Progress

My Christmas knitting has rapidly fallen into two discrete categories:

1. Projects that are going to look great but take time (perhaps more than I've scheduled, but I'm not going there yet).
2. Projects that are fast and easy knits, enabling me to feel as though I'm actually making progress.

Projects in Category One: Merike's Gloves and the socks planned for my children and parents

Projects in Category Two: the plain gloves for my husband and the felted clogs.

The clogs have rapidly become the go-to project for days when I find it difficult to work on anything that requires real concentration. Days like yesterday, for example, when both of my boys got into trouble at school. There's nothing like going to pick up your preschooler only to find that he had spent the last 30 minutes of the day in the Director's office because he had indulged in some Very Bad Listening on the playground. Three hours later the Eldest came home from school in a state of high dudgeon, upset and unable to understand why his teacher was taking exception to his habit of spending roughly half of every independent work period goofing off with his friends. After all, he was still getting his work done on time! We had a very good talk and got it all sorted out, but see-sawing from "Throwing sand is very naughty" to "Can you see how your teacher might view that as a problem?" left me unable to even think about picking up Merike's itty bitty needles, never mind trying to read a chart.

Knitting is the way I unwind, though, so I got out the clogs and started working. And look what I accomplished by bedtime! I swear, I'm almost to the point where I can knit these babies on automatic pilot.


Almost.

Thank God It's Monday

We had one day of quiet and cozy. One day in which it was just the five of us, with fresh snow on the ground, nowhere to go, and a turkey dinner. The rest of the holiday weekend careened crazily from Eventful to Quite Dull, Really ... with the children singing several choruses of "Why CAN'T We Play RuneScape for 12 Hours Straight?" throughout.

How eventful was Eventful? I've tried writing this out three times now, and it's just too gross for words. You really don't want all the gory details. Suffice it to say that there was stomach and intestinal trouble, both human and canine, and that sometimes it really, really bites to be the mommy, because when these things happen everyone turns to you for clean up and comfort. Being needed can be very satisfying, but after the third or fourth time you find yourself cleaning dog barf off the family room carpet while the children lend support ("Eeeewwww, someone gave him a carrot!" "Mom, you missed a piece over here!") that warm glow feels less like job satisfaction and more like road rage.

Nursing duties aside (everyone seems fine now, by the way ... the dog is pouting because he's being fasted for 24 hours, but otherwise spirits are high), things went pretty well. The Young'un basked in the attention of his older siblings, the older two were able to strike a good balance between being at home with the family and playing with friends, my husband took Thursday AND Saturday off, and I made a fair bit of progress on my Christmas knitting.

The bee slippers are finished, as I've said (the jury is still deliberating Buttons v. Applique), and a new pair begun. The voices in my head continue to carry on about the need to sew flowers to the tops, and I really wish they'd simmer down.


I have started a pair of "Merike's Gloves" for my mother in law. In a burst of irrational optimism I had planned to finish these in time for her birthday next week, but have been saved from myself by the drawing of names for the family gift exchange. I was relived to learn that my husband drew his mother's name, buying me a couple of weeks. (This is Koigu on size 0s, folks. The two inches of cuff pictured here took over five hours to knit.)


Last but very far from least, I completed a pair of mittens for Dulaan. They were just the break I needed after a few hours spent clenching my mind in concentration on Merike's Gloves.



Today, we are back to normal. Normal is good.

Quiet Thanksgiving = Lots and Lots of Knitting

The bee shoes are done.


I was going to embroider "buzz" down the front before I felted them -- even went so far as to print out knitter's graph paper and chart the lettering -- because as I thought about it, I decided that this detail would add the extra something that took the slippers from "cute" to "incredible". What my imagination failed to take into account, however, was that my embroidery skills are really, really, really lame. I mean, I stitched the first "b" and could see immediately that in this case, less would definately be more. So they're done. Although my mind's eye (which does have a way of getting me into a lot of trouble) is insisting that my niece's slippers would not be complete without felted flowers sewn on the top. With whip stitch. Which I've never done.

