Life's a Stitch

In high school we used to keep track of Eddie Haskell points when the boys would make a positive comment to somebody’s mother as in Leave It To Beaver. “My, Mrs. Cleaver, you look lovely today.” On Saturday night we took our daughters and their respective boyfriends out for dinner. Eldest daughter’s new boyfriend says to her “I like that thing your mother is wearing, it looks good on her.” Score two points, Eddie, that thing being my Noro Silk Garden Very Harlot Poncho. Now, if there is such a thing as Eddie Haskell points, there must be a way to earn negative points. Enter DH, Chuck. He is the love of my life, however, when we were talking about my felted hat he comments, “Isn’t it amazing that through dumb luck it fits perfectly.” It was innocent enough I suppose (my kids always told me that when they asked me for something I wasn’t wild about, I would answer, “I suppose”). Now enter youngest child, the 14-yr-old son who can’t give up on the fact that blogging must be for younger folk. He says, “you’re trying to feel all young and everything using computer terms like DH.” I come from a family of anti-Eddies.

Knitting content: A completed GGH Fee scarf.

I saw a sweater in the Ram Wools Catalogue today – the Autumn Silk Cardigan. It is made from Estelle Tussah Silk. I hope it is not a smelly silk. It is tempting me.

I crave comfort and I achieve it in many ways: sensible shoes, warm clothes, soft as silk knitted scarves, good soup recipes… My desk chair at work is the ultimate in my quest for comfort and being a floor model, it was a bargain. Two of my favourite things. My chair has memory foam cushions, keeping my tushy cushy. If I leave this job, I will offer to buy my chair.

And now I have a comfy hat. It fits perfectly, covers the top of my ears and doesn’t mess with my hair. The felting process was a bit nerve racking, as I had never felted Cascade 220 before, and I didn’t want to take risks sizewise. It’s amazing how a knitted sack can become a fitted hat. Important lesson: don’t overstretch a felted item. I decided to try and stretch my hat a bit, thinking it was strong as steel. It isn’t. I now have a tear in my hat. It’s small and nobody will notice except me, that is, unless I keep pointing it out to people! Why so I have to point out little mistakes like dropped stitches and small tears?

This is a link to a free version of the pattern.

I have started my Fleece Artist narrow scarf five times. No matter how I interpret the pattern, it never comes out with the right yarn on the right side. You start with a two colour cast on and end up knitting one row of each colour by sliding the stitches to the other end of the circular needles, every other row, instead of turning your work. I finally gave up and waited until I could hook up with someone else who hade done one. She had the same problem. Either we are both clueless or there is a problem with the pattern. We’ve made an adjustment and it seems to be working. It is gorgeous wool, though.

Our lack of light in the Pacific Northwest makes us a little on the crazy side, so I savor the last days of sunlight. Here is a last gasp of fall. I’ve said it before, I really miss East Coast colours. I bought this tree to add autumn colour to my life. It’s working.

Last weekend’s wall work:

My first and only political comment so far:  I’m glad to be living in Canada.

Thanks to a 50% off Joann coupon, I just received the Boye Hookmaster set – a complete set of crochet hook nestled neatly in their own pouch. I am not yet a crocheter but do use these for edges, ruffles, and picking up dreaded dropped stitches. If I get into crocheting seriously I doubt these will be the hooks I’d want to use. It seems to me that the Boye hooks I had in college were smooth, each a different colour of cast aluminum. The new larger hooks are rough to the touch and the colours are much brighter. I suspect that they make them differently these days – all the same hooks painted to achieve the colour difference. They don’t glide like they used to. If the Needlemaster interchangeable knitting needle set is produced the same way, I’ll steer clear of them. I’m sticking with my not-quite-perfect Denise set, my trusty Addi circulars and bamboo straights.

I was just in WalMart and saw a new Lion Brand yarn – Moonlight Mohair. I couldn’t believe it – it looks so similar to Trendsetter Dune, it’s washable and it’s far more reasonable in price.

Progress on the felted hat: I know it looks similar to Mari’s poncho in the thumbnail, but click on it and see the nicely defined stitches, a big difference between Cascade and fuzzy Divine.

Have a nice weekend.

Yesterday I was reading our liability insurance policy at work. Understandably it now has an exclusion for terrorist activities, but another one tickled my funny bone. I know there are serious health concerns related to this problem, but to see it spelled out put my imagination into overtime. Our most recent exclusion is for funghi. I pictured mushrooms sprouting in people’s offices and employees accidentally ingesting the wrong kind. I must have needed to laugh. A little humour in the workplace never killed anybody. I used to work in an office with a boss who didn’t allow laughter. It was a bizarre situation. Now I’m the boss and consider laughter very healthy. I’m sure at times it might be inappropriate, but I trust people’s good judgment.

I have been making a concerted effort to finish lots of little UFO’s. I know this sounds pessimistic in the knitting world, but every started object is an unfinished object. My list was growing too long. This is the latest, the re-knitting of the Fiesta La Boheme disasterpiece.

Great wall update – this is the delivery of the blocks. The trenches have been dug and the first one should be positioned soon. Not your average do-it-yourself job.

Think Gilda Radner’s Emily Litella voice: “What’s this fuss I hear about change management?” The task of managing change has become a money maker and change has provided an arena for recreational whining. I’m generally from the I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, get a grip camp. HELLO, change is a part of life, make the best of it, roll with the punches and all of those clichés.

