Just a Quickie

This will be a short, pictureless post. Not because I didn't make any additional progress, but because the photos would. be. boring. With a capital B.

Mitered Blanket:
The baby blanket miters are complete. Finished up the last one yesterday with a flourish and the blanket was deemed a success by many parties in my house (the ones that have taken an interest, anyway -- Zee hasn't had an eye for this one). Now I only have to do the edging. Today at lunch I head out to the Big Box that Shall Not Be Named to look for some dark green and a size F crochet hook to finish this one up. Then there will be pictures.

Basil:
Yes, Basil has not gone away. After the miters were done yesterday, I picked this up and slogged along a big on that incredibly tedious border. Only about two and a half rows to go before cast-off. Having been rather successful knitting without peeking on the miters, I've realized that I don't have to watch every single knit stitch go by and that multi-tasking (i.e. watching a movie with Hubby) is possible with only a small risk of a dropped stitch. So that's chugging along -- one more movie and I'll be ready to cast this off (finally) and call it a day.

Spinning:
I've dubbed this wool "Hydrox." The Hydrox cookie was the enduring predecessor to the Oreo, and the name resonated well with Knitting Auntie of Aran Fame when she popped in for a quick visit on Saturday. The first bobbin is now filled and the second is coming along. It looks exactly the same as the first bobbin, hence no pictures. Once I get the third filled and my first three-ply completed, I'll be happy to put it on display.

Assorted Little Projects:
I've been toting a little baby bib around with me that I managed to whip out a few rows on, but no real progress to be seen. I also played a bit with some burp-cloth appropriate stitch patterns but can't seem to find one I really like. Any ideas?

Progess

This morning was a fibery one at Chez Spinneas.

Finished another miter and started another. Only one more full square to go and then on to the edging for the baby blanket:

And I have nearly filled the first bobbin of the Romeldale:

I've been thinking about this ... after all, this is what I'm spinning for Flair. I'll need about 800 yards or so of worsted-size yarn. I did a wraps-per-inch calculation on the spindle-spun this morning, and it's still a little thin. A three-ply ought to bring me up to worsted with this homespun. So, my plan is to fill three bobbins and ply them and see how much I can get yardage-wise. Then I'll have a solid idea of how much spinning I'll need to do.

Since I have such an obscene amount of this wool (The Yarn Sniffer saw it this morning and said, "Whoa, that's a huge stack of wool, mom") I don't think I'll have a problem meeting the quota. In fact, I may have enough to do some matching socks or perhaps a little hat to go with it. How cute would that be?

What a Whorl, What a Whorl ...

Today, I took one of those bloggy quizzes ... the Sesame Street Personality quiz. I am Bert, and that frightens me. If anyone cares to find out who they are, you can access the quiz here.

In any event, enough about muppets and on to more appropriate content. This will be a short post, because pictures are worth more than words.

I've been spinning:



This is peacock merino/tencel from Kendig Cottage, and it has taken me forever. This is four ounces, Navajo plied. I don't know when I'm going to tackle the other four, because another Romneydale fleece has touched my heart. Anyone remember Oreo from last year? Well, his/her cousin (I like to think) has resurfaced, and at February's spinner's group I purchased an obscene amount. I have enough of this lovely fleece to last me for some time. I have some on the bobbin already.

But I also decided to spindle some of it. Firstly, to get an idea of what thickness to go for (this is the wool I'm going to use for Flair) and partially to get back into the spin of it so I can teach a co-worker who is chomping at learning to spin.


I didn't do much, but this is an Andean plied two-ply bit of goodness. That's a dime for scale.

More progress from the weekend in a few days!

On Coming Home

I was in Tampa from Wednesday through Sunday at a medical communicators conference. It was a fabulous trip (despite pregnancy fatigue and swollen feet), but it's always great to come home. However, coming home was not the most pleasant experience.

As everyone no doubt knows, the East Coast was hit with a Nor'easter this past weekend whose winds are still lingering. Florida was not exempt from the bad weather the storm brought along. To wit, here's a picture I took of the fountain in front of the hotel (one of the ones that the miter enjoyed on Friday afternoon) as my co-worker and I were waiting for our cab to go to the airport at 9 a.m. on Sunday:

No, it isn't "just a bad picture." That's rain, guys -- heavy, torrential rain, combined with wind and nastiness that had me worried that I wasn't going to make it out on time, if at all. This is the stuff the Weather Channel folks live for.

Fortunately, we got out -- but not until after we had spent a few extra hours at the airport with weather delays. The good news was that I had plenty of knitting to keep me occupied (my resolve gave out on Saturday afternoon and I took a cab to the store for more). I finished three miters while I was there, and started the sixth once I got home after two hours of bumping our way up the East Coast.

I figure the blankie only needs to be 3x3, so I'm nearly two-thirds done. I'm very happy with the way this is turning out. Not only is it one of the easiest and fastest things I've ever knit, but it's also soft and squishy and fun. I love the way the greens are working together and I adore the mix of varigated and solid. I really do see this as a "play on the floor" blanket or a snuggle-during-the-day under supervision blankie (after all this is cotton, which is not flame retardant). Not to mention that this has been a wonderful foray into the world of Peaches n' Creme cotton, which I've always avoided because of fiber snobbery. Thanks, Farmer Auntie, for showing me the error of my ways. I can say, though, that this is the ONLY yarn I'll buy at Wal-Mart.

So anyway, coming home is always a bit tricky -- re-entry with kids is never easy -- but for the most part it went smoothly (only the pregnancy fatigue made it difficult). Laundry was done, dishes were done, kids were happy. The Nor'Easter was hitting on Sunday, it was raining cats and dogs, our basement was flooded. But Sunday turned out great.

Yesterday, however, we were hit with the wind and it was touch and go for a while with the electricity (disclaimer: I live in a house that's fully electric -- electric furnace burner, electric water pump for the well, electric appliances). When the lights go out, we're screwed. And it was cold here yesterday. But, thanks to the folks at BGE, the power was only out for about eight hours or so, and most of it was while we were at work and school. To be safe, though, I packed an overnight bag when I got home (while we still had daylight to work with) and we were all ready to head to a hotel after dinner. Just before we left for the restaurant, though, the house came back to life and my husband and I breathed a big sigh of relief.

And then I had a wonderful dream about MDS&W last night. After all, it's only about three weeks away!

Out and About

So far I've resisted the urge to go to Wal-Mart in Tampa for more cotton. My resolve may go out the window after lunch today, though. I have one more day here, and I'm running out. I've been trying to pace myself. On a break yesterday, I took the miter out to show it the fountains at the hotel so that it wouldn't feel heartbroken that I wasn't going to hammer out a few more rows:




This yarn is the "shades of green" that I was originally doing in my standard burp cloth pattern. I ripped it out and started a big miter square to feed the fever and then I've now picked up stitches along the edge to add another and make a nice rectangle. Problem is, I'm enjoying it so much and I love the green so much that I think this one may morph into a blanket and the baby ombre may end up as a series of burp cloths (though they are actually the perfect size to have a bunch on the changing table to serve as "fountain covers" for the wee one, which gives me a reason to do some burp clothes and other layette items with the cone of baby ombre that I have). Since I did this miter with 75 stitches (36x36), I only need seven more skeins of this to work. Imagine ... a $10 handknit blanket!

In any event, I'm going to need me some more green. I may break down ... it would be nice for the little one to have a blanket that was started in Florida with some yarn from Florida. We'll see how things go this afternoon.

Thoughts on Travel Knitting

I'm in Tampa on a business trip -- I'm here for my absolute favorite training seminar ever. I try to go to this every year ... and it's even better when it's in a locale that is warmer than home. I love to travel for my job. Sure, it's hard to get away from the family, but at the same time I always feel a little more connected when I get home. Plus, there's the fun of travel knitting.

I don't know what it is that makes travel knitting different than home knitting, but I seem to always make great progress when I'm on the road. Maybe it's the long plane ride (which, incidentally, this time caused my pregnant ankles to expand beyond belief) or the fact that there aren't home distractions, but I feel like I can crank. And crank I have ... to the point where pretty soon I'm going to be stuck with only the surplice jacket to knit on.

In addition to my swollen ankles (I'll remember to drink tons of water and walk alot on the flight back), I've also managed to catch the case of miter fever that's going around the knitting community these days. Wendy's doing a sweater in them, and Cara is doing a blanket. I expect this to enter pandemic proportions soon. It's probably a good thing that Stephanie is on a book tour or else she might start doing them too and then there would be a serious recession in pattern sales as everyone embraces this ever-so-simple knitting delight.

I decided to give them a try with a simple baby blanket of squares. I ran out of the cotton I brought with me on my trip (in this colorway, that is). These were done in a few short hours and are the basis for a new baby blanket made of these cute little squares.

I am strangely compelled to seek out the local Wal-Mart for more cotton ... but the fact is, I have a one-pound cone of this at home so I had better not. Of course there's always the option of mixing in matching solids, but ...

And in other news, the bib that was completed on my flight down to Tampa yesterday. All it needs is a button (and to have the ends woven in, of course). Ironically, this is made from Plymouth Fantasy cotton.

I did this before I became obsessed with the miters (that happened today on a conference break). I have two balls of Peaches & Creme left to last me through the rest of the conference before I'm left only with the surplice jacket and the remaining Plymouth. Tomorrow, I'll show you what I'm doing with it and I'll let you know if I gave in and sprung for a cab ride to Wal-Mart to get more.

On Knitting Wee Things...

So after the collective sigh went out over Baltimore and places further away following my last post (thank you for all the wonderful comments-we are, indeed, very happy), I had some serious planning to do. What to knit for the wee one?

Fortunately, I had seen the March 26 post over on Rosie's Blog the week before the big reveal, so I had a plan. I just needed colors. In fact, I had planned neutral and picked up some ecru Peaches & Creme (GASP! This from the fiber snob...) and started the jacket, but it's really knitting up at too high a gauge. The cotton is too thick -- and while I know it will fit the babe someday, I want something that will work right away. So the cotton jacket was relegated to the knitting basket for future knitting (left it on the needles) and I started one in some green Dale Baby Ull with a trim of NatureSpun that I grabbed at Cloverhill this past weekend. I'll do an i-cord trim in the navy (though admittedly I fear that it will look too Izod) as well in lieu of buttons. I started working that up on Sunday on #3 needles and the size looks much better. Since it's a variation of the Baby Surprise Jacket, I expect to finish this rather quickly once I get moving on it. Bonus: It will complement the Basil blanket once I get the $^%&ing edging done (almost, I swear).

Why am I not plowing through it? Well, you see, I'm obsessed with burp cloths and bibs. Quick knits that I can churn out in a few days and enjoy. The bonus there is that the baby will need tons of these (or rather, our shoulders will) to supplement the flat cloth diapers that I love for this purpose. Not to mention that a few weeks ago I was seriously bitten by the Peaches & Creme bug after fondling Farmer Auntie's dishcloth-in-progress and realized that this may very well be the one yarn I buy at Wal-Mart. You really can't beat $1.50 for a burp cloth. I headed to Wal-Mart that week and picked up three cones -- one of the ecru, a yellow ombre and a "baby-color-mix of green, pink, blue, yellow and white. I'm stocked for a while and I'm starting to churn out the cloths. Not to totally send myself to the depths of the Big Box Yarn Section, I also picked up some more Plymouth cotton at Cloverhill and am amusing myself with a pretty blue bib.

