Oh for Pete's Sake

Why did I give up sweets two weeks before Halloween? Honestly.

(And who in the world is Pete? Anyone? Anyone?)

N. Knit

(A note to reader Stepahnie first, if she's still out there- I realize now, in your comment when you wrote "BTW, what is that yarn you're using on the DPNs?!" you were asking about the yarn on the DPNs. Not the Magic Loops. The DPN yarn is Cherry Tree Hill, in Fall Foliage, and is 400 some odd yards of 100% superwash merino and was fabulous knitting. If you want to see them finished check this post.)

Had an odd, but delightful reinforcement of all I have learned since I first took up the needles in April.

My J. Crew catalogue arrived in the mail a few days ago and last night I sat down and flipped through it. I'm a huge fan of the long-haired, six feet tall waifs, the grinning men with just the right amount of facial stubble, the well-groomed golden retrievers, and the well-behaved, adorable children. I find the images relaxing and I love how they can be anywhere, at any time. Now we're playing pool at grandma and grandpa's estate. Now we're on our private yacht, sailing the Mediterranean. Now we're all running through a meadow and laughing without care. Ha! Ha!

I like to pretend that we have that life, instead of what is really happening: I'm sitting on the sofa in a pair of paisley, paint-stained pajama pants and a sweatshirt, sipping lukewarm tea, The Hubba is alternating between coverage of a football game on ESPN and the actual football game on FOX, two dogs are hurling themselves around the house locked in a death-grip of puppy sumo over their favorite toy frog, and somewhere, from the kitchen, comes the sound of another dog licking himself in a place we know will turn out to be inappropriate.

Still, I believe, if I have that chino skirt and sweater set and The Hubba has that blue sports coat and casually rumpled shirt, we will be THOSE people. I love my little fantasy and I prefer no one try to yank me out of it, thank you kindly. But last night I flipped open the catalogue spotted the Mutlistripe Dream Hat and heard the words: "I could make that." What? What was that? I looked around the room, but nothing looked out of place (dogs wrestling, dog licking himself, The Hubba was not home, the only difference in our usual scene). I kept flipping, I saw the Cashmere Cable Hat and again heard "I could do that." And the Pointelle Scarf. And the Snowflake Convertible Gloves (alright, I've not done these yet, but I could get it). I could do that, and that and that.

I had to set the catalogue down. J. Crew is my staple, my shopping go-to, in good weather and bad. If I could do what they sold in the catalogues then what use did I have for the store?

Luckily, I realized until I learn to sew (what? WHAT?), there would still be a reason for J. Crew pants, jackets, shirts, and shoes (whatever else happens, I will never be a cobbler). I need J. Crew. I need them for the dressing room clerks. We have a rapport. You see, I look GREAT in all their clothes. FANTASTIC, in fact. Allow me to set the scene.

I come out of the dressing room.
Clerk: You look GREAT in that.
Me: Really? Have you noticed this whole space between where the shirt ends and the pants begin?
Clerk: Oh, no. That tummy hanging over your pants- that is IN. Redneck chic, it's everywhere.
Me: Uh-huh. But what about the pants?
Clerk: FANTASTIC.
Me: Are you sure my butt doesn't look like the Titanic? In the scene where the ship splits in half and the back end's stuck up out the water? Does my butt look like that?
Clerk (smiling furiously, blinking rapidly): [pause]
Clerk: Are you kidding me? People LOVED that movie. That look is SO in. Those are GREAT on you.
Me (internally): This a trick. Do not buy into it. Do NOT buy it.
Me (out loud): I'll take it! And two of the Titanic pants!

See? Rapport.

Once I was reassured I could maintain this honest and open relationship, my confidence took a little turn upwards, knowing I could actually cobble together items that resembled those from the catalogue. Pretty quickly too. I had a brief Tom Hanks-Castaway style moment, only instead of jumping around a fire, I was jumping around my craft bag: Look at me! I make knitted garments! Ha!

Who knew a first garter-stitch dish cloth with a few gaping dropped stitches in a shocking neon blue-green cotton could lead to this kind of power?

Brighter in Burlington...

"Yesterday she didn't. But today... she does." Steve Martin, "Roxanne"

Today is a new day. Today is a good day. Today I have the rudimentary start of Magic Loop Socks.

First and most important, a huge thanks to all you fine people out there with your kind words of encouragement. I realize everyone's been there before, I'm not breaking ground on Disaster: The New Frontier, but it's always nice to see it in print before me. You were all so generous with your thoughts on this mess we call knitting.

Also, I can't help but feel I might have exaggerated the situation a teeny-tiny bit. Really didn't mean to leave anyone thinking I was ready to impale myself on a Clover Straight Needle size 11. The benefit to my experience of blunders is I've become highly skilled at not taking myself too awfully serious. If we live by Sara Jeanette Duncan's theory "One loses many laughs by not laughing at oneself" we can rest assured I am laughing ALL THE TIME.

