the color is mine, mine, mine. It's the perfect porch knit, four row repeat that is a cinch to remember. It's only mildly tedious and a good thing to have going when I need a break from the faroese.


I also finished the cotton socks. Note to self: you hate knitting cotton...even if it's only 50%. They are....okay, at best. Love the colors but the fabric itself leaves much to be desired.

I hate spring

The gardener in me cannot stay out of the backyard. I am drawn to it like moths to a flame and it kills me every day I stroll about. There's the lilac where Degan is buried, the crabapple the kids got me for Mother's Day, what, 12 years ago? The rose I dug up from Virginia's yard before she moved to Seattle, the July blooming irises from Diane's garden, the native Columbine I brought from the Whitingham house, along with the heliotrope from there. All the hostas and daylilies from Tom & Thomas....how can I ever replace these things? I can't take them all with me and if I could, what would I chose to leave behind? How could I ever decide. Each has its own history, its own memory and its own place in my heart.

These gardens, these plants have been such an enormous part of who I am and what I do for so long and I will never again have the time, incentive or health to reinvent similar gardens. And even if I could, they would never be the same. None would hold the memories, the stories, the joy of these.

I am drowning in spring fever with no place to take it. The sadness paralyzes me. When there is so much to be done, I want to climb under the covers and pretend this is all a bad dream. I need a dose of Maureen's wisdom to reframe myself...again. It's all I do lately. Emote, stifle, regroup; emote, stifle, regroup. Any and every possible distraction is seized upon like a drug...anything to keep from facing the reality of this state of being.

And I want to slap myself for it! It's not like I don't have a great place to go; it's not like it won't be quite wonderful in its own way, being there. I just hate that its not my idea but being shoved down my throat by the courts who saw Jim at his illustrious best as he spun out his false interpretation of the events. He's so good at lying, no one can top him and, without knowing him, he's so easy to believe. I can't go to the place that makes me so bitter about how our society treats women....I just can't go there.

I don't hate spring. I just hate this one.

Done in by a vacuum cleaner......

I love spring. I say this about virtually every season, but spring really IS my favorite. I drove to the airport yesterday (She's home!) and it was a visual delight all the way. I was assailed with every turn of the road by the stunning beauty of the crabapples, apples, pears, cherries and red buds, all in full and glorious bloom. It never ceases to take my breath away to see these 40' trees covered in flowers. The underpinnings of forsythia, azaleas, tulips, and daffodils made for a picture of riotous color and sensory overload. Even the dandelions made me happy. It's a trip I will miss...but only this time of year!

It's been an odd week of knitting. I got embroiled in a controversy on Ravelry with a KAL that went belly up. It didn't just fold, it imploded and the brouhaha that evolved was of mythic proportion. However, what started as anger and resentment, turned into laugh out loud humor, before coming full circle to anger and resentment once again. I won't even begin to describe it in any detail, because its a tale with so many twists and turns, it would take me all day to draw the frickin' map!

The plus side of it all was making some wonderful friends and sharing a ton of laughs...people can be so funny, given the freedom to express themselves and I sensed it was a first for many. Great to watch that spirit develop and to hear women who may not be used to voicing honest opinion, taking it on and reveling in it. Sergei must have thought I was nuts, laughing so hard at my computer screen, but then I question what perceptions of American society he's getting from living with me anyway!

The negative was that I did precious little knitting or much of anything else, reminding me once again how the computer sucks up time like a vacuum cleaner! I indulged myself even knowing it is NOT a luxury I have at all, but now the temptation has been removed and it's probably for the best.

The last 24 hours got very ugly and I've walked away, having been so misunderstood that I, in my foolishly hopeful way, made it worse by trying to explain myself. I was ultimately accused of name-calling and got several nasty messages about my words. Name-calling? Me! I, known for being the least judgmental person people know...name calling?! Anyway...it just shows how limited the one-dimensional medium of writing can be.

I got so upset and cried, feeling guilty, anger and sad. Then I got pissed...mostly at myself. 100,000 people may be dead in Myanmar and I'm sad because I was treated rudely? Get a frickin' grip!

So, in the end, I'm back to knitting as a solitary sport...and, in truth, not going to be doing even much of that. It really is time to kick into full gear with the move. Still not sure if it's going to happen next month or more into July, but I can no longer allow myself the luxury of being paralyzed over where to start.

Okay, I can hear movement upstairs. She's home!

The River Runs Deep......

......the river of denial, that is. While this cleaning, sorting, selling and reorganizing my stash has been great and I'm thrilled to have done it, the reality is that it probably (most certainly!) wouldn't have happened if it weren't for the move.

