Sockalooloo

In between all of my cowl knitting, I have been working on my old Knitting Olympics/Ravelympics sweater. I'm plodding along without much motivation, but it is a brainless sweater that cruises along. Now that I have the front, back, and hood done, you'd think I would crank out the sleeves and be done with it. You'd think wrong. Instead, I've been working on a pair of socks. I dug out some yarn I scored at last year's SnB Holiday PartySwampamajig and balled it (I'm a Baller, yo), but wasn't sure what I was going to do with it. I batted around the idea of pedicure socks but couldn't commit. So I started the cuff and then carried it around in my knitting bag. Because you know, why not carry around random yarn?


It turns out my aimlessness was fortuitous as Linda is making a pair of socks and recommended the pattern she is using for my yarn and badabing badabang, I got me some actual socks on the needles.

Though this picture is some what crappy as one of my beloved little snowflakes took the camera battery out of the charger and put it ... somewhere unknown to me (JERK!), and I had to use our old camera, it doesn't totally hide an error I made in one of the socks. I was watching the snooze fest that was this year's Oscars and was moving along nicely until BAM, Jude Law and Robert Downey, Jr. appeared and were entertaining. That split second of shock was enough to have me all hinky in my sock. But not so hinky that I ripped back. I did tink, but the tinking is noticeable and yet, I am okay with it. One might consider this a sign that my kids have started to beat me down. If it gets much worse, if I let errors roam free, please stage an intervention.

Still in Rotation

Quite some time ago, I knit Jillian a sweater. And, because, miraculously, I am not the worst parent in the world, the child has managed to grow. And grow. And so the sweater I slaved over no longer fits. Now, I suspect you think I am going to now tell you how I knit her another sweater, which, um, whoops! Not so much. Just because I am not The Worst Parent, I am also not The Best and so the kid has absolutely no handknits. Not a one. With this winter being cold, she could have used one so, negative points for me. Anyway, I did knit that one baby sweater, and guess what, I got me a baby who is wearing it.



Jillian was much younger when she wore this sweater and so she didn't beat it up too much. Juliet The Destroyer seems to grow at a slower rate, and is also smaller than Jillian was, so the sweater is getting a lot of wear. Which is good. And the sweater is actually holding up. Which is also good.

Under Pressure

I decided to sign up for the Knitting Olympics, which, quite dorkie, I KNOW. But still. Short of fingernail painting becoming an Olympic sport, I really can't see my advance-maternal-age-assed self entering the real Olympics any time soon, or ever. So yah, the Knitting Olympics, my chance at a gold metal.

What this entails is picking a project that would be a challenge for you to complete in seventeen days. And then you know, COMPLETING IT. You start it once the Olympic flame is lit and have to finish before the flame is extinguished. Straight forward. Well, except for the whole picking a project that is challenging. I am by no means an expert knitter. I am, however, somewhat educated and have good reading comprehension skills (so sayeth the SAT's). So there are very few knitting things that I have come across that are too challenging once I read the pattern. Granted, I am lazy and so the whole READING THE PATTERN? That can the be the challenge (ergo why I hate knitting lace charts). All of this is my verbose way of rationalizing why I am picking a simple sweater as my Knitting Olympics event. I picked the Holla Hoodie, a stockinette sweater with a few cables here and there. A sweater that even Knitty.com labeled "tangy" which means so simple a blind, one-armed monkey could do it. But this sweater, despite its easy skill level, will be a challenge. Honestly.

If you are observant, you might notice that Holla is listed on my sidebar as one percent done. This is not because I am a cheater and jumped the gun. No, this highlights why I chose this as my Knitting Olympics project. Several months ago (pre-baby #2) I started this sweater. I cast on an insane amount of stitches, realized my gauge was fucked, and quit. I quit because I was too lazy and time-deprived to knit a proper gauge swatch and start again. Thus, what seems to be my biggest knitting challenge right now is time. It use to be I could knit at work. I could knit at home after work. I could pretty much knit whenever the mood struck. Now, I only knit for a few hours a week when I meet my lady friends at Starbucks. The rest of my free time is eaten up by dishes, laundry, and dishes. So I am committing that for seventeen days, I am going to use my free time to knit a sweater. I am also probably going to use some of my work time (uh Elmo, can you babysit?) to knit a sweater. Because whatever it takes, did I mention ELMO???, I am going to knit that sweater.

Now this all sounds great and I sound very GO SWEATER! But. But, more observation would note that there is another sweater, the Kangaroo Duo, sitting over there on my side bar. Minimal investigation shows that this sweater has been sitting in a pile, unworked on, since November 2007. Yes, that sweater has been on sleeve island for over two years. Apparently I have absolutely no follow-through when it comes to sweaters. So, in addition to the time challenge, there is also the finishing a sweater challenge. I am hoping that the pressure of signing up for something, of publicly putting it out there, that this is enough to make me Git R Done, and, at the end of the seventeen days I will have a sweater, and a gold metal.