Another one I'd like to thank is Knitty Yoda who took time today- about three and a half hours time- to start me over, with an entirely new pattern. IT'S WORKING! Thank God, Buddha, and Vishnu, we have progress!




I will have something to post, as all my Christmas gift pics are being withheld until after said holiday. I know it doesn't look like progress, not 3 and a half hours worth; trust me, those were leaps and bounds. Neil and the moon landing don't have much on two-at-once, toe-up, Magic Loop style socks.

And to all you knitters out there, if those DPNs look tiny, they're size 0. That's right: size 0. You know what that means.

To all you non-knitters, a comparison. I do most of my non-sock knitting somewhere between size 6 and size 8 needles. Observe a size 7 DPN to a size 0:



Again, those are the start of the socks (the hardest part, I would say, until Yoda mentions the heel and then I want to lie down somewhere dark and not get up for a little while) and, really, truly, you folks out there in comment land (and phone land, Dad and Kell-Bell) are much appreciated. You made this sad, sorry knitter feel a lot less sad and a little less sorry.

Also, for Stephanie- a new reader! who doesn't appear to have a blog in action yet but when she does I will alert you- that sock yarn is Katia, Mississippi 3 Print, a 60% cotton, 40% acrylic blend and if you're interested we have tons of them at the LYS where I work. It's recommended for size 3 needles, but yep, that's how loosely I knit, I have to go down, not one, but TWO sizes to get my gauge somewhere in the vicinity of accurate. Though, I must say doing these short row heels, I am wildly grateful to be a loose knitter, I cannot imagine trying to fight my needle through three stitches at a time. Point is, Stephanie (may I call you Steph?), I hope that helps and if not, let me know. I picked it because the colors reminded me of Play-Doh and, well, I am weird.

To my Sockret Pal, who left such a very nice comment yesterday, my foot measurements are (I know the rest of ya'll are just nutty with excitement):
Foot circumference: 8 1/4 inches
Length of Foot: 8 1/2 inches
Length of Big Toe: 2 inches
Ankle circumference: 8 1/2 inches*

Don't anyone dare say this blog isn't cutting edge information.

Finally, a thanks to my Sockret Pal for staying in touch. Don't worry about the gifts- I want them, mind you, but I'm willing to wait. And it's lovely to hear from you and yes, all is going well here. Hope the same is true for you.

Hope all ya'll (the all-encompassing version of ya'll), out there in Readerland, are well too. It's always exciting to check back on here, thinking, "Did anyone post? Who are they? What did they say?" and finding comments and then seeing your blog and making all you dear friends, close to home and world wide. So a big thanks. I'm awf'ly lucky to have such nice people checking in on me.
Alright, end Love Fest, full stop.

*Can I add My Crazies reared their head during these measurements and I actually thought "do I have fat ankles?" I've always thought I had rather nice ankles but 8 and a half inches- doesn't that seem a little big? Maybe I need some ankle weights and some special ankle-slimming vitamins? Should I start wearing black socks? Will Oprah be doing a "Fat Ankles and How to Fix Them" feature soon? Seriously, this is the place My Crazies take me, it is not pretty.

Brainless in Burlington...

(Warning: This post has no interesting pictures, no knitting progress, nothing in fact about knitting except a little tale regarding a Magic Loop Sock Class, a Life-Lesson, and a very frustrated and humiliated Me. This is, in fact, a fairly self-indulgent post and if no one ever reads it that will be fine. If you are looking for knitting pictures, discussions of projects or thoughts on pattern details I recommend you click on through to your next knitting blog destination. Thank you for your time and cooperation.)

"What a splendid head, yet no brain." Aesop

The class: last Saturday, twelve to two, run by Knitty Yoda. The theory: we would learn to knit two socks- at once!- on a pair of 40 inch Addis from the toe-up. I have mentioned before, I was excited about this class. I was already touting to the rest of the world this would be THE Knitting Socks method to end all Knitting Socks methods. I was ready.

I started with this:



and ended with this:



I am not, it turns out, up to Magic Loop Socks just yet. I am not, it would seem, skilled enough to start such a project. I am not, at least I hope, always going to feel quite so stupid as I did on Saturday.

I could not even work out the cast-on. THE CAST-ON, folks. The starting point, the jumping-off, the invisible cast-on I could not get. It was not pretty. I didn't write about it Saturday, which was good, because the screen would be tear-stained, probably filled with misspelled words and lots of slurs against Addis and socks and even, holiest of holies, Elizabeth Zimmermann and her invisible cast-on description. The class went a little something like this:

Hour 1: We've just begun, we're all smiling nervously at each other, Addis poised, ready to figure this out and get going.
Hour 2: We have all worked out the cast-on and gotten started. I am proud of myself, knitting along, following the directions to "Repeat Rows 4 and 5" and I am smiling, you guessed it, smugly. Until Knitty Yoda realizes I have not repeated Rows 4 and 5 I have repeated Rows 1 and 2. And now it all has to come out and I have to start over.
Hour 2 and a Half: My brain is jelly, I cannot figure out the cast-on. Knitty Yoda can get me started but then the whole thing falls apart the minute she puts her attention on another student.
Hour 3: (yes, in our two hour class there is an hour three) I have still not gotten going again. The other students are now knitting ferociously.
Hour 3 and a Half: I am a moron.