Some days, I'm pretty excited and see it all as a time of possibility and adventure...a new start, the next chapter, etc. Other times, I'm nearly overwhelmed with the reality that I am losing my home which I have poured heart and soul into for more than twenty years. It feels particularly hard of late as the snow melts and my thoughts turn to gardening. I stand and stare at the yard and think, "this is the year I'm dividing those irises" or "I really need to move that rose." I wonder if that wisteria I planted on the old play set will finally bloom. I'm itching to get out there and see how much winter damage there is, see what made it and what didn't.

And then I realize that, this year, none of that matters. I won't be moving that rose or dividing those irises. It doesn't matter what survived and what didn't because, in a few months, these won't be my gardens anymore. It's almost more than I can bear and I have to shove the thoughts away before they plunge me into a deep and heartfelt sadness.

So, I just keep knitting and cleaning and try not to think about it. My latest efforts at the former resulted in these socks.......



























...my first Koigus. I loved, loved the colors and the yarn is nice but it's a pretty short put-up which meant a fair amount of concern that I'd have enough yarn. Consequently, they are a bit shorter than I like my socks to be and I may have inadvertently made my first Christmas gift! It's a disappointment, for sure, but life is too short to wear socks that don't fit...hand made ones especially. Not worth frogging, I'll just give them away and make myself others someday. Such is life, I guess.

For Howie

A former teacher, colleague, mentor and neighbor was recently diagnosed with brain cancer. This is so tragic on so many levels, not the least of which is that he underwent open heart surgery a year ago and thought his health issues were behind him. Additionally, as an academic man, knowing your brain is killing you is a whammy he just doesn't need...but then, who does??

He's taking it all in great spirits, and is a convivial as ever. He and Dianne recently added a porch to their home so he says it's going to be one on-going porch party every night, as friends and colleagues stop in to visit. He's sent out a blanket invitation to the world it seems and people are gathering whenever the weather suits.

As per my usual desire to make/give/present something, I decided to make this vest from the Green Mountain Spinnery book. Not unlike Howie himself, it is elegant yet simple, classic without glitz and glam and one of those looks that will never go out of style. I hope to get it to him within the next day or two and hope he can use it on these evenings that aren't quite warm enough yet to be true porch weather.

Bless you Howie and fight on!


Heading off in an entirely different direction, my next project is: ta da! The Burninator! Trogdor! I found the pattern on Ravelry and don't know how I can avoid making it for Trevor. He will have to laugh his butt off! (I can't believe I'm going to knit a stuffed toy....can dishcloths be far behind????)

Have We All Gone Mad???!

As I woke up this morning and got dressed, pulling on a pair of socks I had made last year, I noticed they were looking a bit less than stellar. No holes or anything, but a few pills, a little loss in stitch definition, a bit faded. I've loved these socks and I wear them often. I thought back to making them and how much I had loved the yarn, how happy I was with the pattern I chose and how gorgeous they looked when finished, washed and blocked. I couldn't wait to get them on my feet! They were my first knit of this hot new yarn and I was more than satisfied with my choice to purchase it.

Now, here they are, a year later...much loved, much worn and still fitting perfectly. But they hardly continue to inspire awe. No one would look at them and ooh and ahh over their beauty. They are, after all, just socks. Well made, gorgeous, warm and a feat of some skill and talent but still, just socks. I pulled them onto my feet, shoved them into my slippers and proceeded to start my day. But the thought of them stayed with me as I did my morning chores.

I have recently become more active in Ravelry and am delighted to have such an amazing resource at my fingertips. I've added photos of recent projects (unlike this blog!), inventoried my stash and joined a few groups. One of these is a destash group where folks can trade or sell things they no longer want. Having just sorted through my own stash, this group intrigued me as a way to perhaps unload some of my own unloved yarns.

What happened instead is that I discovered all the new hot yarns and they are incredible! Luscious colors combined in such ways as to be works of art just sitting in the skein. But worked up, they become magic and, even without feeling them, I began to lust after many of them. I will confess I went a little nuts. I bought a bunch. Well, I traded some so it was not all money out of pocket, but I know I ended up adding to my stash rather than deleting from it.

The hottest, most sought after yarn at the moment seems to be this yarn from Germany - Wollmeise. The minute this name appears on the list, the response is immediate and posts get added like machine gun fire. People can't grab it fast enough! It looks gorgeous and I have no doubt its yummy to the touch and will make socks that will be magnificent. But here's the thing...it can sell for up to $40. In fact, I saw a skein on Ebay that was up to $70 and still had days to go before the bidding ended!

Simultaneously with watching this sock yarn get gobbled up at alarming prices, I saw the flurry of activity surrounding the latest WEBS sale. People are buying in boat loads at amazing prices and delighting in their scores of enough yarn for a sweater for $30 and enough for two sweaters and several summer tops for $50. Just the approach of this sale led to discussions of cleaning up credit cards, selling off stash...in other words doing all they could to insure plenty of buying power. And yet, we'll rush to buy yarn for a pair of socks for $70 and, if we can get it for $30-4o, come away feeling like we got a bargain? Have we all gone mad? My Gramma would be appalled. My Gramma would think I was nuts for spending $20 to make a pair of socks!

