June in Photos

June's been one of those months.  Without further ado:

The Rams and Yowes blanket is finally finished.  Let's be more precise:  when the time came to sew the 700-plus border stitches down, I pressed the blanket into my mother's hands with quivering lips and batting eyelashes, and pleaded for her to put it out of its misery.

This blanket would still be stuffed in it's dedicated bag on top of the dryer if not for my mother.  A big round of applause goes out to dear Mom.

Never has a project been fraught with more neurosis.  I confidently stated that I wasn't interested in getting gauge, since it was a blanket.  Well, I should have listened, because in the end I ran out of several of the lighter colours to complete the edge, which is folded back upon itself:

Normally the back side would have the same dégradé effect as the front.  I toyed with the idea of ordering more wool just to complete the backside, but then decided against it.  To hell with integrity.  This project has been simmering on the back burner for over a year now, and I really wanted to get it done.  Now.  In the end, I'm okay with it - the blanket is complete and the end result is more than I hoped for.  Anyone who comments on the back gets a well-deserved smack.

Here's the front for your viewing pleasure.  Kate Davies is brilliant, always has been, always will be.  And Jamieson and Smith Shetland Jumper Weight?  Yes...yes please.  There will be more of this in my future.  What's insane is that NONE of the nine colours in this blanket  are dyed - they're all natural and named for the shades of Shetland sheep they come from:  white, gaulmogot, katmollet, mooskit, sholmit, shaela, moorit, yuglet and black.  And the smell?  I want to bury my face in this blanket and sniff away:  it smells of lanolin with just the right hint of barnyard.  Yummm.

Cue the rubber boots:

Our weather has been absolute crap, for lack of a better meteorological term.  It's been pouring for weeks, and the fields are beyond soaking wet.  It's definitely rubber boot time:

When it's not raining and we venture outside where mosquitoes make our lives miserable.  Last year our spring and summer was win/win.  This year, it's lose/lose.  We even light the wood stove some nights, if just to cut the humidity.

The only plant happy this year are the roses:

These gorgeous pink roses have been run over by the mower endless times, but they resurrect themselves brilliantly.  This year, they were given a reprieve and have shown their gratitude by blooming profusely.  Maybe they can stay.

This climbing rose is one of the very few I left standing.  When we moved here, the grounds were over-run with badly maintained roses.  One of the first things I did besides buying stock in Band-aids and Felco pruners was to cut most of them down.  My dislike of roses knows few bounds.  When given a bouquet, I remain gracious, but take them with outstretched arms and do a quick about-face to hide the resulting facial twitch that comes from repressed memories.  Thanks, I think.

That said and done, this year the pendulum is swinging back and I'm finding that I quite appreciate their beauty.

My guess is they like cold, wet weather, because that's exactly what they're getting.

We had a lot of wind and rain today.  Our wheat is now lodged:

I'm not sure what the next step will be.  We've never had lodged wheat, so this is a first for us.  I guess time will tell if the wheat is going to right itself, or if it's down for the count.  I'll keep you posted.

This elderberry bush is in full-bloom now.  Again, it's a wait-and-see approach regarding the berries, but the blooms sure are profuse this year.  If the birds don't get the berries, there will be lots of elderberry juice in our future.

Last weekend, we had a deer nibbling on the seabuckthorn berries.  The doe made her way up and down our hedgerow and perked up when she saw me.  I don't discourage deer when I see them, because it's quite rare they venture onto our property.  I gave her lots of room, hence the poor-quality zoomed-in picture.   Humidity hovering around the 90% mark doesn't help, either.  She sure was tall, though! 

With apologies for yet another poor-quality photo, here's a big coyote-wolf hybrid.  I've never seen a head on a coy-wolf as big as this one:

I was too stunned to get a better picture, because trailing behind was a little coy-wolf puppy.  I don't have a lot of sympathy for them and normally chase them away, but since it was my first time seeing one of their off-spring, I took the scene in from a distance.  I don't want to know how far they'll go to protect their young, so I turned back towards the house, throwing a glance over my shoulder a few times for good measure as they sauntered across the open field.

Our sunsets are few this month, and this is the only semi-decent one I have to offer for June:

There's still hope for July.  There's sun in the forecast for July 1, which is also Canada Day.  The timing for a Monday off couldn't be any better.

