Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Every Day Like Sunday

Ah Sundays. I get up just in time to watch Sunday Morning. That's 90 minutes of knitting time. The cats hit their preferred sleeping spots and lounge around with me.

I wish everyday were like Sunday. Alas, the bills must be paid and money doesn't come rolling in while I'm glued to the couch surrounded by balls of yarn, knitting needles, tape measures and sleeping cats.

Works in Process

This 12 month size pullover is created out of the scratchiest sock yarn and you may ask yourself why I bothered. Well, it was, um, cheeep and I wanted to work out a pattern of my own brain without sacrificing my better stock. It's Patons and though the color variation is lovely the fibers are short and were in my eyes, up my nose and very irritating. I ripped it apart a couple times; the wool held up to the abuse so it suited my purpose.
I mentioned my sister scored alpaca at a Chinese auction. A gorgeous red 2-ply worsted from Plymouth yarn.

I'm not sure whether to wear it when I finish or just have it around to pick up and squish. More on this after a good blocking.

The Done Stuff

The Aran Vine.
Just as a reminder I fashioned this after a tree in my back yard that has ivy vine choking it. I have a new favorite cable. The braid on the arm is fun to do and works quickly.


Da Orange One
This started out in design to be a cardigan but as usual, the designer changed her mind and left the steek in and called it a pullover.

Set in sleeves and corrugated rib. All sweaters constructed top-down/seamless.

I had to do a plain rib on the neckline so my fat head could get through. Corrugated rib is not as flexible and as it was supposed to be a cardigan I joined the front sooner than I would a pullover. Of course, since I designed it -can't be wrong.

There are pairs of socks (in yummy soft, non scratchy sock yarn) too numerous to photo. As the end of February approaches thoughts of lighter spring knits are on my mind. So much to knit, so little room left to store it.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Brain Numb

Be it snowstorms, meetings, cancellations, more meetings, the bottom line- I've reached my limit. Pooped. I love winter but not enjoying it. I would like, and I'm asking nicely, to have a long weekend where I am not moving snow or making up time at work. I would like to go to sleep at night and not wonder if my garage roof is about to collapse from the load of snow or if the icicles hanging from the sides of my house roof are a precursor to interior damage. This winter has been worrisome. I don't mind the snow, really. It's pretty and being the "house plant" that I am,  "stuck" indoors is not a hardship to me. I'm trying to spin this into a positive but my brain has gone numb. I hope it's a temporary condition.
 I'm still able to turn a heel. Other projects include an open sweater in alpaca yarn my sister scored at a Chinese Auction. Baby Alpaca, mmmmmmm. I have another alpaca project in my bag that I've been ignoring. Still trying to decide on a design for body of the sweater because my first idea isn't going to work. If it were worsted I'd just do SOMETHING and rip it out if I didn't like it but this is lace weight on 2's so I want to be happy after I spend hours and hours with tiny thread and needles. That's it, I just want to be happy.
 This sight gets me every. time. This and when a thin layer of ice has formed on branches and sparkles when the sun hits it.
 Look at that roof. EEsh.Hold in there baby! I'd remove it myself but there's not a roof rake to be found. I've lived in New England all my life and have owned this house over 20 years and kick myself in the butt every winter for not ponying up the $40 for a roof rake. BEFORE it snows.
 This little guy makes an appearance every morning to grab a snack and chatter. He doesn't like it when I scrape my windshield before going to work. I imagine he thinks I'm after the thistle seed. I've never tried thistle seed so he may have a right to be concerned.
Icicles are so beautiful and so destructive. I love how the sky goes from purple to gray to blue with a yellowish cloud. All that color of light reflecting on the snow and in the ice, I stand there and stare at it. Yes, the neighbors think I'm odd. But after 20 years, better the nuts you know than the nuts you don't.

Beau looks so sweet. So angelic. Those of you who have a ginger tabby know this to be false most of the time. He's like a two year old on caffeine. After he tears around the house, crossing furniture he has been told not to lay a paw on, tosses all the "toys" in the basket, he crashes into a deep sleep, recharges his battery for the next session. His brother Andrew takes a lot of his abuse and though Andrew outweighs him by 5 pounds I do have to step in once in a while and end the torture. Andrew could toss HIM across the room but he's such a gentle guy he's never done it. In my line of sight anyway. No, Beau is my challenge and I love him to pieces. I've got two of the best cats ever.