Socks to my Gramma, and for that matter mittens and hats too, were something you made with scraps leftover from other projects. The idea of contrasting heels and toes was not about fashion or artistry, but was about making use of small bits of yarn. It doesn't take much to do a heel so you found a bit in your stash bag that would work and you used it. In fact, the idea of a "stash" was not yarn you hoarded up from overbuying at a sale, but were those little bits and pieces left over from larger projects. As those bits became smaller, their usage changed...when it wasn't enough to be a heel or toe in a sock, it became a stripe in a hat or mittens. But nothing was thrown away until it really was "string too short to save."

Look at us now...we scramble over each other to get those hot yarns in those amazing colors and price becomes no object. Whatever the newest flavor of the day becomes, we all rush to get it. And in the end, we have socks. Beautiful, warm, well fitting and expertly made socks. We'll knit them, wash them lovingly and block them to their artistic best. And then we'll pull them onto our feet, sigh with delight at their feel and then shove them into our slippers and begin our day.

Catching up.........

It's been forever since I've done anything with this blog and, rather than go into all sorts of explanations and excuses as to why, I'll just add a few photos to catch up. It will say as much as anything why I haven't been writing!

This is the long suffering Maltese Shawl that I made for my sister. I have written all about the trials and tribulations it caused me in the VLT blog, so won't repeat that here. Needless to say, she loves it and I'm thrilled it's done!


I used Zephyr for this in the color coral and it was a bit pinker than I wanted but certainly more apricot than these photos. I adore the yarn...maybe even more so than the Alpaca Silk from WEBS??????



The next FO is a pair of socks for myself I did with the much advertised, but as yet to be determined, Step yarn from Austerman. It is loaded, treated, saturated (?) with aloe and jojoba oil and supposedly will make your feet soft as you wear them. I liked the yarn well enough and found the colors springy and enjoyable enough to knit. Just the standard pattern for my feet and we'll see if they become a favorite over time.



The other socks I recently finished are in the popular Monkey pattern from Cookie A - a hot new designer. It was fast and fun knit and, as alway, I do love working with CTH yarns. Shockingly, they are too big! I think I got so carried away with the pattern repeats that I made them about an inch too long. It's certainly no issue to frog and redo the toes, since that's all it will take, but have I done it? No. They sit here, awaiting their trial wearing.
I DO like looking at them though!!


Somehow, in the midst of the madness that has been the last few months, I decided to tackle some long overdue WIPs and finished off this entrelac bag. It's since been felted but still waits for handles to be truly done.

I'm happy enough with it and always love using up some of the old Nordic yarns!





Lastly, I finished off this Three Corned Shawl in Cherry Leaf pattern from VLT. I made it significantly smaller than the pattern asked since word was coming from others that it was absolutely gigantic as written. It was a great knit, loved it all...even the endlessly long rows towards the end. Now if I could just reconcile the fact that I really don't think I'm a shawl person, we'll be all set. I DO love making them but there is something very Jeremiah Puddleduckish about them that I'm struggling to overcome. I think my next attempt will be a rectangular stole shape. I continue with my passion for creating lace. This was done with the Malabrigo lace and I like it, loved the vinegar smell while knitting, but I'm not sure it holds a candle in my mind to Zephyr or the WEBS yarn. But then again, it doesn't have any silk to it. The colors are lovely.

The weather outside is frightful........

.......but inside, I'm thinking spring! I started this little number for DD yesterday and after a round of gauge issues, I'm finally off and running. It's one of the patterns I traded for from the Destash list and as soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect for my girl. Who knows if she'll like it, but it's a fun knit and not a tiny thread and a zillion yarnovers!

The yarn is actually a nice cotton - Mandarin Petit - with nice stitch definition and a soft feel. I just wished I liked knitting with cotton more...it feels so "dead" in my hands compared to wools. Maybe that's all in my head because I know it will stretch out and hang there... In any case, it's soft and a nice change of pace knit.

And yes, the weather is frightful! Snow, snow and more snow. It took this winter forever to get started but, now that it has, it won't leave! It's supposed to get windy later and be very stormy indeed. For now, it's just a strong, steady snowfall...beautiful, but I'm done with it just the same.

I finished the Three Cornered Shawl! I will block it later today and have photos up soon. I think I love it.

One done...two to go

I finished the Shoulder Shawl from VLT for Sharon and she loves it. I don't know what it is, but I have a complete brain lapse when it comes to adding the knitted on border. It's like I have never knit before in my life...I get all thumbs and can't imagine how to do it. So, once again, I picked up a bizillion stitches and did the peaked edge from the Swallowtail pattern.