So, back to the home front. In a blink of an eye, I have been demoted to the shortest being in the house besides the Scottie body, and last night, for the first time, outnumbered by males. I been used to two daughters, a female foreign student, me, and the two guys. That makes it 4 to 2, not counting the dog. Last night with the daughters at school, the Swiss Miss on a tour of the Rockies, and Mari’s newly unemployed boyfriend camping out at our place, exchanging brute labour helping with the Great Wall for a couple of home cooked meals, I was outnumbered, 3 to 1. “It’s not like it used to be,” she whined. When I talk to the others in my house I have to look up. The toilet seats are consistently up and the entry is full of huge shoes.

“What’s this I hear about change management? Oh, never mind.”

Lots of good knitting happening. I’m particularly excited about my felted brimmed hat made out of Cascade 220 Tweed in a charcoal grey.

I’m beginning to think I dreamed up that yarn with the little balls of snow (see October 21st.). I was sure I saw it at a particular knit shop, but even they were at a loss to suggest what it might be. It bugs me, next time I’ll write it down. At the time, though, I didn’t think I wanted to use it for anything so there was no motivation to remember it.

I love the expression “knits up fast.” In my experience the yarn is as fast as the knitter and is a function of the weight and loft of the fibre. So knits up fast must mean it’s loftier than most. I’m looking for sock yarn that knits up fast. No such animal. How about a lace weight? Keep dreaming, Li.

But Paton’s Divine fit the bill. That was definitely yarn that knit up fast. Three skeins later, a magical fluffy poncho! My friend Marsha, bought the same in an apricot colour, which is a beautiful colour on her. Her poncho will look like fluffy clouds from a BC November sunset.

I know it’s Monday because I’m all charged up. My cell phone, Chuck’s cell, my PDA, the digital camera, the laptop… When I designed our renovation I had no idea how many wall outlets I should have planned. Those were the days before we owned any of that stuff. That’s what I like about knitting, it’s so simple, mostly portable, and doesn’t plug into a wall.

I can’t believe a cell phone is so much a part of my life. I’ve referred to it in three postings. I don’t use it all that often, like the woman I see every day, walking her three golden retrievers, phone permanently attached to her ear.

My cell phone bucks like a chicken. Buck buck buck buck buck buck, buaaaak buck buck buck. Repeat. I like it, my kids think I’m nuts. They like my lame play on words even less, “Where’s my buckin phone?” For my last b-day my son got me New York, New York for my ring tone. It was a good fit being from New York. At knit night, a mom of a toddler has a recording of her child screaming “Mom, your phone is ringing, pick up your phone.” Very cute. This all seems so out of character since I’m not generally one who goes for cutesy. I think of me as very practical. But then again, I have a phone that bucks.

Weekend knitting included my GGH Fee scarf.

Thanks for all the good wishes for my MRI. Call me a sick puppy, I found it relaxing. Having had two glasses of wine I laid back and listened to white noise. I find the dentist relaxing, too, once past the injection. I took your advice and treated myself to some yarn. Photos later this week; a fleece artists scarf and Cascade for a felted brimmed hat. And thanks to Stephanie, Melissa and Megan for the ROAK e-cards. I really appreciate those bright spots in my day.

Mr. Kissing Booth won first prize in the costume contest at school.

Food – I love to buy it, I love to cook it, I love to eat it, I love to serve it. Melty, cheesy, salty, spicy, crunchy, savoury, beefy, fresh and fishy, still dripping with seawater. But not sweet. I don’t have a sweet tooth, thank goodness. I worry about my love affair with food.

The photo is of a girl’s night my daughter hosted this summer. I was invited. Those are pathetically small lobsters they sell here for $8.99 Cdn every June. They were very good, but I sure miss the East Coast for lobster.

Yarn, I love yarn… Uh-oh, here she goes again. Squishy, fragrant, feltable, soft, softer, hairy, shiny metallic, full of colour. Hey, I’m a poet and didn’t know it. OK you beatniks, click those fingers.

OK, I haven’t totally lost it. It is nerves talking before an MRI. I have a date this evening for a Friday night MRI, a plea bargain in the socialized medicine world. If you come in on a Friday night, we’ll get you in a couple of weeks early.

Look what arrived today! That is 14 pallets of grown up Legos for our retaining wall. Taking bets on how long this will take.

Have a good weekend and a fun Halloween. Bryant, the 14-yr-old, had to wear a costume to school yesterday. He went dressed up as a kissing booth. This is at the school that didn’t approve of the devil hat. He has fun stretching the limits.

That describes tonight. My knitting toys are one of the most organized parts of my life. It provides balance to some of my other parts. When I discovered that I owned two pairs of Addi Turbos , size 3, 32 inch length, I felt out of control of my knitting life. How could I have bought two pairs of the same expensive needle? How many other duplicates did I have? That did it. I decided to frog everything I had no intentions finishing in order to recover MIA needles. I stopped at the chenille sweater, but managed to decimate three baby booties and a pair of slippers. It was cathartic. Tomorrow – the inventory. I look at it this way – an opportunity to find out what needles I need to buy.

A more constructive project, the official Caryl’s kerchief protrait: