The Post that Won't QuitMarch 23, 2006
I'm lying on the couch, the sun behind me, two dogs curled against me, and an angry Digit glaring at me from the dining room table. He'd really like to be on my stomach right now, but he can't quite get over the dogs. He's getting much closer, though, and doesn't run every time they walk past him anymore. Kind of a small cat-miracle, that. Digit, the cat who never, ever came off the tops of the kitchen cabinets when the dogs were visiting at my condo (even if they stayed for days, he stayed up there, only venturing to the kitty litter box in the dead of night), is now wandering the house almost at his leisure. He still hates to see the dogs coming. But he is tolerant now. He also has a LOT more room here. We all do.
Digit watches Harriet walk away.
Hey, I finished the wedding stole! I'll block it later today and take a picture for you. Promise.
Suddenly, I just realized what that meant. For the first time in a long time, I don't have a project. That. Is. So. Cool. That means I can go into my room and play with yarn and patterns and come up with something. What I really want to make is another handspun cardigan, a knock-arounder, but that requires spinning, and I'm so busy the next couple of weeks, that won't happen. (A wedding will do that to you, I hear. It's like having PMS, all the time. Sometimes good, something bad.)
Wait. Did I ever show you the handspun sweater that I DID finish? No? Sigh. I didn't think so. I finished it about three weeks ago, maybe a little more, during the throes of moving hell, so I wasn't in any mood to hurry and blog it. Plus, I didn't really like it when I finished it. I just kind of knitted it, no pattern, throwing math-like numbers on a piece of scratch paper when I felt like it, which sounds so very blase and don't-I-know-what-I'm-talking-about, and I was prepared to feel all proud of myself when it was done, but I wasn't because it kind of sucked. Okay, it didn't SUCK, but it just wasn't quite right. The back was the problem -- there was a lot of room back there. It was as if I had made the sweater for a person with boobs in the front AND back. Just kind of hung weird. When my shoulders moved, the back draped and swung, lifting the hem, showing the back bottom of whatever shirt I was wearing (or the top of my low-rise jeans, which while I understand that's the style for the kids today, I personally feel a little nekkid showing that particular area of skin). It was weird. Bell-like. (What's this I hear about reverse-ease and making a sweater with the circumference taken from under your armpits and not the chest? Anyone?)
But then I washed it (yes, washed!) in the machine (yes, machine!) and blocked it somewhat on the table, and it's okay now. Lala said now it looks like a normal sweater, and it's nice and warm, but I'm going to have to get over the initial disappointment I felt upon putting it on. I've only worn it once since I finished it.
Hey, that's TWICE lately I've been disappointed in something I've designed and knitted. Erg. I don't like that. But I do heartily love the stole, so that's something.
Anyway, your patience will get you everywhere. Here you go:
Blurry, but you get the gist of the fit.
More true to color -- it was a merino two-ply I made of a green/blue and a brown/orange, obtained at Deep Color in Kensington.
I realized when I finally sat down with my wheel here at the new house that this was left on it, ready to be plied, so I did, and now I can make a baby sweater, perhaps.
This post just keeps going, doesn't it? See, I'm doing like nine other things at the same time, wandering the house, doing laundry, thinking of things I MUST do today, and then I pop over here and write a little more. You used to get a lot of short posts, and lately you've been getting big ole long ones, not as reg'larly. Hope you don't mind.
But what that's good for is this: I just took a picture of the stole in its bath!
Next, I'm going to use the WASHER (which is still like a happy miracle every time I look at it or think of it) to spin it out.
This is a nice day. It's only 9:30, and I've been very busy since I got up. I suppose at some point I'll make breakfast, since my Cadbury Creme Egg and coffee isn't really the breakfast (heh, typo: breakfat) of champions. (Lala brought me TEN boxes the other day when I was in the absolute worst mood. She didn't even tell me, just let me grump my way into sleep, and then I found them in the morning, in front of the coffee machine. O, joy divine.)
Also, this is a reclaimed day, since it was an on-call day for me. Today I'm getting paid to be on-call, and you usually know whether or not you'll have to go in to work by 4am, which is when people are supposed to call in sick by. So you sleep rather badly until 4am, wondering if your phone is going to ring, and you don't make any plans, and you count on going to work, and you lay out your uniform, and then when they don't call, you get a whole nice unexpected day off. Loving it.
I'm really done rambling now. Have a good day, all.
(Oh! To you, and you know who you are, who have sent us gifts, bless you. We've had the MOST fun in the kitchen at night, opening boxes and squealing in bride-like joy. Okay, that's me. Lala's a little more suave about it. Thank you, thank you, thank you. xo)