Ragamuffin

No more teasing ...



One baby raglan sweater DONE! Of course, now that she has a sweater the weather has become decidedly warmer. It is nice knowing I have this much power over global warming. Call me Obama, you need not spend gazillions of our dollars on your green projects, I got this global warming thing covered!



But back to the sweater. It was an incredibly easy knit. And, if I wasn't so gefilte at seaming, I would make it over and over again. Especially since it not only will keep LB warm, it will also entertain her!




The rolled band was a little hinky when all was said and done. I assume this was my knitting, tension, and such and that a more advanced knitter could fix that glitch, or avoid it all together. Anywho, it rolled a lot more on the bottom than elsewhere, and it didn't roll uniformly, but I seemed to have fixed most of that with blocking. It still doesn't roll exactly evenly, but it isn't so far off that I scream "EGADS!" when I see it. I also ended up tacking down the rolls on the neck at each raglan seam. This stabilized the roll and made it more uniform. This also made the neck hole a little larger, which, it turns out, is perfect for our needs. I envision this as a going-over-other-stuff, almost outerwear, sweater. So a big head hole is good. Also, it makes it easier to get the Bean into it.



This sweater was an awesomely quick knit. Nonetheless, it still took me two inches too long. Which is to say, when I started this sweater LB had a twenty inch belly. When I finished it, she had a twenty-two inch belly. This was bad as the sweater was a wee bit tight on the gut. Even though it was quick to knit, I didn't want to do it over again. So, instead of ripping out or re-doing, I rigged it. I knit two two inch pieces and then seemed them into the sides.



It is only noticeable on close inspection or if you lay the sweater flat. Thank you busy-pattern furry yarn for your camouflaging properties. Overall I am pleased with this and expect that it will get a lot of use. You know, if it ever gets cold again. Or rather, cold before someone has a twenty-five inch belly!

Yarn: Filatura Di Crosa, Sympathie, Color 3, Lot 3082, 3.5 skeins (note: I double-stranded the yarn). I think this yarn may be discontinued - it was from my aunt's stash. It is 45% wool, 35% mohair and 20% acrylic.
Needles: Susan Bates Circ, size 5.0 mm (US 8)
Pattern: Raglan Sweater, Debbie Bliss, The Baby Knits Book
Modifications: Added a two-inch placket (seven st. wide) to each side seem.
Time: Not sure - about two weeks.
Care: Hand wash cold and dry flat in shade or dry clean.

T is for ...

Tease.

I'm quite melancholy since the election results came in and so I decided that I needed some fun. I cranked the air conditioning and had Lady Bean model for a photo shoot of the sweater. Nothing like a model blowing raspberries at you to cheer you up. Until I get around to doing the finished object shots, here is a teaser ...


Sweater, pre-blocking, with wonky bottom roll:



Sweater, post-blocking, with slightly less wonky bottom roll:

Delayed

I had intended to take a cute animal picture and post it with some "Happy Halloween" sentiments. Unfortunately the only sentiment I seemed to capture was one in which it looks like Cat is dropping a deuce in a candy bowl ...



In other news the sweater is done and blocked and waiting for a day cool enough to be worn and photographed.

Practical

Boo: What are you guys going to do today?
Me: I'm thinking H.
Boo: Ok. Make sure you don't share needles.
Me: Not even LB and me?
Boo: Nope. It's never too soon to teach her good needle hygiene.

And, in other news, the sweater is done. I just have to seam!

NaBloPoMo, xiii

Someone had a bee up her bonnet yesterday, huh? I have issues with all the fuckers in this world that think they deserve a hand-out, or even a hand-up, just because they are breathing. Lack of personal responsibility is one of my pet peeves, and with everyone telling me I should sue or something because my employer owed me more than two weeks, well, it got me going. But I'm over it. So there ya go. Let's move on to rainbows, cotton candy and knitted delights.



Why yes, those are some work-in-progress shots of my sweater! Not because the pictures are all that great or fascinating, or that my sweater sleeve is almost done; mostly because I am running out of things to say. I figure if I am going to say them again (i.e., I worked on the sleeve some more), I should at least provide pictures.