Welcome 2013

Since I ended 2012 with a "Year in Review", it would be fitting that I start 2013 in the same vein as 2012.

Welcome 2013!

Since we missed spending both Christmas AND New Year's together last year, our strategy and planning actually worked this year.  Eric managed to get the 24th off, as well as New Year's eve and day.  Things were going to work out for us, after all.

After a scrumptious New Year's Eve party at friends, we fell into bed at 2 AM.  One thing I have discovered over the years is 1) control rich food intake, and 2) ditto for alcohol consumption.    While I behaved last night, if you can call eating foie gras, scampi bisque and beef Wellington "behaving", I was also the designated driver, since Eric is most always the designated drunk.  (He's French, he can't help it.  Plus I think he deserves it - he's always shafted on weekends and holidays.)  But going to bed late throws me off, and waking up close to 10AM is the closest I come to feeling hung-over and jet-lagged.

Today, I need a nice blanket, a hot fire, and lots of mineral water.  Tomorrow, after a good night's sleep, I'll probably recover.

In 2012, I resolved to not buy any more wool and finish everything I start.  To say that resolution crashed-and-burned is an understatement.  I bought wool, I was given wool, and while lots of little projects flew off the needles, the biggest project I finished was my neutral Saga:

It's been finished for months, (despite the fact it languished for many more...) and when I finally threw it on and asked Eric to take a photo of me in it, this is what he handed me:

My ass, in digital form.  My husband, either not clear on the concept, or forever the joker, I know not which but I forgive him for both.  Thanks sweetheart.  At least it's proof my thighs don't touch.  I'm telling you, all the walking I do is paying off.

Now, since this is my second Saga, I did a few things differently.  I made a large this time, and added repeats to make the sleeves longer.  Despite using the same needle size for the seed-stitch border, it turned out a bit wavy, but I haven't blocked this baby yet, so that feature might block out.  Either way, I actually like the wavy, somewhat flared look.  I have monkey arms, so I added a few row repeats in strategic places on the sleeves as well as the yoke, so they're longer and not 3/4 like the pattern is written for.  I also wanted a large because I knew I'd be wearing this over my regulation gray cashmere sweaters which I wear like a uniform in winter months.  I've got them in all shapes, shades and styles.  The only prerequisite is that they're gray, and cashmere.  I aim high.  I always say, if I'm gonna be cleaning my house, I'm gonna be doing it in cashmere.  Take that, Mr. Clean!

I stalled on how to finish the front.  I didn't want frog-clasps like the first one, but something different.  It took me a few months to figure out what that "different" was.  Finally, I made a rolled garter stitch border, sewed it on the inside, and added buttons on both sides, all closed with a simple crochet loop:

The inside of this sweater is as nice as the outside.  I will be in love with lopi forever.  Here's a closer look at the closure:

Perfect it isn't, because it's not exactly wind-proof, but I was aiming more for look than practicality.  At some point, I'd procrastinated about this sweater so long, I just wanted it finished.  Job done, moving right along...

I blogged about my Blue Hole shawl which provided hours and hours of fun:

However, I didn't blog about the Vancouver Fog fingerless mitts done in Lana Gatto camel hair (seemingly on liquidation the world over and fabulous stuff!) and a cabled hat from Rowan book 48 called the Tinker Hat that I completely re-wrote.  I didn't do anything the pattern called for in the end.  I cast-on 96 stitches instead of 109 going down 2 full needle sizes, knit it in the round instead of seaming (who does that? who seams a freaking hat?) and winged every single crown decrease.  I also used only one ball instead of two, following some helpful tips on Ravelry.  I love this hat, it fits perfectly and is super-warm despite being loosely knit.  I love me some Rowan Cocoon, but I don't love me the price...but this being a one-skein project given my mods, I can easily justify the cost.

I cannot however justify the cost of the Sweet Georgia I ordered to make the Colour Affection shawl.  Not realizing it's dyed to order and the delivery time was 6 weeks, by the time I received my order, my love affair with the pattern had faded away like lust is wont to do.  Now this wool is languishing in a Rubbermaid bin in the laundry room.  Not even cast on, this wonderful wool might need to find another vocation.  So much for my 2012 resolutions.

