Thursday, August 30, 2007
It was my morning to take the kids to school and I had overslept, so everyone was in a big hurry. I don't like to hurry before I've had my full cup of coffee. I don't like to do anything before I've had my full cup of coffee. Weedinator likes to torment me by saying things like "good morning" just to annoy me and make me even more surly. Anyway. I had to take my coffee along and I don't do "to-go" cups. When I have to take my coffee with me, I'm a spoiled coffee-drinking princess and take the same mug I drink out of at home. I know this has the potential for disaster because it doesn't have a "safe" lid on top, but I like to live dangerously.
We rush out and the traffic is heavy, like it normally is. I am driving my Unsexy Minivan and I am driving fast because the Dimpled One insisted on playing the Barney CD and the faster I drive, the faster I can get back home and stop listening to that big stupid dinosaur sing about sunshine, rainbows, blue diamonds, yellow stars & green clovers (oh sorry, that's another character--they all blend together after a while). I keep glancing in my rearview because the little car behind me is right on my tail. I can't even see his front bumper, that's how close he is. And I keep thinking, if we have to stop suddenly, he'll probably hit me.
Guess what? We had to stop suddenly. Cars started braking ahead and I had to slam on brakes (even though I have coffee in one hand, I don't spill it...that's only for professionals, folks). When I hit my brakes, the little car rammed me.
Are you kids OK? Everybody all right back there? OK, good.
HE MADE ME SPILL MY COFFEE!!!
Now, here's where the story gets bad. I do not want to get out of the van. Why? Because in the morning's haste, all I had time for was the bare necessities: get the kids ready and fed. I had no time for myself. Therefore, my hair is NOT combed, my teeth are NOT brushed, and although I am wearing a decent shirt (i.e., not my pajama top), I am wearing NEITHER makeup NOR a bra. Oh, and I'm wearing my pink & white flannel pajama bottoms (the ones Weedinator charmingly refers to as "the no-action pajama pants"), which now have coffee all over them. In short, I look like A.Total.Freak. I do not want to get out of the van!!!
But of course I have to, so I sort of slink out in this ensemble that all the fashionable bums are wearing this season and the car's driver is already out. I can tell by his jacket that he goes to the high school that my kids will go to one day, so even though I don't know him, I still feel like we're part of the "school family." OK, I won't tear him a new one. I look at the back of the van and there's nothing there. No scratch, no dent. Thank heavens and I'm thankful not because of insurance or the potential repair inconvenience, but because this means the police won't have to be called and therefore, I can get back in the van. Plus, the kid driving the car looks utterly terrified. Terrified in that "oh crap I'm driving Daddy's car and I just hit the back of this Unsexy Minivan and OH.MY.HEAD. what is that getting out??" way. I tell him it's OK, no damage done and he's really thankful and I jump back in the van, where passing drivers can no longer crane their necks at the disheveled, bra-less, coffee-stained wretch on the side of the road (that would be me).
And I ask myself, why did this have to happen today of all days when I look like I'm the keynote speaker at a Hobo Convention? Why didn't this happen one of those days I was going to a homeroom parents meeting? It's not like I always take the kids to school in my pajama bottoms. Oh, I am so lying because I've taken them to school many, many times in those same bottoms. We do "drop-off" so I don't have to get out. Yet, I'm always worried that Animal Magnet's teacher will come out and flag me down: Um, Mrs. S? I'd like to talk to you about your son's essay about dropping little kitties down wells and how he can build a bomb out of a bobby pin, silly putty and a cork. Now would be good. Mrs. S?? Why are you driving away??
I will not take the kids to school in my pajama bottoms anymore.
I will get a to-go cup.
I will wake up on time each morning.
Lesson learned. Pin It Now!
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The leg part of this sock is Mosaic knitting, so you only knit with one color per row (in this case, 2 rows black, 2 rows pink). The Maze pattern comes from slipping stitches. I ripped back some of the leg because after trying the sock on, I didn't like the way the stitches were stretching. I kept the cuff, but went up in needles from 2.25 mm to 2.5 mm to accomodate the tightness.
To prevent that, I figured I'd use the Continental method for my left hand & English for my right. Now some months ago, I tried Continental knitting, mainly just to learn it. I practiced Continental, was glad to learn a new skill & went back to English. So using 2 different methods wasn't easy right off the bat. It took me rounds & rounds to get the right tension & even then, the yarn in my left hand felt awkward. I finally figured out a way to hold the yarn that felt somewhat comfortable. At least the yarns don't get tangled this way because the black skein sits to my right & the pink one sits to my left.
I think the reason I've never had Second Sock Syndrome is because of the learning experience of the first sock. By the time I get to sock #2, the process is much smoother. However, after studying this sock from many angles,
Patience, Grasshopper.Pin It Now!
Monday, August 20, 2007
The doorbell rings.
Me: Who is it?
**singsong voice** Your sanity, darling!
I fling the door open & Sanity almost steps in, but then she sees the Dimpled One standing next to me.
Sanity: Oh, the 2 year-old is still here.
Me: Um...yes...but, he'll be all right. Come in, come in! Quick!
Sanity: You know my policy. I don't live in a home with toddlers. Unless you have a current prescription of Valium.
Me: **cursing the absense of Valium**
Sanity: I'll see you when he starts preschool. Bye!
Me: Wait! Don't go!