You'll notice, if you look very closely and squint, that the sleeve seems to be switching colors. This happened despite my knitting from two balls at once because I am the opposite of slick. That is to say, I did knit from two balls at once. It's just that I started at the same point, with each ball new, so that I ran out of each ball at the same time. So basically all of that switching was for not. I just created a bigger area before the color change. So, I'm a creating a new category, a new thing with knitting rules for my feeble mind, a section consisting of "notes-to-self." Now normally my note-to-self is something along the lines of, 'X sits bare-assed on public toilet seats; note-to-self, don't sit on seat after X.'* But I evolve, I learn, and I grow. So, I'm expanding my notes-to-self to include useful knitting knowledge in the hope that it prevents further calamities ...

Note-to-self, when using two balls of hand-dyed yarn to provide color uniformity or mask color non-uniformity in large knitted piece, start knitting the balls from different points so that you don't run out of the two balls at once creating one big block of what you were trying to avoid. If you mess this up you'll need to add a third ball into the mix and that is a royal pain in the arse.

Okay, well, hmmm, that is hardly a succinct little gem. I'll have to work on it. And, speaking of working on it, I found the missing jaywalker socks, so I could, hypothetically, start working on them too!

* That one is for BeFri. She was dating X and almost spit Diet Coke on me when that particular note-to-self came into fruition.

NaBloPoMo, i

Today marks my first post of NaBloPoMo, and hopefully somewhere along day four or so of this month long blog posting festorama, I will quit stumbling every time I type NaBloPoMo. Otherwise this is going to be a very long month as far as my fingers are concerned.

Anywho, I've been somewhat lax about keeping you up to date (in case you're curious, up to date and the hyphen situation was making me twitch, I've decided to go with no hyphen as I am using it as a verb and not a one word type of adjective thing, this could be wrong, I don't know for sure and Strunk and White are currently out of my reach, just know that I did think about this as I didn't want to make your eyes bleed, because me, I care) on my knitting progress, which I know disturbs (and saddens) you to no end. My apologies.


As for the sweater of doom, I mean the sweater that I absolutely love to bits, it is coming along. Slowly. I've gotten a couple inches done on one sleeve and am trying to knit at least two rows a night. At this rate it should be ready in 2010. Fortunately, well for purposes of sleeve knitting anyway, I have midget arms, so the sleeves shouldn't take too long once all the decreases start to take effect. If I had normal arms we'd be looking at 2012 or so, I'm sure.


As for the Socktober socks, yah, well I was going to cheat and make them peds so I could finish them in time, but, um, I didn't even get that far. I have two toes and one and one half feet. I need some more foot, some heel and some leg and I'll be good. Unlike the socks which are not striping good (or for the grammar police, well, which doesn't have the same symmetry as good, but is actually the right word choice, I think, again Strunk and White have deserted me). I like the stripes clean, sharp and demarcated. I've got that. But I wish that the stripes were different widths. These stripes are all the same widths and this does little for me.


And, in case you were curious, the Limited Edition Elvis Presley Reese's peanut butter cups are not good. I repeat: NO. GOOD. You may wonder how I ended up with these banana flavored confections, if not, indulge me. It was 100% bad luck. Normally we don't get trick-or-treaters in our 'hood. But each year I panic at the last minute and buy some candy just in case. Last year we got one kid who wanted money for UNICEF and not a single one wanting candy (Him: Knock, knock. Me: Hello! Happy Halloween! Reaches out with hand full of candy. Him: Holds up box. Would you like to donate to UNICEF? Me: Huh? Him: Would you like to donate to UNICEF? Me: Does UNICEF want candy? Showing hand full of candy just there for the taking. Him: No. Me: Um, then no, no thank you. Him: Okay. Walks away WITHOUT candy.). Nonetheless, I was worried that this year, this would be the year we were rushed by unruly trick-or-treaters demanding candy goodness. So, at 4:45 p.m. on Halloween evening, I went to my local grocery store to pick up some candy. And guess what, they only had one bag of Halloween candy left. If I wanted Christmas candy I was golden, but Halloween? Not so much. So I took that one bag of candy thinking it was Reese's peanut butter cups with an Elvis theme for Halloween ... not an Elvis flavor. We had two trick-or-treaters, and despite the fact that I gave them huge heaping handfuls of this banana badness, we still have a two-thirds of the bag left. I think will bring them to knitting next week to share.

Socktober Is Here

I've been diligently working on the green sweater. I pseudo-kitchenered up the shoulders and mattress stitched up the sides (taking Mr. Puffy's advice and starting in the middle). I picked up the stitches for a sleeve (twice, because I may not be so smart and not know front from back) and have been working on a sleeve. And despite all of this hard work, and a block of about six hours of knitting time between now and tomorrow, I realize that I will not be able to finish my sweater by the time I leave for Rhinebeck. I do believe this is the first time procrastination has bitten me in the ass. It could be because I had no real do-or-die incentive (e.g., failing a class, getting thrown out of court, etc.) or it could be because this sweater is just huge. Like afghan huge. Like afghan-bedspread-for-an-extra-tall-and-wide-king-sized-bed huge. Or it could be because I cheated and started on some Socktober socks ...