Sorry there aren't any pictures with this post, but my camera is packed for a trip to Tampa later today and I just don't feel like pulling it out right now. I'm packed with the Baby Surplice, enough cotton for a bib or two and the remains of the green burp cloth I've been working on, so I'll take some pictures later and maybe add them into this post.

The Verdict is In

So all day I sat, edgy as all get out, wondering and waiting. Waiting and wondering. Pondering my nails and wanting to chew them to bits. Reading e-mails that said, "Think Pink" and hearing "I just know its a girl ... that's what you want, right?"


It's enough to make anyone crazy.


And then the time came. I headed out to the doctor's office, not knowing if my husband was going to be able to leave work to join me. While I was waiting in the office for my name to be called, he rang to tell me he was on his way ... would they start right at 3:30? He might not get there in time.


They called my name, and I headed back for the sono, bladder ready to burst (a necessary evil for the procedure) and still waiting for my husband.


"Do you want to know what you're having?" she asked.


"Yes, but not until my husband gets here. He's on his way," I replied.


So she got started, in gender-neutral terms.


Brain? Check. (No hydrocephalus or anything odd.)


A kick on camera -- did you feel that? Of course not, placenta is in the front, over the belly, kinda like having a mattress in there for the kid to punch. Ah, that's why it seems like such a quiet baby (by no means is this child quiet, believe me, after seeing it on the screen.)


Femur? Check. (Good length; too short is not so good.)


Ooh -- there's a foot. Great shot. All five toes with all their bones.


Heart? Check. (With all the valves pumping as they should.)


Belly? Check. (Round and baby-like.)


Look -- there's some fingers ... baby holding hand over head. Very cute.


I'm in love. Swooning and watching with the greatest of fascinations that mommies feel on these moments. They're intimate, after all -- just you and the kid. Like a secret ... the baby's in there, but they're still all yours ... no one else can touch yet. But all the while I'm still waiting ... for that final piece of information.


Then my husband came in.


We went through the whole thing again. Brain. Femur. Heart. Belly. Fingers. Toes. Kicking the placenta-mattress. Quiet baby? Think again. This one's a tumbler.


"Can I tell you now? Please pretty please? It's been killing me -- I've known since I first put the paddle on you," she says.


Fifteen years and she hasn't been wrong yet. Deep breaths all around.


"Let's take a look between those legs, little one."


Now let me tell you, at this point, I've gotten myself so worked up I can't think straight. It's like the last play of a tie ballgame. Homerun or strikeout?


With a baby it's neither, I know, but after all this stress well ... it's hard not to feel that way. If you read my rambling post from earlier, I think my mental state through the day was pretty clear. Thank goodness I had some meetings that broke the strain and gave me other things to think about!


You see, years ago I resigned myself to having two boys. Realized that there probably wouldn't be a little girl in my life. My husband's family hasn't had a girl in something like 85 years. Got used to worms and mud. Came to understand that I'm really more of a "boy mom" anyway. And then I popped up pregnant ... and the swirl of folks talking about girls and pink got me all swept up. It was hard not to get hopeful and go back to that moment six years ago when they declared the Yarn Sniffer was a boy. And the time two years earlier when Zee was "discovered" and my best friend and I just said to each other, "What are we going to do with a BOY?"


I figured it out then, then re-figured again with the Sniffer.


It's a damn good thing.







'Cause this one's a boy, too.

Well ladies and gents, today's the day. The "big" ultrasound, the big reveal (if the kid "shows its stuff"). Announcement will be posted here later today (appt is at 3:30), but probably not until after dinner.

Am I nervous? You betcha. Are we "hoping" for one gender over the other? Sure we are. Will we be thrilled either way? Of course!

It's been an interesting few weeks over here at Chez Spinneas as I've come to realize just how nervous I am about finding out the gender of Baby 3. The Yarn Sniffer has already told people that he's getting a baby brother, even though I've told him over and over that we don't know YET but that we will soon ... Zee isn't saying much (says he's nervous over the whole baby thing). Hubby admitted last night that he's got fingers crossed for "something different" (as he put it). Everyone and their mother (and mine) keeps talking about a girl. What I worry about most is that if it's a boy there will be an anticlimax ... you know, no real celebration or splash. After all we've done it twice before.

At Cub Scouts last night, one mom of three boys and I had a nice long chat about how I'm feeling right now ... you know, this anticlimactic feeling ... resignation that I could end up "always the mother-in-law" to a girl and never the mom ... this "last chance" feeling that comes from knowing that this is the last baby and the last shot for a girl. But then, in true Girlfriend style, she leaned over and said (with a hint of glee) "You know, Wendy, the three-boy club is a great place to be too ... but all the members will line up to play with a little girl, too!"

Truth is, so many of the boys' friends have brothers -- it's a "two-boy club" so to speak -- that a girl would be shocking too.

But health, not gender, is what's most important. I want to see a healthy heart, brain, kidneys, etc., WAY more than I want to see the other parts. OK, I want to see the other parts too -- way more than I show it -- and if the kid doesn't make it easy, I could very easily go over the edge.

Stay tuned.