Likewise, I fell in love with Kate Davie's Rams and Yowes on a whim.  Kate knows how to write a pattern, and Jamieson and Smith Shetland could be my antidote to lopi, I'm that much in love with it.   Again, total impulse purchase, but the project is still chugging ahead:

I've got 924 stitches on 3 circulars and can't hope to take a picture that makes sense, but it's turning into a work of art.

The border, which will be doubled, is a ton of work.  I've turned the corner and am now decreasing, so I'm on the downhill slope.  Busy bashing away on this baby, I hope to have a photo of my completed lap-blanket before long.  And I promise to keep my finger away from the "BUY NOW" button, and keep my Mastercard firmly in my wallet when it comes to buying more wool on-line.  You heard it here first.

In the interim, the days are getting longer, and we've probably gained a half-hour of daylight since the solstice just over 10 days ago.  Once again, the setting sun casts a shadow of the house against the side of the barn, and in minutes, I know I'll see the moon rise from behind the barn.  Despite the fact it's a bone-chilling -14C outside right now, with a wind-chill that would freeze exposed flesh in minutes (there's always a downside, isn't there though?), it's that time of year for reflections on the past and hopes for the future.  

So, with a click of the mouse, I'll turn the page on 2012, and open the book that is 2013.

My hopes are that everyone can experience the peace and gratitude that I feel, from the moment I pull up the blinds and find another fresh day waiting for me outside.  From the time I put my head on my pillow at night, resting with the knowledge I've done my best and accomplished something, no matter how inconsequential it seemed at the time.  From the knowledge that I've been kind and good and smiled and laughed, done a small favour or a big one, I appreciate my life, plywood floors and all.

Here's to 2013.  May it exceed our expectations.  May you all be able to see the gold instead of the snow.

Thoughts on UFO's

Now that I have your attention, I've got one thing to say:

No.  It's not a UFO.  It's just...it's just...(waaaaahhhhh!)...the new lights from Highway 30, slated to open some time in December, after more than three years in the making, and over thirty in the planning.  I actually meant to walk the length of the highway this past weekend before it opens to traffic, just for the heck of it.  Now that the lights are on, I'd better put it on my to-do list for this coming weekend or forfeit my chance forever.

I was worried about those high light standards, and well, all I can say is they're there, and they're lit.  Impressed I ain't.  Cue more crying...waaahhhhhhhhh!

Because my photography skillz are virtually nonexistent, (exposure? aperture? huh?), I wasn't able to capture the shot as it views to the naked eye, but the peak of our barn falls square in the middle of the above photo.  I liked looking out of the window into darkness, but that's a thing of the past now.

While I embrace the progress that is NA30, I have mixed feelings about the encroaching urban environment.  I don't want to end up the crazy old bitch who ends up padlocking herself to a barn while bulldozers move in to build yet another Walmart, but que sera, sera. Hopefully, I've got a few decades to plan my exit.  Who knows how things will end up?  Maybe the new infrastructure will direct new development away from us?  Given our crumbling infrastructure, the "30 in 30 (years)" is a welcome change on the horizon.  It's just too bad it had to change our view.

Not to let you down, I've got a UFO of a different kind to show you:

Yes, a knitterly UFO, hopefully soon to be a FO, or finished object.  UFO of course stands for unfinished object, every knitter's nemesis.  This blanket fell from grace months ago, yet with colder temperatures heading our way, I thought it would be nice to get it back on the front burner, pun wholly intended.  As with every project, there's always something to procrastinate about, and the crochet steek was my hurdle.  I downloaded Kate Davies' overly-explicit instructions, printed everything up, and pored over the material as though studying for an exam.  I crocheted.  I cut.  Simple as pie.  Why in dog's name did I procrastinate about this?  I'll never know.  The question that now begs to be asked is why am I procrastinating about picking up the 780 edge stitches?   I suppose because it's 780 edge stitches.  Why oh why do I do this to myself?  Why? Anyone?

Actually, the above photo does serve a purpose, besides showing my wonderfully manicured digits.  What it shows is the crochet steek with the central knit stitch exposed.  This is my cut line.  On the left hand side, you can clearly see the dark brown edge (half covered by crochet), where I piled my darks one atop the next, in a precise vertical line.  This is not my first steeked project, but it is my first with 5 steek stitches.  I started out with clear vertical light/dark/light/dark/light lines.  Then neurosis struck, and I checked other Rams and Yowes projects on line.  Seems many people chose to do a checker-board pattern in their steek, and being the proper sheep (punny me), I changed my modus operandi to the checkerboard pattern.  WRONG.  Wrong on so many levels, I don't even know where to start.  Those clear light/dark lines are perfect for crocheting into, and the checkerboard pattern...well...not so much.