I know! I know! I said I wasn't starting anything until I finished the kangaroo beast, but I couldn't help myself. This cheery Lana Grossa was calling out to me from the yarn room, begging to be knit. Mind you, the Socks That Rock yarn, the yarn I waited for a gazillion hours in a million person line for, the yarn that was the Holy Grail of my Rhinebeck trip last year, it still hasn't been touched. Not at all. Well I guess technically it was touched when I put it away in the yarn room, but it hasn't been touched in a knitterly way. So once I finish the kangaroo sweater, and the Socktober socks, then I'm pulling out the STR. For real. Unless something else calls my name. Like tomorrow, at Rhinebeck.

Ghetto Seaming

As you may recall, I decided to kitchener the shoulders of my sweater closed but ran into a slight problem with undoing my cast-off. Well you will be pleased to know (or maybe you won't, but I am sure you are too kind to tell me otherwise) that I solved this little problem and now have both shoulders seamed. And neatly seamed at that. Huzzah!

And now, a photo essay on my journey into 'making it work' kitchener style. All photos can be clicked on to make bigger, not that it helps, but there ya go. In order to fudge the kitchener, I first had to pick up my stitches on the row underneath my undoable cast-off row so that I had live stitches. I got out my size zero needles and picked away.



This actually took some thought. I had to make sure I was picking up the same side of the stitch all the way across. I decided to pick up the front bit of the stitch and said to myself, "on front, skip back," as I made my way across. I also had to count, recount, and then recount again, to ensure that I had picked up the right number of stitches. Counting is hard. I no good at counting.

Once I had the stitches on the needle, I had to figure out how to orient everything so that my kitchener would work. This also took some thought.



Once I thought I had it right, I started kitchenering away. "Knit off, purl on, purl off, knit on."



I did a few and then checked to see if it looked right.



It looked right so I kept on going. And going. And then, voila! I was at the end.



For the most part this was a huge success. The cast off row gives the seam some heft, but not too much. My only issue is that I seemed to have aligned my stitches slightly differently on the second shoulder so that it aligns half a stitch off. On some other project, this would drive me nuts. On this one, I just don't care.

Call Me Merriam

Yarnbeck (noun) yärn-bek
1: Formerly known as Rhinebeck;
2: the New York State Sheep & Wool Festival

I'm quite proud of this new word I've created. Maybe it will one day catch on and end up in the Urban Dictionary between Yarn Balls (which are NOT what you think they are) and Yarn Gargler (also NOT what you think it is and totally NOT related to knitting. AT ALL!).

And, holy crap, Katy bar the door! I can add my own words to the Urban Dictionary. Woot! Woot! Please hold while I delve into the world of narcissism and memorialize my dorkedness ... So I just totally submitted Yarnbeck to the Urban Dictionary folks. I'm not sure they will take it as it is not exactly hip slang and my definition and sentence were anything but sexy, but we'll see. I'm suppose to check back here to see if it is accepted.

And to return to our regular programming ... I have made NO progress on the sweater. Despite the gaping neck/head hole, of which I have not made a decision about what to do, I did try to seam up the shoulders last night. It was, um, not pretty. Or rather, pretty fugly. The variegation in yarn thickness melded together to make a really horrible lumpy seam. S'no good. So I undid the seam and decided to heed the advice of those smarter than me and undo my cast-off and then kitchener the shoulders together. Which is great and all, but I can't seem to uncast-off the back piece that I finished sometime in 1983. Not sure what I did there, maybe I was high at the time, but it is not coming undone whatever it was. My latest brain storm involves faking the kitchenering by picking up the last row of stitches before the cast-off and using those with the front stitches and then seeing what happens. This could totally be crafting gone bad.

Not related to knitting, or my plan for the disastrous sweater, but equally cockamamie, is NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) and my voluntary participation in same. Often I subject to you my babble, having to write every single day for the month of November is going to result in me subjecting you to a hell of a lot more of my babble. Prepare to enjoy (or cringe)! Should you be interested in participating (which I really hope you are because I could use a lot more stuff to read during the day and further my procrastination), you can look here for last year's info, prizes and whatnot and click on the box in my sidebar to sign up and see this years info.

Hell & Damn

Well I remembered to bring the monstrosity sweater to work today to take photographic evidence of my progress. Which, it turns out, was both a great idea and a terrible idea. With the magic of a timer, I figured I could take a few pictures of the sweater on me. So I binder clipped the top of the sleeves/shoulders together and, voila! Except, crap!