Knitting and Nailbiting

I can count on one hand (with fingers left over) the number of times in my life that I’ve actually had fingernails that were long enough and in reasonably good-enough condition to actually get a manicure. For decades I was a nailbiter, exacerbated by the fact that I have a milk allergy, which was just the excuse that those little appendages needed to break off in odd moments where no one in their right mind would have access to an emery board. That meant I simply had to bite off the offending area, which then caused stress that gripped me until I chewed the whole damn thing down to the nub. Damn weak fingernails. Tried everything – vitamin e, that “strong as nails” stuff, even had acrylic tips for a while after my wedding. But I tell you, there’s one sure fire way to get nails that work: Get knocked up. Works every time. (Remember I said I could count on one hand? One finger for each kid, folks. The acrylic tips from the wedding don’t count.)
Given the stress and strain of waiting until Thursday to find out what I’m having, it’s amazing that I haven’t chewed these nails off. I’m terribly impatient, and it’s killing me. My husband and I have even postponed our naming discussion until the big reveal. He says it will help us better focus the discussion and maximize time (he’s a techie, LOL) but I really think it’s to avoid stressing me out further. Like I said, it’s all I can do to not chew, chew and chew some more.

One thing for sure about these talons: I can’t let them go much longer though, or they’ll start to interfere with the needles.

Speaking of needles, I have a few things going.

First, there’s Basil the Wonder Blanket.

A few words about Basil. This is a Smith Island Pattern Factory opus, an absolutely dreamy baby blanket with a simple motif and has knit like a dream. Once the code was cracked, I was off with this and I’m now sitting on the edging. I’ve had it in my head that I would wait until we found out whether we’re having a boy or girl before starting said edging, tailoring it accordingly, but then it hit me that I absolutely LOVED this minty green. In fact, the nursery theme that I have in mind is primarily green. So in my haste to not only make something that matched but also work with what I already have, I opted for the green (which is one of my all-time favorite colors anyway) and started the contrast last night.

But I’ve reached my waterloo, I swear. This happened with Parthenope. It happened with the pi shawl way back when. Some edgings are just plain evil. They team up with the rest of the pattern to have you move along quickly and easily with yarn overs and lacy patterns that just go so fast you can’t believe it. And then you hit a speedbump and you’re right back to plain old knitting. Problem is, for some reason, that’s taking me a LONG time. Plain vanilla is screwing me up. It will happen though … I’m just impatient. And it’s taking all of my willpower at this point to keep going and not put Basil in the knitting basket with Parthenope (who is still two rows away from a bind-off).

Speaking of plain vanilla, I started a sock a few weeks ago (again, is it the plain vanilla that’s getting me and impeding progress?)

It certainly isn’t the yarn. This is Socks that Rock, people. It will happen, I know, but it’s a little frustrating. But, like most cases of Second Sock Syndrome (read the Harlot’s new book if you want specifics on the strains of this condition), it will pass with time.

I’m also moving furiously in the Land of the Knitted Burpcloth. I snagged some Plymouth mercerized cotton at the LYS the other day, and it seems one hank will make a decent sized shoulder cover. I have lunch plans to get more. Burpcloths seem to fit the bill for quick and easy knitting and all moms know you simply can’t get enough of those.

I’ve also been spinning.

Merino/tencel top from Vicki and Kendig Cottage. It's spinning thinner than it looks. I finished one bobbin a few weeks ago and Navajo-plied it … turned out great. But then I got to thinking … Geyl is on my list to start soon and I have a lovely green varigated Koigu for the main part … but this “Peacock” colorway might be perfect for the edging … so I’m going to do the other four ounces this thin and do a two-ply instead of the Navajo ply. I might have enough. I was going to use mill ends for this, but then this green Koigu jumped out at me and it seems perfect. There’s other Koigu in the stash that will work for the edging if the spinning doesn’t work out … and if it doesn’t, then someone will have a beautiful Peacock scarf this Christmas.

Then I’m on to another project … “Flair” by Wendy at Knit and Tonic. Problem is, I’m planning on spinning the yarn for that, too. At our January spinner’s group, I picked up about 20 ounces or so of a luscious Oreo-like yarn – you remember, that absolutely delightful wool that I spun with great zeal last fall. The pattern calls for about 750 yards of worsted, and I can do that. It’s a cute little swingcoat that will be perfect for those chilly fall days. I’m going to make the sleeves just a little longer than the prototype, though that’s my only foreseen modification to the pattern.

Two days until the reveal. And then comes the anticipation of waiting for MS&W (and the big yarn diet).

Will the nails survive?

It's All in the Surprise

OK folks, we're down to one week and counting until we find out whether Baby #3 will be a boy or girl. And there's a lot of pressure, too ... heaven help this child if it has a penis. There are going to be lots of disappointed people who have been praying, divining and just plain hoping that we have a girl. I am, after all, the only female in this house -- even the beagle is a boy. But I'll be happy either way.

I get the questions and comments all the time -- "Are you feeling different with this one?" "Do you have an instinct one way or another?" "Oh, I'm holding out hopes that its a girl this time!" and my own personal, particularly stressful favorite from my husband, "This is the last shot for a girl, so I'm hoping for your sake it is. Personally, the thought of a girl scares me to death."

Seven days and counting.

But on to other surprises -- like some recent knitting. While there are multiple other projects on the sticks these days (including a sock and the Basil baby blanket from Courtney that I finally cracked the code on), last week I had to prepare a gift for my cousin, who had a baby shower on Sunday. (Of course she's having a BOY, which prompted even more discussion over the gender of Baby #3.)