Life would be so dull if I were capable of learning from experience.

In other knitting news, on Tuesday I stopped obsessing over the yellow slippers long enough to remember that my sister-in-law's birthday is this coming Wednesday, and my mother-in-law's birthday is six days after that. Far be it from me to make things simple for myself and buy a card ... I reached into my stash Wednesday afternoon, pulled out two skeins of Noro Kureyon (color #165), and produced:


They are for my sister-in-law (and are the same size, even if they look a bit wonky in the photo). I am also planning gloves for my mother-in-law (the Hogwarts School gloves seem to have awakened a monster in me ... I am loving making gloves), but on a much more ambitious scale. I'm planning to make her "Merike's Gloves" from Nancy Bush's Folk Knitting in Estonia.

Why, yes, I am out of my mind. Thanks for noticing.

Finally, I finished my first mitten for Dulaan yesterday morning. I am planning to complete the pair (and a matching hat) by the end of the weekend, as part of Carole and Margene's Knit Unto Others knit-along.


This may turn out to be one of my favorite Thanksgivings ever. Not only are we getting in some good Quality Time as a family, but with the older kids home to entertain the Young'un, I'm free to spend most of the day knitting.

We are going to have to do this more often.

Happy Thanksgiving

For most of our marriage my husband and I (and the kids, when they appeared on the scene) spent alternate Thanksgivings with his family in Chicago and mine in Iowa.

Then, in 2003, we moved to New England.  The first year we lived here we flew to Iowa for Thanksgiving.  Last year we stayed home, but shared the holiday with friends whose families also live far away.

By this schedule, we should have been on a plane to Des Moines this afternoon.  A year of unexpectedly large household repair bills, however, combined with too-fresh memories of last year’s Christmas Journey From Hell (I’ll tell you about that another time), have overruled Tradition, and we will be spending the Thanksgiving holiday at here at home.  

My brother and his wife had originally planned to come to Massachusetts this year, but changed their minds earlier this month.  I’ll admit that when I first realized that no family or friends would be joining us tomorrow I was disappointed.   The happy chaos of a family reunion has always been an important part of this holiday for me.

Instead, this year’s Thanksgiving will be a quiet affair … no fancy side dishes, no elaborate desserts.  Our kids are pretty picky eaters, so the menu has been pared down to the basics … turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and some non-threatening vegetables, with ice cream to follow.   We’ll cook together, watch a movie or two, and may play a few of games of  “Clue” in front of the fireplace, if we can keep the Young’un from absconding with the game pieces (he’s especially fond of  the pipe and the rope).  It should be a very cozy day.

And for that – and them – I am truly, deeply thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Let The Christmas Knitting Begin

So, a big thumbs-up for Fiber Trend's Felted Clog pattern ... I started knitting my nephew's clogs last night, and finished the first one in less than three hours.


Now I am a mass of indecision.

1. Will it be too slipper-y (not "slippery" -- I'm going to treat the sole to prevent that -- but too easy to get off) for a toddler?
2. Are these colors too much? Does it look cute, or like I had the yarn in my stash and am too cheap to buy a more suitable replacement? (This last happens to be true, but my SIL doesn't need to know that.)

I was thinking of duplicate-stitching the word "Buzz" down the top of each foot -- would that help? Maybe buttons? Or an applique? Remember that the slippers are to be felted ... maybe that will soften the look a bit?

I hate second-guessing myself.

In happier news, while I was staring down the Endless Stockinette Tunnel and experiencing severe Christmas Gift Angst*, a treat arrived for me. About a week ago I was visiting Ann's blog, and was the first person to guess the literary allusion in this post. My prize for (Finally) Getting Some Use out of my English Degree was this absolutely smooshable Shepherd Sport "Bittersweet". Look at these incredible colors!!

Thank you so much, Ann. I cannot wait to knit this up.