That big gaping neck? No good! No where in the directions does it say anything about picking up stitches at the neck, or doing anything to the neck which means that this is the neck unless I work some knitting hocus-pocus. After I saw that picture (and the panic of knitting this little bitch months and months on end for naught receded), I figured that maybe I just needed to adjust the bits and make sure they were evenly spaced front and back. So I did that. And lo and behold the stupid little shit looked EXACTLY the same.



This is when I started to say fuck. A lot. I guess I am going to move forward. I mean, what have I got to lose? Don't answer that. I am going to try to remain optimistic. I haven't blocked it, I didn't have enough binder clips to hold the sides together (and asking Office Manager for a box of binder clips is a sure fire way to give up the fact that I am doing something other than work behind my closed office door), and the hood might just be the knitting hocus-pocus that pulls this baby together. Right? If all else fails, maybe I could pick up some stitches and create a smaller head hole. You know, do extra work. Because I love this sweater so much, I just can't work on it enough. Grr.

Razzle Dazzle

I finished the front of my sweater! I did! I did! But, I finished late last night and I immediately ran to bed so as to avoid inevitable end of the Yankees season and the bellowing of "This is BULL SHIT!" that would follow. In my hurry, I forgot to take a picture of the greatness that is, well, um, a large greenish rectangle. So, to distract you, I thought I would share a picture of the absolute worst color nail polish for someone with my skin tone.



The picture is a bit blurry and the color is not spot on, but I think you can see that it does not look as if I painted my toenails, but instead it looks as if they have contracted a particularly virulent strain of funk and are planning to rot right off me feet. Sexy!

Hello There Sexy

I love October. My husband, he loves September, but me, I love October more. I like the chilly October air, the turning leaves, and the chance to put up dust collectors holiday decorations. This October though, it is giving me stress.

There are only 18 days until Rhinebeck and my sweater is only two rows closer to completion! That being said, I am vowing to knit my little fingers to the bone this weekend. I have SnB tomorrow night and then some down time Friday afternoon. Then I have the three hour drive to and from New Jersey this weekend. My goal is to finish the friggen front of my friggen sweater. That then leaves me two weeks to knit two sleeves and a hood, seam up the entire thing, block it and get it ready for wearage at Rhinebeck. I think this is a reasonable goal. I also think Kennedy was killed by the magic bullet. Okay, that last part was a total lie used to illustrate my point. My point being that my goal is um, slightly unreasonable. But it's all good.

In any event, and not withstanding my sweater's status at the time of Rhinebeck which I am sure will be done and worn because I am going to knit that sweater like nobody's business, I am starting a pair of socks the first knitting minute I have after Rhinebeck. It's Socktoberfest people!

Apple Season Cometh

Last night I managed to knit ten whole rows on the sweater of slowness. For all intents and purposes, it might as well have been ten stitches. Progress, it remains unnoticeable. Anywho, all of this wild and crazy knitting kept me up to the unholy hour of 11:00 p.m., well the knitting and the new season opener of Heroes chilling on the DVR. And also Journeyman, because I am a sucker for new shows and enjoy watching the pilots. And, speaking of Heroes, how is it that none of the people who died last season are really dead? I digress though, all of my wild and crazy knitting kept me up to the unholy hour of 11:00 p.m., a full hour later than my naturally prescribed bed time, and I find my self somewhat zombie like this morning.

Which brings me to my point, in a rather round about and not so direct way: the apples. As you probably don't remember, I don't like apples. Mr. Cool forgets this and tends to bring me some every day during apple picking season. And because I like Mr. Cool, and I don't want to hurt his feelings or feel like a hair turd, I smuggle the apples out of the office and try to force my husband to eat them. Every now and then I am forced to eat one because I want Mr. Cool to see me eat the apple and know that I am grateful. And yes, I realize this is totally fuked up and that I probably need psychiatric help, but there you have it, I eat apples that I hate to make someone I like think I am grateful for something I don't like. Is there a name for this disorder?

Anyway, I strayed from my point, again. My point is, I was so damn tired this morning I somehow talked my way from one apple into four. Yes, four, cuatro, quatre, quattro, vier, четыре.



Are you kidding me? I'm not quite sure how this happened. Maybe if I hadn't given up caffeine, I would have seen it coming, tired or not. I dunno. What I do know is that I've got four different varieties and flavors and sizes of apples and Jizzy Fricken Crizzy HOW AM I GOING TO EAT (OR SMUGGLE OUT) FOUR APPLES?