So I knit up this:

Elizabeth Zimmerman's Baby Surprise Jacket never ceases to make me squeal in childish delight. It's an amazingly simply pattern that knits up in lightning speed and is just way too cute once you fold the knitting up and sew the seams. With the right buttons, it made a perfect gift for my cousin. She loved it. (Pay close attention to the gift bag at her feet -- I felt particularly clever wrapping the jacket for her "little monster" in a "little monster" bag -- and that made the the Yarn Sniffer squeal with delight because he was the gift bearer and everyone commented on how cute "his" bag was.)

But what else do you get at the baby shower for the daughter of Kniting Auntie of Aran fame? You get one hell of a baby blanket -- hand-designed, and hooded in the shape of a dragon, complete with spikes on the back and fire from the mouth. Lordy, I wish I had better pictures (and selfishly, I'm glad Cat opened mine first because it would have fallen flat after this one ...). I can picture her little boy playing with this blankie for years pretending to be a dragon and curling up on the floor sound asleep wrapped in "scaly" softness.

My aunt said the blanket was "the best gift she ever made for the best gift she ever got."

'Nuf said.

Updates

When I last left you, I had grand plans to finish Parthenope. Alas, I haven't touched her since that post. I think that part of my subconscious has me waiting to find out the baby's gender before I move forward ... after all, the finishing will be all the sweeter if I can "name" the shawl as I cast off. You know, dedicate it in some way. Maybe that's a bit extreme.

In any event, I've been moving along on Basil, and I swear it's been tricky. I've cast on and ripped FOUR TIMES. Not all because of gauging issues (that was the first and second times), but also because I can't seem to get the yarn right. I went nearly all the way with the Baby Ull and then ripped when I had a problem with the edging. Since I didn't run any sort of lifeline, I just ripped it all out. Then I started again, this time with a different needle, and didn't like the end result. Back to the frog pond. Then for some reason totally unbeknownst to me, I cast on in cheap white acrylic (no comments, please) thinking that the care factor might matter and then ripped when I got tired of the yarn squeaking -- ugh. Now I'm working in a wool/acrylic blend (much quieter) in a pretty green and I'm moving along. I'm waiting for Courtney to get back to me with a clarification on the pattern, but this one is not getting ripped for any reason whatsoever. This version is for my cousin's babe (due the week of MS&W) so I must get it done so I can do one for my own little one. No pictures, because Knitting Auntie of Aran Fame (who is soon to be the proud grandmommy) reads this blog.

Next on the sticks after the second Basil is a Baby Surprise Jacket for our little one ... but I'm waiting to see if I should do it in a lovely heather green or a deep scarlet. We find out the gender in exactly three weeks ... and then I can finally start my shopping list for MS&W!

The Letter P

I'm finally on the home stretch with Parthenope. I can taste it. Five more rows -- straight vanilla rows alternating knit a row, purl a row -- and this girl will be off the sticks. And for some reason, I think I may very well be a little sad to see it go.

I'm not quite sure why. I started Parthenope right around Thanksgiving, had to rip out a full beginning or two because I was having some problems with the pattern. I've had to e-mail Courtney and Wendy two or three times with questions about said pattern. I finally put her on a diet -- partly to help it fit me (I'm very petite) and partially to save my sanity. My husband has been laughing for months (literally) at the yellow and calling the poor girl "The Big Bird Shawl." To add insult to injury, photos of knitting lace are pretty boring and given Parthenope's size (really people, it WILL look like a blob), I've neglected to share her growth with you here on the blog. I've loved and loathed this project simultaneously for the past three months.

Finding out that I was pregnant in the midst of the whole thing put the brakes on the knitting. I slowed down to do things like get extra sleep, eat more (it's hard to knit and eat yogurt) and deal with two brothers who are sticken with cabin fever and dreams of blizzards. My assistant, er, associate, at work quit at the absolute worst time of year and took off on a whirlwind trip around the world and I had to recruit (note that this is why I did not really pick up on the pregnancy -- stress makes you skip). But through it all, Parthenope has been there, even with last-minute holiday gifts, the Diamond Fantasy Shawl and other little things.

As it turns out, I'm pretty sure I started Parthenope right around the time our little bundle of joy was created. Had I known I was pregnant, I probably would have done Parthenope in blue. (I have a house of men, and I presume this pregnancy will produce the same, though there are many, many people who are going to blast me for saying that. Everyone wants a girl ... no pressure here!) But I didn't. I picked a sunny yellow -- odd for me, honestly -- and through the past three months of dismal weather, holiday stress, unexpected pregnancy, work nightmares, etc., a ray of sunshine has been growing in my knitting basket as well as my belly. This week she will be reborn as a full, beautiful yellow square. We'll have to wait a few more months for the other blessing.

Parthenope has become the pregnancy shawl. I have a sneaking suspicion that she'll be the first thing to go in the baby's layette ... because, boy or girl, this shawl has already draped the baby in handknit love as I sit and knit and knit with this in my lap.

I honestly can't wait to show you ... let me slog through those last few rows.

Diamond Fantasy

Over the weekend, I finished the charity shawl. As I cast off Diamond Fantasy, I panicked. Two skeins of Koigu ... same colorway as Charlotte's Web ... and the thing looked like a hankerchief. I immediately cast-on for another super-fast knit ... using my precious merino/tencel blend from Ellens Half Pint Farm (purchased at Stitches). I've been knitting, knitting, knitting on it -- and making great progress.


This morning, in the wee hours, I looked at the Diamond Fantasy and felt a bit sorry for it. Koigu shouldn't sit in a wad without a good block, after all. At the very least, I should give it a shot, right?

