Friday, July 27, 2007

Sometimes Reality Just Sucks

And when it does, you should just go here and wait until the regularly scheduled programming in your area to catch it on the boob tube.

Mister Mitzvah is not my favorite thus far . . .

Which is why I was rather surprised Braid bought it early in the game. So much for the CIA experience.

I started yet another cotton dishcloth during this deplorable bid for escapism.

Thursday, July 26, 2007


Personally, I hate "window treatments." Store-bought curtain rods annoy me. The process of measuring and hammering/affixing the accompanying hardware just causes apoplexy. And that's why I don't have many curtains in my multi-windowed house. However, there are a few instances where they're a necessary evil ~ bathrooms and bedrooms, specifically. No one should endure jiggly bits peering in from outside my window and I really prefer a little privacy in these household sanctuaries. After much deliberation and resistance, I finally worked out a plan for the downstairs bath using curtains bought from Sears by my grandmother ages ago. (I found the set unopened in a trunk ~ heaven knows what she was saving them for; I'm unaware of any "rainy days" involving the use of curtains. Unless you're Scarlett O'Hara, of course.) Since much of the bamboo's upper foliage bought the farm, I trimmed it back yielding a fine supply of straight, fairly smooth lumber for curtain rods. The upstairs bath has sets of curtains my grandmother crocheted for me and sticks from the woods around my house. Dirk was certain I was out of my tree meandering about with a measuring tape and pruners, but when he saw the results, he had to agree it was time well spent. Curtains: just another opportunity to be unique.

And just so it doesn't look like that's ALL I've been doing, here's a fine bevy of dishcloths.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

dishcloths and books

Summer vacation knitting: cotton dishcloths. Cool fiber, no-brainer knitting. All to be found here for the taking. And then there's just toying with new stitches/patterns in cotton ~ swatches become something useful then.

Other summer vacation activities: unearthing every blessed book I own from boxes in the basement and finding homes for them topside.

I'm feeling mildly accomplished.

The bamboo is doing well.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

The Invasion Begins!

For those who doubted me: Hah! and Hah, hah! I was told, You need to water them more. They'll need to be watered everyday! I thumbed my nose at mollycoddling this bamboo. Channelling Chuck Darwin, I figured if it's going to survive it'll have to make its own way in the forest. And it is looking rather fit at that. I wasn't concerened about the sun and wind-damaged foliage up top (the plants were hauled down 684 and 84 in the back of Grace's truck). My focus was on the then-unformed shoots underneath ~ that's what needed to take in order to survive. I was happy to see one plant make a showing, but I'm absolutely gleeful that all four batches are showing good signs of life. So begins my bid for World Domination Through Invasive Bamboo. Maybe in about 10 years, I could sell bamboo knittining needles . . .

And here is the finished self-designed sweater with the Kentucky yarn (no matter that it was orginally purchased New York and then moved south) and some Malabrigo. It's not the screaming orange I'd originally imagined, but as I was swatching up this coral/blue/white yarn in Linen Stitch, it reminded me of the sea and how the whole sweater sort of reminds of the sea. The reverse side of the Linen Stitch was bumpy reminding me further of shells and other sea creatures. I sewed this panel in the cleft of the sweater and Voila! C'est finis!

Thursday, July 05, 2007

The Table Is Set . . .

Yesterday was a total Harry Potter movie/knitting immersion day. After all the travelling and visiting the past two weeks, I decided a do-nothing day was in order ~ with the appropriate tea. Clearly, doing nothing paid off. I completed my first ever yoke somewhat successfully. (No thanks to Math. Mathmatics and I have strained relations at best. I view it as a necessary evil that rarely cooperates. Its regard for me is much like an exclusive country club member cursing the deplorable help; speaking in clench-jawed tones of Thurston Howell the Third.) From that yoke, I knitted myself a respectable short-row collar (more math).

At first, I thought I'd put buttons here with some crochet loopy things. Then I decided to put some kind of complimentary-colored insert. Some sharply triangular shape with a flat pattern like the Linen Stitch. (Hence, the table set with tea and past Interweave Knits ~ I had to find the Furlana Hat and Mitts by Rebecca Harris for the pattern again.) Pattern relocated; now I needed the right wool . . .

You know how one could swear to the appropriate diety of choice that there is orange yarn in the Stash, but can't find it? One remembers spinning it, handling it, putting it in the Stash for a special occasion, such as this, and its imexplicably absent. There must be some quantum physic anamoly, a sort of yarn stash black hole, requiring, once again, Mathmatics to discern a locale few are aware of. Since I couldn't find the orange yarn I was certain I had, I'll have to spin up this other mohair stuff.

I did find, like the tribbles in Star Trek, a whole lot of mohair/metallica/other fiber blends literally spilling from bags like the aforementioned Trekkie critters. Now what the hell do I do with all that?

On a lighter note, Goldie is doing quite well. Holding his own, he pecks and scratches with the rest of them.