Mixed Bag

I have a cold and I feel like ass. Which totally, totally sucks. I'm no good at being sick. I don't handle it gracefully. I tend to whine, "I don't feel good." A lot. I prefer not to take anything for my colds, which is fine when you only get sick once every few years but suckey when it's that time once every few years when you are sick. In any event, I feel like crap and my brain is somewhat mushy right now. But that is not going to stop me from reporting that ...

I. The yellow thing is in fact "a shawl like rich people wear to the country club" and NOT an apron. Which is totally lame. Turns out the gift giver and another guest at the shower make these ... things ... and sell them. It is good that BeFri didn't call the number on the label and say, "I received this weird ass wrap/apron/sweater thing as a shower gift and I was wondering, what the hell is it?" as she probably would have been talking to the gift giver herself!

II. Lately it seems like several people I know have gone, or are going to be going, to England. And every time I someone mentions England, I beg (rather shamelessly) for the person to keep a look out for black currant candy/pastilles. To which I get a smile and a nod and a look of, "Uh, What??" So I try to explain how Joan is evil and introduced me to the wonder of the hard chewy black currant goodness which lives everywhere but America and then I move on to how she'd get them in England when she visited and how she sent me black currant goodies from abroad, like the Black Currant Life Saver. And at Life Saver my fellow Americans say, "Oh!" Because we know the Life Saver. But then people go and travel in England and have fun and they can't find them and they think I made this candy up. But look!



Photographic evidence to show all you doubters that they do in fact exist. It just seems that they only exist in Australia. So my bad for using them as an example of the black currant delights available in Great Ole Britain. That's not to say there aren't other, better, black currant candies in London. Because there are. I just know it.

III. I worked on the Kangaroo Duo sweater at SnB the last few weeks and I even worked on it last night in between nose blows. And you know what? I am really sick of that sweater. And I am not even onto sleeve island. Hell, I even have hood island to contend with, and that totally makes me shudder. What is so annoying is that there have been hours and hours of knitting and hardly any progress to show for it.





I tried to get all creative on ya and pin it out so you could get an idea of the huge amount of boringness going on, but I had some issues. For starters, I had to use thumbtacks for pins and the floor kept rejecting the thumbtacks and sending them flying. It did add a little adventure to the photo shoot as I was forced to duck and weave. The other issue was all the movement of the colors in the sweater and all of the movement of my office carpet mixed together to make it seem like a three dimensional optical illusion picture. Either that or you might just feel motion sick. In which case, my bad, didn't meant to make you wanna hurk! Overall the photo shoot was a bust, but I figured I should share share the joy that is my work in progress.

I do have a bunch of traveling coming up ... a flight to Florida for BeFri's wedding, a drive to The Cape for Girls Weekend, a drive to New Jersey to see the MIL ... and all this traveling lends itself to knitting. So I should be able to make my Rhinebeck goal. But the thought of knitting that sweater, and all of the knitting that is left, well, it is killing me. I know if it is the only thing I have with me to knit, I'm not going to have a choice, but man am I tempted to start a sock or a scarf or a Clapotis, something small and fun, for my travels.

IV. I dreamed about knitting socks last night. Very specific socks. I even dreamed about buying the yarn, Fleece Artist yarn, a yarn I've never used but hear lots about, to make the socks. I blame this dream on my lackluster sweater interest/progress (see supra III ... and what the hell as that?? I just Blue Booked my blog. Jizzy Crizzy I need help. I think I am embarrassed by this. Well not so embarrassed that I am deleting it, but still embarrassed enough that I feel I must make amends for my dorkdum by sharing said dorkdum with the world). Anyway, I dreamed about knitting Fleece Artist socks which is kinda weird for me ... Fleece Artist socks on a nekid Bruce Willis, oh yah, knitting Fleece Artist socks, not so much.

V. The Cuisinart saga has come to an end in that Cuisinart will not do squat for me, despite my best (and repeated, at the urging of Williams-Sonoma Awesome Sales Associate II) efforts. At some point in the future, I will have to make a decision, but for now I'm doing nothing. Which means that you can not throw a party in which people need to bring food. I mean, you could, but then you wouldn't want to invite me since I would be bringing a veggie plate or something else equally boring. And not inviting me, well that would be mean. I'm sick. Don't kick the sick girl when she's down.

For anyone interested, Consumer Reports rated food processors in December 2006, and rated the Kitchen Aid ones slightly higher than the Cuisniart ones. The top three choices were Kitchen Aid models KFP750, KFP740, KFPM770 with Cuisinart's DFP-14BCN and ProCustom II DLC-8S coming in a couple of points behind. Also, Williams-Sonoma has a new policy where it guarantees any appliance type things you buy there for life. So if your Cuisinart craps out 30 years from now and Cuisinart won't repair it or help you out with a discount, Williams-Sonoma will either fix or replace your machine, or give you the money back that you paid for it. I couldn't find this policy on the Williams-Sonoma website, but it is hanging on the wall in my local store and Awesome Sales Associate II explained that this was a new policy recently enacted.