Obviously, I forgot the wonder of blocking lace. The teensy weensy kerchief blossomed this morning into a shawl that is 60 inches from wingtip to wingtip and 30 inches from the center point up. Here it is on my queen-sized bed:




You can't really see the head and foot of the bed, but the shawl is only about 16 inches short of spanning the length. I think it's big enough, and perhaps my panic was a bit premature.


Here's a closeup of the lace itself:





And a tight look at the edging:





Will this do for the charity silent auction?

The Long and Short of Things (Plus A Long-Term Project)

It's been a rough (but very interesting, as usual) couple of weeks here at Chez Spinneas. In my last post, I was slogging along on some lace projects, and since it's been so long (I've had my reasons) I thought an update might be due. For those non-knitters visiting today, I'm also trying to avoid "knitter-ese" or at least spelling out the abbreviations. Apparently my last post was pretty hard for those-without-sticks to comprehend.


The Long of It: I'm finally a mere 14 rows from finishing the edging on Parthenope and moving on. This shawl has taken me a long, long time. Pictures wouldn't show you much (it's LACE, after all), so I'm withholding until I can give you a good pic of Parthenope with Pins or a nice finished object (FO) picture. But the end is finally in sight, and that is making me happier than you'll ever truly know. This pattern has been wonderful, aside from the little nuances that make every designer different, it's been a joy to knit.


The Short of It: Remember in my last post how I said I was starting a pi shawl with that skein of Helen's Laces yarn? Well, it got frogged (non-knitters, that means that I "ripped it, ripped it") because the varigation was really muddying up the pattern. Since this particular shawl is being done for a silent auction taking place next month to raise funds for a very special school, the shawl needed to be done just right. So I shelved the pi in favor of Sivia Harding's Diamond Fantasy Shawl. I swatched it with a skein of Fleece Artist merino sock yarn, and loved the way the shawl was shaping up. The varigation worked, gauge worked, everything worked. Except the color (it's a varigated brown). On a high from reaching the edging on Parthenope, I bought some Anne (non-knitters, that's a yarn) and swatched it out. I hated it. The Anne is a nice pewter color, but it just didn't look right in this pattern. So I hit the Koigu in my stash and pulled the final two skeins of the colorway I used for Charlotte last year. It has beautiful greens, purples, blues and grays, and it's working out beautifully. I'm on the fourth of seven repeats of the second chart (non-knitters, that's fast and furious progress), and I'm on target to reach my deadline with it. The Yarn Harlot finished hers with the same amount of yarn, so I'm holding strong that the Koigu will hold out for me. I'm on the second ball, and since it's extremely difficult to match Koigu colorways, keep your fingers crossed for me. I have faith that things fall into place.


Long Term Project: Things fall into place for sure, and I've almost always tried to take things as they are dealt to me. One of the few times I didn't resulted in a huge karmic shift that forced life to bite me in the ass. So what is the long-term project?





Well...















Yup. The Yarn Sniffer is six (seven just after this one arrives) and his big brother is eight (nine later this year). So after years of having kids that can dress themselves, feed themselves and sleep through the night, I'm having a baby. Had my first doctor's appointment yesterday and it turns out I'm 11 weeks. It's a good thing I've been through this before -- I'm a week away from my second trimester. Nothing quite like a good old fashioned case of denial coupled with a doctor's busy schedule to put things in a holding pattern.


We're actually quite thrilled about it. Even the boys are happy. We won't know whether it's a boy or a girl for a few more weeks, but when we do, I'll be sure to share.


In the meantime, let me share a different version of the ultrasound picture -- cropped and rotated by my husband -- that seems to show that this little peanut is already on the move:






His original intent was to just zoom in and rotate so that the head, arms, belly and legs were clear for folks. But when he showed it to me, I started laughing my fool head off saying that it looked like the baby was standing up in full walking posture. We've dubbed this picture "Fetus Taking a Stroll." I apologize if it isn't funny to anyone else, but I think it's absolutely hilarious.


So, the 29-week countdown begins!

Pass Me Another Pi

OK, I know I said I'd never do it again, but last night I cast on for another pi shawl. Heaven help me.

I knit my first pi shawl in 2006, and had grand plans of doing the beautiful patterned one in the Knitter's Almanac. However, after many many problems with deciphering the pattern and getting the stitches to work, I cast it aside and instead opted for the simpler concentric circles one.

It's amazing what a fresh eye (and a better understanding of EZ) can do. I sat down yesterday and attempted to figure out what I was doing wrong the last time, pulled out a calculator, and figured it out. You see, when EZ says, "K5, *YO, K2tog, K57*, ending with K5, she really means "K5, *YO, K2tog, Kx to last 59 stitches, ending row with YO, K2tog, K5." That was my hangup. I was trying to do the full repeat at the end and squeeze the "ending with k5" into stitches that just weren't there, no matter what the math. Dumb, dumb, dumb mistake.

The yarn is Helen's Laces in the Black Purl colorway, and so far I love the way it's knitting up. This shawl is not destined for my shoulders, but rather for a silent auction at my husband's school in two months. They have a huge fundraiser for the school, and he's pitched my lace work for an item to be auctioned. I opted for this colorway simply because of its dark purples -- the winner can immediately drape it over her little black dress (the school is CHILLY!)

To repeat: Heaven help me.

Happy New Year!

In 2006, my first blog post of the year was filled with some resolutions. I accomplished all of the knitting ones. For 2007, I had wild plans to do the same, but I'm already a week into the year and just now getting around to blogging. I don't think that makes them resolutions anymore... so I give you Spinneas's List of Knitting Goals for 2007.