*I made a list for the Handknitted Gift KAL ... and oh, Lord. 12 items to finish between now and Christmas?!? Seven of which need to be shipped Elsewhere? Ambition, I have. The sense God gave a platypus ... not so much.

Pattern for House Mittens (updated)

Several people have asked me what pattern I used for the House Mittens. They are my own design, born out of desperation after I had knit the 36,487th stitch (give or take) on the Eldest's scarf. Her Ladyship had made it clear she expected a scarf of her own, and I thought there had to be an easier way to give the kids something that would enable them to show their House Pride.

And "House Mittens" were born.

I have written the pattern out, and have added a link to my sidebar.* Have fun making the mittens, and please let me know if you run into any problems with the pattern.

*The usual caveats apply: the pattern is not intended for commercial use; I have given it here for personal use only.

All Over But the Fringing (updated)

It's been All Potter, All the Time around here ... but I did it. Today is the day that Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire opens in the United States, and I have completed all my four of my HP knitting projects.

1. Gryffindor scarf .... check.

(Songbird noted that what we have in this picture is a "Gryffindog". Hee.)

2. Ravenclaw scarf ..... check


First he was a Gryffindog, now he's a Ravenpaw ... but considering how good natured and patient he's been with all the posing and the babysitting and the being paid in carrot sticks ... I think he really belongs in Wooflepuff.

3. House Mittens ....... check.


I am planning to make several more pairs of these ... they were fast, easy, and I really like the way they look. These Slytherin mittens had their first public outing last week, when the Eldest wore them while he was doing some volunteer work at a local shelter. Slytherin mittens/volunteer work. I love that.

4. School Gloves ....... check.

This was probably my favorite Harry Potter project of all, for three reasons.

1. They are the first pair of gloves I've ever attempted, and were a lot of fun to make.
2. They were a gift for a friend, who made appropriately happy noises when she received them.
3. Because they were a gift I got to package them. This meant creating a label that made them look as though they'd been bought in the school store (click on the pictures to see them more clearly):

"Just what you need," said my husband dryly, "Another aspect of this hobby that requires you to spend hours fussing about on the computer." He is a funny, funny man.

I watched the Harry Potter special on A&E last night, and cannot wait to see the movie, which I will do in the company of my favorite Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students. I think we'll aim for a Saturday matinee.

Hooray!

Patience Personified

He is the best babysitter.

Hang in there, bubba ... just two more repeats ....

Can't Talk. Knitting.

11 repeats down, 4 to go.

All's Well That Ends Well

Do you remember these socks?


The Glenwood socks were a procrastiknitting project, cast on to avoid facing the Horrid Splotchy Socks (whatever happened to them?), and were a treat to make. I enjoyed them so much that I whipped them out in no time ... only to discover that one was 1/2" shorter than the other.

This was not great news ... because I used a tubular cast-on, fixing the socks would require a tubular cast-OFF, which I did not know how to do. I resigned myself to frogging the bottom of the shorter sock, knitting the extra 1/2" on the leg and re-knitting the foot, but figured that I had time. I planned to give them as a gift, but the birthday in question wasn't until November. I finished them in September.

"Plenty of time," I told myself, as I put the socks back into the stash closet and pulled out new projects. "No problem." And I did have an out ... the socks were a surprise gift. That meant that if I didn't finish them the recipient wouldn't know to be disappointed.

Yeah. This was trouble.

My trip to Chicago changed everything. The friend I stayed with happened to be the person for whom the socks were being knit. And remember the whole "Lorna's-Laces-have-Chicago-place-names-and-isn't-it-cool-to-give-things-to-people-made-with-yarn-that-means-something-to-them" thing? It totally applies -- when we were at Loopy Yarns Tanya picked up a skein of Shepherd Sock and exclaimed, "Oh, look! Glenwood!". So you can see how I had to get them done.