VI. Guess who is last in our football pool? Not me baby! I am in a tight race for first. It's neck and neck I tell you! (Or in plain English, I am in second place.)

September Trip, I

This past weekend I flew to Florida to surprise BeFri for her wedding shower.* The surprise was probably not that much of a surprise as she said, "I just couldn't imagine you not coming." But the surprise real, feigned, or non-existent, the shower and the trip were a lot of fun.

I arrived late on Friday night and stayed with BeFri's sister at their relative's house. And by house I mean mansion. Not McMansion, but a full on 24,000 square foot mansion. I brought the sweater with me because I had an assload of time on flights and layovers, but in the end I didn't get much sweater knitting done. I did, however, get pictures with the sweater in the mansion because, well, that is what I do.

Here is the sweater with a World Series Trophy and with a Vince Lombardi trophy!



The sweater was getting freaked out during the photo session because the help, and yes, I just used the word "help" to describe people, who the hell am I? The help, in particular, the head lady help, she kept checking in on me, the weirdo taking pictures of the valuables. Or rather, the weirdo taking pictures of the valuables with what looked like a wadded up blanket. Since the sweater was shy I put her away and took a few more pretty shots when the help was not looking (which I'm sure fueled the fear that I was in fact casing the place and not merely taking pictures of things simply because they were neat).



This is the view from the master suite, and incidentally, I now understand why there is something called a "master suite" and to all you posers out there like me that think having a walk-in closet and a bathroom attached to your bedroom renders it a "master suite" know that that is not true and we are merely deluding ourselves. In fact, the guest room that I stayed in was more of a master suite than my stuff at home. It 1) was bigger than my master bedroom; 2) had a larger, fancier bathroom than any of the bathrooms in my house including my master bath; 3) had a walk-in closet larger than my house's guestroom; and, 4) had a partial loft which was about the size of my master bedroom. But let's move on.



Here is a picture of art. Real art. Like art you would find in a museum but instead it's in some one's actual house. Real art that probably has an insurance policy more sophisticated and higher valued than my homeowners policy.



What is so neat about this particular piece (yes, first it was the help and now it is the piece, I'm a freak with the vocabulary of someone in a much higher socio-economic class than that of which I am actually in!) is that it isn't a painting but instead is a gazillion tiny pieces of Venetian glass mosaic tile thingamajigs jammed together to make a picture. I'm sure the artsy fartsy term is not "jammed in" nor is it "tiny pieces of Venetian glass mosaic tile thingamajigs" but I don't know how else to describe it. So there ya go. Oh and the art, it had it's own label and description, like in a museum, but not, because it was in the foyer. Also, like the master suite, you may think you have a foyer, but you don't, not really.

So after ogling the nice house and embarrassing the hell out of my sweater with all of my picture taking/ducking the help, I readied myself for the shower, as in the bridal shower, not my bathing shower, though I did that too, in a steam shower which was more complex than the cockpit of a jet and made me twitch when trying to figure out how to turn on only one jet/faucet because the others were shooting at me all willy nilly and freaking me out. So the shower, the bridal shower.

There was some prep work done in which my surprise appearance was suppose to be ensured. That is to say, I didn't show up with BeFri's sister, but was instead snuck through the back door of a clothing store across the street and placed in a holding pattern until BeFri couldn't see me and then led across the street having to squat as I walked because my "blockers" were all six inches shorter than me.

But I did arrive and BeFri did act suitably surprised and so the ruse made everyone feel good. Like we were slick, even if we weren't. Which BeFri won't confirm or deny for certain.



The shower was at a paint-your-own-pottery store and BeFri had picked out plates, cups and colors for use to do. I being well prepared (or crazy and anal and nervous that mine would suck without having a DETAILED plan) had practiced drawing mine and even enlisted the help of a real artist to give me a template with which to work from. I was really pleased with my plate.



That is until BeFri's sister decided to put Van Gogh's Starry Night on a cup.



Now at first glance you might think Starry Night is not terracotta orange in color but know that this Starry Night won't be terracotta orange either. The glazes were fancy schmancy and all go on in shades of terracotta but then fire into different blues and greens and yellows. Hopefully BeFri will send me a picture of the finished products so that I can show you the magic of ... fire? A kiln? Magic something.

In addition to painting pottery we also got to eat. And boy did I eat. Specifically I ate the hell out of some cake. The cake was so awesome that even the sweater came out of hiding to check it out. The muggles, however, were freaked out by the sweater, and she got all nervous and ran back into her bag.