1. Learn to knit with two hands. Non-knitters reading this blog are not likely to know what I'm talking about here, but in order to do colorwork, rumor has it it's easier to knit one color with one hand and one color with the other. On New Year's Eve, I set out to train myself to do this. It was awkward, to say the least, but I figured it all out. You see, I knit continental-esque with my left hand, and I've been "picking" for years. It's more awkward (and slower) to "throw" the yarn with the right hand. Here was a preliminary result of my efforts:



Just a little test with some Katia Austral, but it worked out fine, and leads me to Goal #2.

2. Tackle Fair Isle. Hence the goal for two-handed knitting. I've done lots of knitting, but one thing I've never done is something truly two-color (I don't think that stripes really count here). On Thursday, I headed to my LYS and picked up a Philosopher's Wool Color Your Own kit for a Fair Isle cardigan and got started.



I dove in that night and finished about 4 inches of a sleeve, but my gauge was way off, so on Saturday I started again. This time, gauge was much better, I cut the cuff short by a repeat and was well on my way. I cannot yet tell whether Fair Isle knitting goes faster than regular knitting, but I'm already past my elbow with the one sleeve, and could conceivably finish one sleeve today if I hunker down and go exclusive (not likely, since my house is a train wreck).


3. Complete another Clapotis. I finished the clapotis, and decided that I'm not crazy about the varigation that I chose. I'd like to try again with something a little more neutral (or at least less pastel). It's an easy knit, and one that can be put down and picked up frequently without worrying about losing one's place on a chart or pattern.


4. Complete the patterns from the Smith Island Pattern Factory. I finished Maude, Parthenope is moving along nicely, and I make it a habit to purchase all of Courtney's patterns as they come up. So I'm going to finish them all in 2007 . Right now, her portfolio is manageable, and if I'm going to be dedicated to one designer, now is the time to get started. Here's Parthenope on her third repeat. I'm not sure how many more repeats I'm going to do, but I probably won't take it all the way to 10 reps, just because I'm smaller than average, and I generally have to cut things short or have them end up gargantuan.

5. Get my sock mojo back. I've lost it somewhere, and the loss has stranded two separate No. 1 socks into UFO land. I'm hoping it will turn up soon.

6. Take more pictures of non-knitting. I took the following photo one morning when this sunrise caught my eye and I couldn't resist. I even woke both my kids up to see it.


I think that's enough for now, though I'm sure a technique or other idea will come around that I'll add to the list!

Christmas Fondue**

I've been pretty incognito lately, sorry for the absence. It's hard to write about knitting that you can't show off on the blog, so knitting content will resume after gifts have been given. Somehow or another during this time, I also managed to miss my blogiversary. Oh well, right?

Enough about my absence... I'm ready to chat about holidays and traditions.

When I was a child, the 23rd of December had a certain mystique. I can't quite put my fingers on it, but in so many ways it was almost as magical as the 24th. School was over for the break, there were large tins of cookies all over the house and always there seemed to be a stack of LPs on the turntable that played holiday music all day long. Some of those LP covers really stick out in my memory ... the old Gene Autry Rudolph album, the Royal Guardsman's "Snoopy's Christmas" (that was my dad's) and lots of others, including one of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir doing all the holiday traditionals. By this time, we had already watched "Babes in Toyland" (while my mother burned the chocolate cookie press men) and "White Christmas" (while we trimmed the tree). We had already spoken to Santa on the direct-line phone at the firehouse, which was trimmed to the hilt and had a huge room FILLED with electric trains racing over snow-filled landscapes and little model references to our small town. There was a promise of visitors throughout the next day, a church service and a very giddy night when I swore I could hear sleigh bells and see Santa on the horizon through my bedroom window. Forcing myself to go to sleep so that he would actually arrive (I knew he was nearing our state because the local radio station had a direct line to the "official" Santa radar).

On Christmas morning, my parents would make my brother and I wake them before heading downstairs to the tree. I remember it was tortuous to wait while my father went first and made his instant cup of coffee and a cup of hot tea for my mother. (In retrospect, I was glad it was instant...it took less time.) He would also get the old camera ready (it took flash cubes, remember those?) and lay in wait for my brother and me. He'd call up the steps to my mother, who was ready in her terrycloth slippers and pink robe, and she'd go down the steps first. My brother and I would follow, and we'd stop at the foot of the steps before going down the long hall of our A-frame into the living room. Again, Mom would go first -- this time not to stop us from dashing in, but to make sure that we. kept. our. eyes. closed. You see, my folks had a ritual of taking a picture of us as we opened our eyes and saw the tree and our stockings. Every year we did this ... and I honestly don't remember when we stopped. I'm sure it had to do with a discovery of a certain something. All I know is that of all the traditions of my childhood, this was the one I liked the least.

Traditions are funny things, and its equally odd to see the merging of two very different cultures into a single family. You see, my husband had a very different Christmas experience ... no less loving, for sure, but he was a city kid living with his grandparents without his mother. I've heard the stories of the years that his dad went whole hog at Christmas ... the year of the "Mighty Casey" electric train that carried a four-year old around the house on a large track, and tales of him racing downstairs in the morning and then running around waking everyone in the house (some of whom had only just fallen asleep). Christmas was more materialistic in his house than in mine, for sure. I kid you not when I say that I've heard stories of the year the presents were piled to the ceiling (his dad was dating a sales clerk at the toy store) . That was the year he and his bro got an air hockey table and a arcade-size "Happy Days" pinball machine. These days, his family has a huge Christmas Eve party with a bushel of oysters and steamed shrimp and everyone opens their gifts at midnight. We duck out long before then with the kids but there is always much alcohol and revelry (unfortunately, someone always manages to drink too much and shoot their mouth off at the wrong person ... like I said, we duck out early). All I have ever heard music-wise on Christmas Eve (with the exception of the year that his dad drank too much and made us listen to Kenny G over and over) was rock music.