It didn't block as well as I would have liked, but the yarn is drop dead gorgeous and I used less than one full skein! It's the gorgeous "Thistle" colorway from Handpainted Yarns and what a bargain that ended up being, since I expanded it to a full 281 stitches! For $5.95! It blocked out at 60" wide and 24" from top edge to center point. I wish I had pulled it a bit further down...making it longer and the lace edging more expanded, but that's what it is for now.

Now I'm plugging away on finishing the Three-Cornered Shawl, but I'm still loving this lace phase!

Project Harlot

There's the "Yarn Harlot" and then there's me... the "Project Harlot". The Victorian Lace Today book has me by the teeth and I currently have three different WIP.

First I started the Maltese Shawl...it's not blocked or anything but I just needed to get a photo of it. It's a slow go since each row is worked in pattern with no "rest row" so, as a reprieve from that when I'm feeling tired, I started.....




...the amazing Three Cornered Shawl. This little number begins with 684 stitches! I've actually started it twice, had a major error the first time and redid it. It was a heartbreaker since I had followed the directions and done an unreal e-loop cast on, making the first row one from hell. Never again. In fact, when I started over I did a typical cable cast on and it seems plenty loose enough. I have just reached the end of the first chart repeat.



I would probably be a lot further on both if I hadn't started the Shoulder Shawl.

This is the second one of these I've done and I thought it would be a quickie but...

I choose to use the incredible soft (and fine!) Handpainted Yarn lace weight so my gauge is completely off and I need to make it much larger than the pattern calls for.

In fact all of the above are in the same yarn...it is so soft, it's like silk and I love the weight. I will see what I really think when I have it all washed and blocked, but if it's anything like their heavier weight yarn, it will only get nicer.

Another Swallowtail finished

From this...









To this....









...another Swallowtail Scarf for mom's birthday. Made from Misti Alpaca in a glorious and succulent red for an 85 year old hot shot!


I failed to get a picture of the beautiful Shoulder Shawl from VLT that I made for Becky's going away gift. I did it with lovely yarn from Ebay's JoJo Land and it came out stunning!

Now I just need to finish the Maltese I am working on as well as the Three Cornered Shawl which I just love! Is there anything in this book I don't want to knit???? No!

Shawl Magic

First, it gets wet. I soaked for a good twenty minutes, shooting for the full immersion technique since this was my first attempt at blocking lace and I wanted it to be as pliable as possible!


















It's very hard to believe this pile of wet wool is going to turn into anything, never mind something beautiful and elegant!











Rolled in a towel and ready to begin the blocking process!





It's magic watching the transformation take place. It's also amazing how one slight adjustment and you have to move 1000 pins as a result! Around and around the bed I go....















Blurry shot but it's finally all pinned out and ready to dry. I am in awe of what I have done!






And yes, it DOES turn into something beautiful and elegant! Who knew?????

Some of the Christmas knitting....

The incredible Harrisville "Orchid Line" sweater I made for Kristin for Christmas. Wonderful yarn...a joy to work with and I loved how it turned out!










Chelsea's luscious mittens done in Kid Seta and Cool Wool. They feel like you are placing your hand into velvet. She loves them!






She also loves her cabled hat which was my own design. I loved the way the cables spiraled out of the top and wanted to work that design into a hat. Turns out it was exactly what my DD wanted, complete with braids!

What's keeping me busy right now......

The little Cables with Heart sweater for Sarah. The pattern is from the Arans & Celtics book. (I only list Amazon as the link as a means of giving you the info but would love to suggest you purchase it from your LYS instead.) The book is chock full of patterns I love and have every intention of making once the holiday knitting is done.

I'm doing this in Dale of Norway Freestyle - not a yarn I am enjoying much. I don't like superwash wools...don't like the sheen or slickness it gives the fibers, but how can you create a sweater for a three-year-old that isn't washable?

The whole thing is taking far longer than I dreamed it would....I mean, it's not that big!!



But here is a close up (sort of) of the miles and miles of seed stitch in this little sweater. It's a good thing I love the way it looks so much or this particular stitch would be eliminated from my repertoire!










The little sleeves. It's almost done! Good thing with Christmas only a few short weeks away! Not to mention, I'm sick to death of this color, this yarn and this seed stitch!!



On another note, here are the two Maple Leaves scarves from Jackie E-S. I love them! I do so love her designs and her patterns are so beautifully and clearly written, anyone could make them. I'm doing these in the Elann Baby Cashmere and they will grace someone this Christmas, but I'm not sure who just yet. Despite how stupid they look, they really are lucious and once blocked, will be gorgeous and yummy! I work on these when I can't take another moment of the sweater above. I'm trying to stick to one project, but it's really hard!

Just to strengthen my resolve (and get back to knitting!), I won't show the other WIPs right now. Shhh...we'll pretend these are the only two things I've got going.