Life's a Stitch

Hello from sunny Florida!

Need I say more 🙂

I bought the yarn for my first Clapotis thinking how beautiful and original the colours appeared. Time to break out of my rut, never used those colours before.

Or have I. Clapotis yarn, meet Lady Eleanor.

And then there’s the Silk Garden Poncho from way back when.

Even the bugs in my garden are fitting into my rut.

I vow that the next addition to my stash will not contain any combination of greens, turquoise, rust, and burgundy.

I’m taking a break from the other routines of work and mothering and, by the time most of you read this, will be on my way to Florida with two friends from grade school. I’ll be back in time to celebrate a birthday of historic proportions, as it will be the first time in my lifetime that the Ides of March will fall on the 2008 designated St. Patrick’s Day. Who knew? Could be fun…

"Clapotis, c’est fini! ‘ It’s a scarf:

"It’s a wrap!"

I have to confess, I was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I had bad thoughts about Clapotis prior to knitting one. I approached it with great trepidation and was equally rewarded. It’s prettier than anticipated and the dropped stitches don’t get caught on jewelry and buttons like I expected. Even the pooling and flashing evened out as the columns opened up.

Not sure I’d use a silk blend again; the stitch dropping part was interminable. No more than three stitches would run at a time, due to its velcro-like attachment. I’m afraid of future pilling as you could hear the stitches tearing apart from each other, leaving behind a trail of fuzz.

The size is perfect for 600 meters of yarn, stopping at half way through the sixth repeat in section two and adding two repeats to section three. I’ve done a lot of knitting and this is probably one of my most favourite functional items. # 2 is on its way:

I know I complain at times about our seemingly endless rain, but as our thick clouds begin to break, we do have a beautiful sky. Not bad for February, eh?

One of the benefits of an astronomy/physics major daughter are wonderful eclipse photos. She took this one last week. Just another example, that as in knitting, the right tools make all the difference in the world. And the moon, apparently:

If someone didn’t know what was going on, and overheard the teacher in the class area of Vancouver’s Birkeland Brothers yesterday, some eyebrows might have been raised.  "Poke the butt, poke the butt, poke the butt" she called out, reminding me of the nurse midwife of my past, fervently shouting out her orders "push, push, push, push, push." Just what was going on back there?

It was a needle felting class, of course. First we made a felted fried egg. Never know when that might come in handy.

Then came the mouse, the one whose butt received repetitive pokes. I think he’s cute, cute, cute considering we didn’t have a model from which to work. Kind hearted Pearl, the instructor, gave in on the previous afternoon, selling it to a woman who claimed her toothless chihuahua couldn’t live without it.

Really, I have no need for felted eggs or mice, but I might find the need for a felted Scottie dog or two. It’s from the book Fleece Dog, the one both Sandy and I bought during our visit to Patternworks last summer.

I find my life chronicled in my Mozilla bookmarks. Sprinkled amongst a thick blanket of blogs and patterns, I find I occasionally have a life outside of knitting:

"Bob’s Bum Knees" and "New Edge Polycentric Knee Brace" – gives me the willies.  Only good part of that experience was quality knitting time with my SIL.

"Prudies advice on how to tame the bride from hell" – it’s a wonder we all survived that phase unscathed. I really do have good memories of the wedding and the days surrounding the event and I’m pleased to report the couple is happily back in Edmonton after a stint in Moose Breath Jaw. As Elina says, you can’t expect too much of life while living in a place named after a part of a Moose’s anatomy.

"Slovakia feel the ooze thermal spas" – aahhhhh – Calgon, take me away

"Seven sins of first time renters" – hoping that the offspring will learn in advance online rather than by experience

"Organic wine no sulfites added" – didn’t help. The only cure for my wine induced headaches seems to be abstinence punctuated by an occasional Coors Lite. I figure we all get a lifetime allotment of alcohol and mine was unreasonably small. Damn.

"Freecycle.com" – a guiltfree way to get rid of, or accumulate stuff without parting with money,

Care to share your bookmarks?