My husband and I have managed to meet halfway on the kids' gifts (they get plenty -- more than my relatively sparse years but way less than his "up-to-the-ceiling" year. I still watch "White Christmas" every single year while I decorate the tree, but not until after my husband puts the tree up to the backdrop of The Who's "Tommy." I make the cookies, but there aren't 10 tins (and I don't dare make the chocolate men for fear that I'll burn them and be destined to suffer the merciless teasing that my mother has endured for years).

Another tradition that has transferred -- and grown in a way -- was the legend of the elves. When I was little, a conversation like this was not uncommon in our house in December:

Dad: "Wen, quick -- look at the window!"

Kid: "What? I don't see anything."

Dad: Oh, it was an elf. Checking in on you to report back to Santa. You missed him."

Now of course this only really worked for a short time. But I carried the tradition to a pair of two little spirited girls that I babysat for one evening in December when they were out of control. I spun a yarn about a gentle-elf named Harold Holly who was watching them and reporting back to Santa. They snapped right into shape, and after they were asleep that night, I wrote a note to them from "their" elf. I explained the whole thing to their mother and father when they got home, and thankfully they loved the idea. In fact, the Legend of the Elves grew and grew. Shortly after that fateful evening, an elf doll arrived at their house one night. The same elf doll kept coming each year and after a short time, he grew up into a bigger doll. He kept coming, though, and I'm pretty sure that two young adults (the youngest is nearly out of college by now I'm sure) still have a great memory. Not to mention that their friends' parents joined in on the game, and a local boutique eventually stared a whole elf section in their holiday decorations.

Harold Holly and his brother Howard come to our house each and every year. They arrive shortly after both children have exhibited good behavior and they leave when Santa picks them up on Christmas Eve night. Harold (who is red) started coming when Z was a very little baby, and his brother Howard (who is green) started visiting when The Yarn Sniffer came along. We're hoping that they'll come tonight ... for you see, they come together and the Sniffer hasn't been a very good boy these days. School is wreaking havoc in his life and he can't stay on the green light. I'm confident they'll be perched somewhere in our living room tomorrow when I wake up.

But they'll be gone by the time we awake on Monday ... and I make my husband wait upstairs with the boys while I make the coffee and get the camera ready to take their picture when they come into the living room and first open their eyes and see their gifts ...

Share your traditions with others. Tell me about them. But above all, have a wonderful, magical holiday!

**My husband participated in the creation of this entry. His thought processes can sometimes be quite abstract... hence the use of "fondue" instead of simply saying, "melting pot."

A Quickie Update

I've been really bad about posting lately, but car problems, work and household stuff (i.e. holiday decorating) have been keeping me busy. Not to mention a super-secret family project that has absolutely nothing to do with knitting. Only two people know about said project, and I'm afraid that you all will have to wait until after Sunday when it makes its debut. Only one of the people in on the project will be there at the party; the other person is my mother (my folks are divorced and this project involves my father's family). It's gonna be really great.

On to other things ... like my knitting. Progress has been reasonably slow here at Chez Spinneas, particularly because I've made the command decision to not drive myself wacky with holiday knitting. This time last year I was scrambling to finish facecloths and scarves and all other kinds of things, and I hated every minute of it. Knitting for me is therapeutic, and the holidays are stressful enough without turning my cherished hobby into an instrument of torture.

Following car problems leading into Thanksgiving, I started just about every project imaginable trying to find on special piece that would give me solace. I ended up ripping out just about everything and filing it away in the "not the right time" category (rather than leave a bunch of UFOs on the sticks). With the exceptions of a few pairs of socks and a clapotis (sorry, can't show you those right now because I'm not sure it won't make it into the the Santa bag). I started the clap right before Thanksgiving, and only just finished it on Sunday. Got REALLY bored on those straight rows, ended up cutting it a few repeats short because I'm a small person, and then wrapped it up. It turned out well; I'll post a picture after Christmas.

I also de-stashed. I can't believe how much fuzzy stuff I had in my stash. I pulled out all of that, along with some single skeins and my bits and pieces ('cept the Koigu -- even scraps do not leave my house) and took it to the wonderfully enabling director and assistant director of my kids' aftercare school. They are knitters and dutifully working on scarves and other things for the holidays, and they've already dived in and are hard at work on even more projects. The director there is an absolute doll -- she loaned me her wool cards "indefinitely" and I adore her for it (though I'm really hoping that the holiday elves will see fit to bring me my own). The assistant director took it upon herself to teach the kids how to finger-crochet this summer. Not my first choice, but the boys loved it because it was easy and they made necklaces. The smaller balls of yarn? The end bits of projects? Well, doll drawings need hair and all of those macaroni ornaments need hangers. Kids love yarn, and I'm happy to share.

So what's on the sticks for me? The latest pattern from Courtney at the Smith Island Pattern Factory: Parthenope. I ended up screwing up my first start and ripped out the entire first repeat of the chart last night. I'm nearly back where I left off.



Hopefully I can get it right this time!

Interruption

I interrupt this unscheduled hiatus with a post to let everyone know I'm alive. Just busy, and going through some issues that have taken my mind from knitting (though I've had a serious case of castonitis, I just can't find a project to fit, you know?)

Soon, I promise.