BeFri was not forced to open her gifts in front of everyone, which is good because she is so not into that. And also, some of the gift's were, um, unique. Like this.





What the hell is this? Half a sweater? BeFri was going with a shawl "like rich people wear to the country club" but I thinking that this is a bridal shower gift and should be homey or something am going with apron. Thus far no one else is seeing the apron idea.

She also got some slightly used lingerie in that the giver decided to try it on herself to make sure it would fit BeFri. Can we get a collective EWWWWW? One more time, EWWWWW, because what the fuk is that all about trying a thong on yourself to make sure it would fit your friend? Honestly, I could not make that up. The giver was so excited about the gift that she made BeFri open it after the shower officially ended, but before she got home. Dirty Giver proceeded to tell BeFri, as she was opening it, that she had tried it on and so knew it would fit (despite being eight inches taller and about seventy pounds heavier than BeFri). Yuck.

After we deloused BeFri, she and I went back to her house and she and her fiancé opened the gifts. Including the aforementioned APRON. Later she and I went out to eat and had some of the best spinach and artichoke dip ever at Houston's. Damn that stuff is good.

The next morning we woke up early and went to breakfast at a local jewish deli which was also delish and then I caught my plane home. Well one of my planes, because hello layover I hate you. I did manage to knit on my second flight. The flight that was so ridiculously short that there wasn't even beverage service. So I didn't actually get much done. But the little bit I did finish included ATTACHING THE POCKET. Woot Woot!

I now have about seven thousand inches of straight stockinet to go before some neck shaping. Oh the joy!


*FYI, in case you are ever enacting a surprise similar to this surprise, I suggest you have a back up plan, just in case. Ya see, had I truly surprised BeFri and had she had plans for Saturday night or Sunday, I would have been screwed, and also stranded with no place to stay and no way to get to the airport to get home, having been sold on the following by BeFri's sister ... "So, we won't tell BeFri you are coming. I'll pick you up at the airport Friday night, we'll stay a X's, and then Saturday we'll go to the shower. You can then go home with BeFri and spend Saturday night and Sunday with her and then she can take you to the airport." Which is a great plan unless, like I said before, BeFri had had plans. I realized the potential disaster at the last minute (and by "I" I mean my husband who said, "What are you going to do if BeFri has plans?" and to which I said, "Shit!") and made a back up plan with Opa which turned out unnecessary. But my point, as long winded as it is, is have a back up plan should you travel fourteen hundred miles to surprise someone.

Nuthin' Doin'

I've been busy cranking away on my Kangaroo Duo, which sounds like I should have a bunch of progress to show you. But eh, not so much. I'm still not even ready to join my pocket to my front. But I have a goal. My goal is to finish this sweater in time to wear to Rhinebeck. It will be my very first Rhinebeck Sweater. In years past it seemed the internet was full of people knitting 'Rhinebeck Sweaters.' I've started to hear some rumblings again, and have even seen a really cute sweater ready for this year, so I figured, why not join the masses. Maybe if I have a goal, I can crank out this sweater (knit stupidly on US4, 3.5mm, teeny tiny needles) sometime before I die. So I shall toil away on it until I finish, and not go yarn shopping for Clapotis, which makes me very sad.

To help me reach my goal, I've been knitting while I watch the boob tube. The husband and I were searching for a new show since nothing good has been on and since yet another show we liked was not picked up. Some internet surfing led me to Dexter and the husband approved, which was great since I didn't have a back up plan. So $13 later, we were Showtime subscribers on our way to Miami with a serial killer. I was a little leery at first because I'd look at Dexter and see David but kudos to Michael C. Hall for putting that to an end real quick. Let me tell you, Dexter is a great show and I totally recommend it. Through the miracle of OnDemand in about two weeks we were able to enjoy season one. Immensely. But the last few episodes, man, they had me hiding behind a pillow and cringing and squirming and doing many things other than knitting. That show built some tension. Some major I'm-scared-and-don't-want-to-look-but-I-have-to-but-no-oh-god-what's-happening-I-can't-stand-this type tension. So in summary, Dexter = good for watching, bad for knitting.

And, not related to anything else mentioned above, Rebecca nominated me for Rockin' Girl Blogger which is both very nice and somewhat confusing since I see myself as more dork than rockin'. I mean I talk like a fucking rock star, fuckin-a I do, but otherwise ... I dunno. I'm flattered, thanks Rebecca!



As for my nominees, here are a few ladies whose blogs I enjoy, none of whom I've met in person, and none of whom have offered me any money for said nominations ... Barb P, Nicole, and Susan. Not that I'm not totally open to bribery - if you'd like to pay me for a nomination, we can talk!