Observe:

While a nice checkerboard pattern might give the uninitiated the impression you know what the hell you're doing, you need a freaking magnifying glass and those mega-watt light-standards from highway 30 to do a nice job.

In doing clear vertical lines where you haven't staggered the colors, observe the nice proper easy-to-follow lines:

When you crochet steek, you're crocheting into one half of EACH light and dark stitch.  The central light stitch will get cut open.  Crochet into half of light stitch, and half of dark stitch.  Do same thing on OTHER side of cut stitch.  You will have 2 rows of crochet, and you will then cut between these 2 rows.  Just trust me, the light/dark/light/dark/light striping method will be much easier to crochet steek and cut.

There you have it.  The truth about UFO's.  I'm so glad we had this little talk.

Now excuse me while I find another distraction to keep me from picking up those 780 edge stitches.

Rams and Yowes - A Progress Report

Sad but true, I am ashamed to admit that I fell out of love with my Rams and Yowes project.  This is the first time I've knit with Shetland wool, and if I were smart enough (which obviously, I'm not), I would have made a swatch and blocked it before launching into this project.  But I'm not interested in getting gauge - it's a blanket, after all - but what swatching would have done was still the nagging thoughts in the back of my mind that my knitting wasn't even enough.

When I looked at photos of blankets-in-progress on-line, I decided I must have been doing something wrong.  This blanket surely wouldn't block out perfectly, and with every passing row, my doubts and fears grew thanks to my very active imagination.

As projects are sometimes wont to do, it got put in its dedicated clear zippered bag, and placed on top of the dryer, not quite out of sight, but there as a mocking reminder of my knitterly short-comings.  Every time I went into the laundry room and did a load of laundry, there it sat, unrequited and unfulfilled.  It was the "nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah" of the wooly world.  And it was in the laundry room that my stroke of genius (I'm being kind, it was more of a lucid moment) came to me.  I'd just purchased a new state-of-the-art pressure steam iron.  A real steam iron - let me tell you - this thing ain't messing around.  And using said steam iron, I steamed my uneven stitches, and watched in joy and disbelief as each stitch relaxed under the steam's spell.  Suddenly, the knitting evened out, and I did a little jig.  If this were a relationship, well, we're back on again, as the saying goes.

So I'm giving the Rams and Yowes full attention these days, now that it's back on the front burner and the heat's turned up to high.  Since the above photo was taken, I've managed to finish the Rams in the middle section, and start in on the Yowes which mirror the opposite end.  I'm starting my third section of Yowes, so the end is in sight.  With a few more days of love, we'll be ready to steek and start the border, which involves picking up 700 plus stitches along all four sides.  I'll be sure to let you know how that goes.

And Now, Time for Some FO's

Ah yes, knitter's speak.  A FO is a Finished Object, the stark contrast to a UFO, or UnFinished Object.

Sometimes, projects enter knitterly black holes, and go from WIPs - Works In Progess - to UFO's.  No one can explain how it happens, but suddenly, something you've been bashing away on non-stop falls from grace, gets put in a bag, and left in the trunk of a car for maybe 2 years...not that that's ever happened to me, no way...

I really tried to knit from my stash this year, and I did a great job until Kate Davies' Rams and Yowes caught my eye.  Well, if that wasn't an impulse purchase, I don't know what is.  I started off fast and furious, made a few mistakes, pulled back a ton of work, and there the project languishes.  I vowed if I knit just 2 rows a day, I'd be done in 2 months' time.  That's not a terrifying commitment, yet it's not happening.  Maybe today, maybe today, is the optimistic battle cry of a rejected project.  After all, when all else fails, there's always hope.  I cling to that like a shipwreck victim clings to driftwood.

I do admit to having a gray mohair pullover in the trunk of the car.  It got cast on in a flurry, and it's nearly completed, and I don't really know what my excuse is for not finishing it.  Maybe it's become a fixture in the car, and seeing it in the trunk warms my heart with potential? I don't know, but what I do know is there should be a specialization in psychology expressly for knitters.  I'd sign up for intense therapy immediately.