I planned to repair the socks as soon as I got home -- after finishing my niece's jacket, which had a more pressing deadline, and on which I decided to try a tubular cast-off. Which worked beautifully. (Note to self: if you're afraid of trying a new technique because you worry that making a mistake will result in having to re-do a lot of work done on size 1 needles ... experiment with a less slippery yarn in a larger gauge first.)

In the end, I only had to rip back the cuff of the sock, knit the extra five or six rows and a new cuff, and use my handy-dandy new cast-off technique. Easy peasy.

And my friend not only loves the socks, she gets as big a kick out of the color name as I do.


I love a happy ending.

He's Incredible

I brought all the kids presents from Chicago ... but the Incredible pajamas I brought the Young'un have been the biggest hit by far. He's worn them constantly, and spends every day running all over the house, singing the Incredibles theme song and striking his "Saving the Day" pose, like so:

One day last week I could no longer bear the cuteness, so I called him over, scooped him up and started kissing his cheeks.

"You are delicious!" I told him.

He looked startled and tried to wiggle away.

"I just have to give you one more kiss," I said, holding him tighter. "You are so sweet!"

He sighed with exasperation and looked at me sternly. "Mom," he said, shaking his finger in my face, "I am not FRUIT."

and off he ran.

Six Days and Counting

The opening of Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire is a week away, and I'm feeling cautiously optimistic about getting my knitting done on time.

I have already finished the (Slytherin) House Mittens and the Eldest's Gryffindor House Scarf. To complement the Mittens, I am making a pair of House Gloves. I only have one finished, but it was such a quick knit that I expect to have the pair done by mid-week.

"But wait!" you say, as you lean forward in your desk chair and peer at your computer monitor through narrowed eyes. "You can't call these House Gloves. Each house has its own colors, and the trapped bar patterns on the glove's fingers are all different!"

You are right, of course. They would be more accurately called School Gloves, and were inspired by a friend of mine who took The Sorting Hat Test, only to find that her personality is so complex and mysterious that the Hat didn't know what to do with her. That, and I wanted to try making a pair of gloves. So. There we are.

It can be such fun when ideas collide like that.

In addition to the gloves, I've finished eight bars on Her Ladyship's Ravenclaw scarf, which means I can see a faint light glowing at the end of the Endless Stockinette Tunnel.

(Can I just say how much I'm liking the Brown Sheep Nature Spun? I used the worsted weight version for the mittens and gloves, the sport weight for the scarves, and it's just really, really nice to work with. I am almost ready to crown this my new Workhorse Wool. I just need to see how it wears first.)

I truly believe it can all be done on time, but I am not ruling out the possibility that come next weekend I will find myself frantically hooking fringe to the bottom of Her Ladyship's scarf in the car on the way to the movie.

What I wouldn't give for a pair of Molly Weasley's knitting needles right about now.

Found

Thank you all for your suggestions and support yesterday while I was not-so-quietly losing my freaking mind. I have an unfortunate habit of dropping my keys on the closest available surface as I multi-task my way into the house, but I'm usually able to find them in one of three or four places in my kitchen (or the door -- I was so certain that was where I'd overlooked it that I checked the lock three times yesterday).

In the end, it was a combination of retracing my steps and younger eyes that did the trick. Just before dark I sent the Eldest out to look in and around the car one more time. I told him to push the leaves aside, check inside the trunk ... and then, as an afterthought, said, "Oh, and after I let the Young'un into the house I went back to the van for the groceries and to get the mail from the mailbox. Could you check the ground between the house and the driveway?"

And that's where he found them. Lying in full view, smack dab in the middle of the front lawn, where I had placed the groceries during my detour to the mailbox.

Whew. Whew, whew, whew. Hooray for 11 year olds!

Other happy news: the zipper for my niece's jacket arrived while I was in Chicago, the installation went smoothly (thank you, Bonne Marie Burns), and it's going into the mail today.

And here's a detail shot of the zipper pull, because I love it so ...