But Sanity hops back in her sporty little car & zooms away, probably to my neighbor's house, whose kids are all old enough to be in school. Rats. However, with us being more on a schedule rather than my summertime regimen of "Wake me at your own risk," I feel my old routine kicking in. I wasn't feeling very excited about my current projects, so I cast on for a sock.
Maze pattern, Sensational Knitted Socks
We spent Saturday walking around St. Augustine, FL. As we drove though the tourist trap that is downtown St. Aug, I saw a man in a pink, terry-cloth halter dress. He wasn't trying to appear girly (I mean, except for the dress). He didn't have on makeup, didn't have long hair; as a matter of fact, he had a goatee. And the dress. #1 Girl saw him, too. She asked: Why is that man wearing a dress?? (I swear, they don't tell you about this stuff in the parenting manuals. Why is there no chapter entitled "What to Tell the Kids when They Ask About a Man in a Pink, Terry-Cloth Halter Dress"? I always have to wing it.) I answered "Because he's hot, honey." And remember my muttering about the too-long sleeves in my last post? Here's a shirt I picked up at Gap:
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Designer: Lynn Gates
Queensland Collection Llama Seta, Color #01 (80% alpaca, 20% silk)
Needles: US size 7 & 8
It's finally done. This is an easily contructed sweater, but since it's knit in 4 sections (left front & back, right front & back with increasing done for the sleeves), there's a lot of seaming. A lot of seaming. Because the seams show on much of the garment, I took all day Sunday doing them so that they'd be nice & neat.
shoulder & sleeve detail
Modifications: I did a seed stitch border instead of the garter stitch the pattern called for.
seed stitch neckline
One thing about the sleeves: they're too long. I had this fear the whole time I was knitting this sweater that the sleeves would be that way. I'm short, so I often have this problem. Since the sleeves aren't knit vertically, but are instead made by increasing along the body, I couldn't exactly get accurate measurements while knitting. I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to try & fix it (it's not as simple as ripping back; I'd probably have to reinforce with sewing & then cut). My advice for anyone contemplating knitting this is to keep that in mind. For the petite among us, you can probably skip that last 8-stitch increase so that you'll have 70 stitches for the sleeve instead of 78.
Love the way the yarn drapes
I'm going to set it aside & mull over the sleeve issue. While I don't mind my sleeves hanging over my wrists a little, I don't want them flopping around. I may block it again & see if that helps. So overall, I'm about 90% happy with it.
This brings my WIP count down to 2 (woo hoo!).Pin It Now!
Friday, August 3, 2007
Today's title is not the first time I've seen the question posed. It comes up in knitting forums now & then and the answers vary wildly. Unfortunately, sometimes it gets heated or controversial & bloggers feel the need to defend themselves. People who ask for comments are labeled comment ho's, which I feel is unfair (can you comment on that? Just kidding.). Some of the criticism borders on the ridiculous. The point is, what's a good knit blog to me may not be a good knit blog to someone else. Everyone's tastes are different, which is what makes the world such an interesting place. Plus, we don't all blog for the same reasons. Some knitters blog mainly for themselves or family & don't care if they get 1 comment a day (so no one needs to ask them, why even blog? It's their blog; if no one but them reads it & it makes them happy, that's good enough for me).
I started my blog as a way to keep visual track of my projects and progress; the neat people I've "met" along the way has been a bonus. I'm not here to give my political viewpoints or tell you what color undies I'm wearing (comment with your guesses. Again, just kidding!), but I think it'd be much more stale if I only talked about knitting. I do have a family & a life outside of the internet & giving you little tidbits here & there make me seem less like a person who only cares about yarn.
I guess it bugs me to see an innocent question degenerate into name-calling and such...ugliness. If you don't like a blog (either because there's just too much going on or the blogger talks about her cats too much or whatever), just.move.on. I used to read a knit blog that once posted a long political diatribe. I can talk to people whose political viewpoints differ from my own, but this was a little over-the-top for me, so I don't read that blog anymore. That's it. No commenting to the blogger that she didn't have to post that & what an idiot she must be or any other nonsense. I just don't read it anymore. Easy enough. With all the ugliness in the world already, it saddens me to see people who are united in their craft tear each other down over trivial matters. Because in the grand scheme of things, a knit blog is not as important as children starving or being abused or people who live in countries where the "authorities" don't even protect you.
A blog can be an escape, a tiny bit of beauty and camaraderie in the midst of chaos. Instead of hiding behind the relative anonymity of the 'net & being nasty to one another, this can be our little community sticking together & spreading good in a world that desperately needs more. We create beautiful things with our hands every day; we can create beautiful words the same way.
Have a great weekend! Pin It Now!
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Anna at Anna's Yarn Mansion - she knits her own sidekicks!
Nettie at Knitology - she knits, she writes scripts, she has 4 kids...*whew*
Marce at The Brown Berry Chronicles - for the beautiful knits & roundtable discussions.
Stacey at Crimson Purl - she finally conquered socks, yay!
That cool chica at Gimmesanity - because she's so funny & she has a cute little Monkey.
'Til next time... Pin It Now!
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Dolman pullover, 2 completed sectionsAlso, I've been wading in the sea of Long-Term Projects. There are at least a couple of projects I want to do next (see Ravelry), but I have to finish these WIPs first; or else they'll languish even longer.