Knitting update – Hemlock Ring the 2nd at 25%:

Apparently, I`m not only late to this the party, but the party is over. The Yahoo Clapotis KAL is all done. They wouldn`t even let me in the door. Tough noogies, I`m going to do it all by myself. Probably not ALL by myself as the Clapotis is the most popular pattern in Ravelry today, with 4521 in progress or finished and 2533 in the queue. that’s as compared to my own little Herringbone Rib Scarf which still has a way to go from being number 100 in the top 100 Ravelry scarves. With 28 listed to date, you’ve got to start somewhere.

I’ve read all the drawbacks – boring, repetitive, a yarn eater, but there are the accolades – addicting, easy, "I’m on my fourth." I’ve heard about the variety of mispronunciations; the one especially annoying to the designer – Clap Otis – sounding like a sexually transmitted disease. 

What’s the draw? Is it the permission to purposefully drop stitches? Accompanied by a petite gasp, I still cringe when I catch one out of the corner of my eye. That fleeting second of fear is followed by the relief of recognition, oh yeah, the pattern says to drop that stitch. Whatever it is, I’m hooked. Maybe it’s the ability to use the yarn in my stash, those 600 meter lots, too much for a scarf, not enough for a shawl. The yarn that cost a bit too much to justify a sweater. If you stop growing Clapotis after 6.5 repeats in the increase section, 600 meters does just fine.

Whatever the reason, I promise to be careful what I call it. Anyone care to join me for a Clap O`Tea?

I may be late to the party, but I’m pretty sure it’s not just me. On more than one occasion, I’ve been stopped on the street by fellow Pac NWers, asking how did I tie that scarf.

Are you a wrap arounder?

Or a loop de looper? AKA the CBC tie, as all Canadian Broadcasting Centre reporters in colder climes, sport this as what appears to be the company’s uniform scarf tying method.

Here’s my favourite alternative, as taught by the clerk in an accessory store at the mall in which my office is located. I once needed to dress up an outfit for our AGM and bought a scarf. As in paid money for it. In a retail store. Blasphemy.

You can skip the next two pictures if you already know the technique. First, you fold the scarf in half and put it around your neck as in the loop de loop method, but you only pull one end through:

Then you pull the second end through, only from the other side.

Tidy it up and you’re done:

Excuse Gracee’s snow nose, she has a bad case this year. Don’t worry, it will be black again by summer.  I think this is one of my all time favourite posts. Please ignore the dog’s dubious looks as she was most cooperative. How about a hand for our model.

You never know where it’ll show up. A friend found this online. Look carefully, there’s knitting content:

Is it my imagination, could it be Typepad’s hit counter, or is blogland slow this week?

Are you familiar with the book? It’s all about the knitting of prayer shawls to comfort those who are grieving or going through tough times. It’s a beautiful concept, and I decided to give it a go. I wove a shawl for the mom of our student intern, Carly, who died two years ago from Scerloderma. A co-worker mentioned that Carly’s sister might appreciate something as well, though not necessarily a shawl. We decided on a scarf. I chose light as clouds, soft brushed alpaca which came from South America, an area of the world that was important to Carly, combined with other pastel yarns.

It took a while, but finally they were done. I wrapped them up and there they sat in a corner of my bedroom for months. I don’t know what it was, but I was uncomfortable of the thought of presenting them to people I hardly knew. I guess I didn’t want to stir up more sadness for them.

One day, I was invited to a party and heard that Carly’ sister would  be there, too. I gathered up my courage and my boxes. As she was leaving that evening, I pulled her aside and explained to her what I had done, as well as my discomfort. I don’t know what I was thinking, they were so appreciative.

It ended up being OK, I think the comfort being that Carly is still very much alive in our hearts and making a difference in all of our lives. It’s been three years since she worked for us and we still refer to her good work regularly and I wanted her mom to know that. It’s a sad story with a bit of happiness attached to the end. One of life’s difficult mixes.