Project stats:
yarn: Reynolds Lopi (from stash)
pattern: Knitting Pure & Simple Children's Bulky Neckdown Jacket
zipper: Zipperstop (my heros!)
zipper pull: my LYS

I'm very pleased with the finished product ... and even more pleased that all gift knitting is now concluded for 2005*. I have a few ideas percolating, and I want to play.

* I know, I know ... there are seven repeats to go on the Ravenclaw scarf, and Christmas is looming ... but for today I shall pretend.

Oh, No.

A teacher friend of mine sent me the following:

This paragraph apparently refers to what I was doing when I came into the house yesterday, because I have looked everywhere and I cannot find my house keys, oh my God.

I have cleared my kitchen counters. I have cleaned out the refrigerator. I have emptied ALL of my purses (not just the one I had yesterday) and searched everyone's coat pockets. I have looked in the pantry. I have been through all of the bedrooms and bathrooms, I have interrogated the Young'un, who responded with an evil little giggle and ran away (please, God, let him not be involved, because if he is the keys are as good as gone). I am faced with having to empty, sort through, and re-organize all the closets, drawers, and toy receptacles in my house if I ever want to leave the premises again ... and that thought makes me want to drink gin straight from the fishbowl.

I just want to curl up with the Ravenclaw scarf and knit until the keys stroll into to the room. I know this won't work, but darn it, it SHOULD.

This.Is.So.Frustrating.

"But What Did You Buy?"

I know that yesterday's post was not quite complete. I showed you pictures of my friends, I flaunted the flan, I teased you with shots of pretty, pretty yarn in display cases and knit up in swatches .... but I didn't say if I brought any of it home.

Well, I didn't. Not a single, solitary skein.

What? I didn't. Nope, not me. I have tons of sock yarn. I don't need more. It was pretty, and soft, and enticing, but I resisted. Honest.

Don't look in that basket!

Fine. I didn't think you'd believe me, anyway. And it wasn't entirely a lie. I didn't buy a single skein.

I bought 13.

from left to right: Lanett Rainbow Mix, Plymouth Encore, Lorna's Laces Camouflage, Uptown and Irving Park (x2 each), and Baby Ull

Wait, you say (suspicious, eagle-eyed fiber addict that you are). Why is there only a single skein of something sock-like over there on the right? Already wound? What's up with that?

Have I mentioned that I am impatient?

Lorna's Laces Ravenswood

Tomorrow I'll show you what I brought the kids.

The Three Fs

To be considered successful, a weekend away must include the Three Fs:

1. Food

Flan for dessert at Frontera Grill:

Raspberry lemonade and water after shopping at Nordstrom:

Sunday brunch at tweet ... let's eat -- first course (you should have seen the omelettes):

2. Fiber

Vicki Sayre, owner of Loopy Yarns, and her Amazing Display of Lorna's Laces. We walked through her doors at 11A and made ourselves at home for over two hours. She never even blinked -- in fact, she sat down at the table and joined us. I wish I lived close enough to visit Vicki more often.

Decision time for Jen at Arcadia Knitting. Jen's husband is very glad she and I don't go yarn shopping together more often.

3. Friends

Jen teaching Mary to cast on. Even those who think they don't want to knit find it impossible to resist once they've been encouraged to fondle the Berroco Chincilla.

My best friends (minus Tanya, who had to slip out to attend her daughter's choir concert, Anna, and Catherine, who couldn't make lunch but joined us at the theatre Saturday night) at Frontera Grill. I miss these ladies very, very much. (from left: Mary, Jen, Denise, Suzyn, Yours Truly, and Deb)

This was a very successful weekend.

Mistaken Identity

I asked Her Ladyship if, when choosing her costume, she was thinking of Remus Lupin, and she answered by rolling her eyes (they are SO going to get stuck like that someday) and saying, in a too-patient tone, "No, Mom. I'm just a werewolf."

Oops. Sorry. Of course.

She'll always be Remus to me.