On the positive side, Eric's Lopi fits my father like it was made for him.  The sleeve length is perfect, the look is perfect, and my father loves it.  Again, putting in the zipper took a leap of faith:

I've never sewn a zipper into a knitted garment before, ergo the procrastination.  It was fussy, fiddly, I swore, then I swore some more.  But the end result is sublime.  I added the gray decorative tape to hide the steek edge of the sweater, and although this little detail took literally hours of sewing, the effort was worth the outcome.  The inside of the sweater is now clean and properly finished.

Some people might say, "why bother"?  And it's true - why bother?  But then again, that philosophy can be applied to so many things in life.  Just call me a nit-picking over-achiever.  I wear that title with pride, dammit.

To give you an idea, here's a look at the inside before adding the trim:

The devil, she is in the details.  Ask any knitter.

Moving onto other projects.  I started off the year with the Cabled Buttoned Wrap designed by Plymouth Yarn Design Studio.  Inspired by a fellow knitter from our knitter's group, I cast on the exact same project with the exact same yarn and the exact same needles, and should have had the exact same outcome.  Alas.  I knit a lot tighter than dear Maureen, and with that tension, my shawl didn't have the same drape.  Lookie here:

I was disappointed, and wanted to frog the entire thing and knit it again with larger needles.  I thought of blocking it to oblivion and beyond.  In an epiphany, Maureen tried my shawl on, and preferred my tension over hers.  She's shorter and her shawl overwhelmed her.  So, we did a trade.  I took Maureen's shawl, Maureen took my shawl, and both of us wear each others' shawls with pride.  I gave Maureen her buttons back, since she had spent a small ransom on them, and then I dispatched my BFF Elaine to the wool store to find some buttons, because I hadn't had any luck finding something apropos.  This is what Elaine came up with:

Brilliant.  They suit the wrap perfectly, and the organic aspect appeals to my esthetic.  Not to mention, the finish is hand-rubbed and so smooth, just touching them soothes the senses.  I am in love, and this wrap has become my super-binky.  It is so infinitely wearable, I can put it over a thin coat, wear it in the house, at work, it's become a security blanket of sorts.  Although the wool looked bland on the skein, this colour (Drops Alpaca in Denim 8120) is anything but.  Little threads of red and brown interspersed through the wool gives a beautiful depth and neutrality. 

It's classic, it's malleable, and I am in love...

Now.   Sometimes we procrastinate about a project, just because we're not quite happy with what the instructions tell us to do.  I knit this little Lopi purse to match my Lopi Aftur sweater:

This pattern is from Istex and is called Taska.  I added two chart repeats, and ended up with a purse about 9" wide and 10" high.  The instructions called for knitted I-cord straps, and I couldn't bring myself to do it...it seemed chintzy and amateur and just didn't resonate with my inner knitter.

A few weeks ago, I headed over to a new LYS (local yarn store, for those not familiar with knittingese), and came across these beauties:

Ah-ha.  Now I know why I was procrastinating.  Because the universe wanted me to find these beauties.  Once the sticker-shock wore off, I put them on, and bingo!  Purse completed with a minimum of effort, yet maximum effect.  Man, do I love knitting!

Here's a look at the inside.  These handles by Sage Luxury might be expensive (gulp, I'll admit they cost me $55 CAD), but they finish the project off beautifully and are worth the money.  The quality is most definitely there.  So much so, I went back and bought another pair in black...  I'm not sure if I'll keep the dark brown on this purse, or switch them out for the black pair, I suppose it will all depend on what I knit next.

Again, because I'm in love, here's another view:

Can I mention one more time just how much I love the look?  Okay.  I'll shut-up now.  Project complete.  Verdict:  Total Success.

And, now for the pièce de résistance.  I actually finished the BMF.  (Use your imagination - this one I made up, B stands for Black, and the rest I'll let you figure out).

See how crinkled it is?  That's because it was SHOVED in the bottom of my knitting bag, literally scrunched into a little ball that started to work it's way into the corner of the bag, sort of like a terrifyingly huge wad of lint.  I'm not even going to bother washing it - although it might benefit a bit - because wearing it will help ease all those wrinkles out and even out each stitch.  I cannot believe the Black MoFo is donedonedone.

Hallelujah!

So there you have it.  My knitterly friends will know whereof I speak when I say procrastination is a necessary part of the creative process.  The rest of you should be so lucky.