Must run now, as I'm leaving for Chicago this afternoon, and have yet to decide what knitting to pack.

See you Monday!

The Sound of Fates Laughing

In my last post I announced my plan to finish a toddler jacket in five days and an 8 foot long scarf in two weeks. I then got sort of paranoid and accused you all of laughing at me. I may have even shouted a little.

I should have known better. You people would never make fun of a schedule that would only work if the secondary purpose of a pair of knitting needles was to create wrinkles in the time-space continuum.

Yesterday's comments were nothing but encouraging and empathetic (Erica, I think your kids will thrive on chicken nuggets every night. All the grilled cheese sandwiches we've been eating around here doesn't seem to have stunted my kids' growth in the slightest.). With your reassuring words ringing in my ears, I finished the jacket in just under two hours yesterday morning. This project was going to be done ahead of schedule. Piece of cake. All I needed was a zipper. Specifically: a 14", dark purple, separating zipper. I could not have been more pleased with myself.

I finished sewing down the pockets, and the Young'un and I trooped off to the fabric store. The sun was shining, our hearts were light -- we merrily sang along with our favorite CD as we drove.

We entered the store and trit-trotted over to the zipper rack. I really hoped that the purple zippers weren't too lavendar-y for the sweater. I would use a fuschia one if I had to, but the ideal color would be a rich, deep, eggplant.

It took me less than five minutes to realize that finding the right shade of purple was the least of my problems. Apparently there isn't a lot of call for 14", deep purple, separating zippers -- at least not in my neck of the woods. Judging by the stock on display, around here we like our zippers black, white or taupe. There was one 24" red zipper, but its dusty, dinged packaging told me that it had been languishing there at the back of the shelf for quite a while.

Dagnabit.

There was only one voice raised in song on the way home. I was too busy muttering under my breath about the dearth of color sense in the suburbs to warble about the difficulties of rollerskating in a buffalo herd -- and Ralph? What if I don't want to put my mind to being happy? Huh? I've got no stinkin' zipper!!

I'm feeling much better today. Google found me a zipper, and it should be here when I get back from Chicago. My niece's birthday is a week away ... the gift can still be there on time. And I'm really happy with the way it's turning out:


Next time, I'll get everything I need pulled together before I start to knit. All I have to do is plan things a bit further in advance.

Do I hear someone laughing?

What's So Funny?

What did I knit when I could have been struggling to construct a werewolf out of fake fur? Why, Her Ladyship's Ravenclaw scarf, of course.


The movie opens in 16 days. (What was that? "Sneak previews"? Never heard of them.) As of last night, I have finished four repeats. With 11 to go, I figure that if I force myself to knit at least one repeat every night during re-runs of The Amazing Race, I should finish this thing with time to spare.

I hear that giggling. Stop it. This is totally going to work.

In addition, I am dedicating all daytime knitting between now and Thursday to finishing my niece's birthday gift. I am leaving Friday for a weekend in Chicago (by myself! to visit my girlfriends! we're going to go to a Mexican restaurant! and a play! and yarn shops!), and would love to have it ready to take with me, so that I can hand it off to the in-laws for delivery on The Day and save shipping.


I CAN HEAR YOU LAUGHING AGAIN.

Now look. I can do this. I started the jacket last Thursday, and see, I'm almost done! (It's a size 2-4, but let us not quibble over details.) The only thing standing between me and success is a cuff, a sleeve, and a zipper (which will be sewn in by hand, because if I somehow screwed it up and was suddenly faced with a nightmare repair situation ..... well, it would blow my deadline*, and that would be sad). All of this is absolutely within the realm of the possible.

So to recap: I have embarked on a frenzy of knitting in which I plan to finish a jacket three days from now and an eight-foot scarf in just over two weeks.

I'm sorry. Can I get you a glass of water?

* I know said deadline is self-imposed, and I know it didn't need to be like this. I can see the pattern. All available evidence indicates that I lack the (will)power to change it.