That is the best description I can give you. It was not good. No amount of Knitty Yoda's encouragement or the struggle of other students could take away the sting. Either you've been the dummy of the class or not and I can't tell you what it's like except to say AWFUL. At least I handled it well by coming home, snapping at The Hubba, ignoring the dogs, and eating my weight's worth in peanuts.

So it took a little time to remind myself why I'm knitting exactly. Because I'm not knitting to get it right every single time. I'm not knitting to always know what's coming and never be challenged. I'm not knitting to be the best (whatever that is) or impress anyone or for any other reason than to learn, and get better, and stay interested and be challenged. But it took some time, ya'll, it took some time. It took digging deep, it took a lot of peanuts, it took a UT victory, and it took apologizing to The Hubba who was fairly patient with me, to get to that point. Because for a while I was convinced I was stupid. No, not stupid, too dumb to be trusted with a light-bulb and a lamp, that's how I felt.

I realize most people reading this (that small, dedicated band) either don't knit or have been doing it so long you use one hand, blind-folded, while drinking heavily and never make the tiniest mistake. So really this part of our post is directed to other new knitters (anyone?), other people who have managed to knit together some impressive little projects and forget it all in the face of empty Addis and unused sock yarn or whatever your Achilles' heel might be. It was as close as I could get to being back in school and facing an algebra/geometry/biology/chemistry book and all of my very bright friends have mastered the project and moved on and I am sitting there, exhausted and empty, all the words on the page mushing into one thought: "I wish I was in English class."

Anyone have any thoughts on this subject? Anyone ever not felt up to par? Anyone ever not picked something up right off the bat? Any words of wisdom? Anyone else ever sat in a three and a half hour class with exactly what you came in with to show for it? Anyone? Anyone have any suggestions to send me back into next week's follow-up class?

Here's how I've motivated myself thus far, Positive Encouragement for the Knitter by the Knitter. I am new to knitting. I am trying. Every new skill takes time to learn. I am moving at my own pace, no one else's. This was a big project to take on, and I'll go back next week even if this:



is still all I have to show.

And there's always double pointed needles.

16-13

"Rocky Top you'll always be
Home sweet home to me
Good ol' Rocky Top
Rocky Top Tennessee,
Rocky Top Tennessee" Tennessee Fight Song

Vols beat Bama.

As Yooou Wiiiish

"The best way to predict the future is to create it." Peter Drucker

Today I am grateful for (in absolutely no particular order):

Colds that don’t keep you up at night, but do leave your voice sounding faintly throaty and mature, a little like a younger Kathleen Turner (in fact I took advantage of this and re-recorded our machine’s outgoing message so I sound grown-up, albeit a little depressed, but NOT the squeaky chipmunk I hear whenever I check our messages and hear my greeting).

Friends who invite me over to spend an afternoon knitting and chatting, like Miz Knotty and I did yesterday, while Miss Knotty had her nap (you must, you must, you must check out her site to see the gorgeous Miss Knotty suited up for Halloween).

Friends who want to catch-up on the phone for an hour and a half, like Knitty Yoda, while Little Boo was at his pre-school, and I did yesterday morning, talking about a lot of not important to most people that’s important to us (run, do not walk, to see Little Boo with his newest Knitty Yoda creation).

Friends who send emails when they hear a song that makes them think of you, like Kelly did yesterday afternoon when she heard a DMB tune.

Friends who don’t give up on talking to you, even when they have to call two or three times to your one return call, like Kristie patiently does.

Husbands who come home from work and, though there are things he would love to do like watch a little Sports Center or a movie or just relax, (still wearing his tie!) sit down and help you work out the website you are trying to create for your yarn store and spend an hour on the phone with customer service and even after dinner return back upstairs to help you finish. Without ever being asked.

Parents who send you kind emails on your blog specifically and your writing generally about how good they both are (even when you, most of the time, are certain everyone else is doing the exact same thing as you, only better), like Mum Knitter did last night.

Parents who call just for a chat like Pops Knitter does all the time.

Parents, who even though they don't comment, you know check your blog every single day, probably twice, like Suz Knitter.

Dogs who behave as well as they can whenever you leave the house, as our dogs do all the time.

Yarn that can always be unknit and redone and will always forgive you no matter how many times you frog it (though sometimes it asks you to wet it down and stretch it out to get all the kinks out).

Great movies that give you a title for the day.

Time in the morning to sit down and record what a really, really nice life I have.

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

Not a lot of knitting to report, due mainly to my hideously annoying, "one project at a time" attitude. The HP scarf is still on the needles, and finally going along smoothly (oh, I hope, I hope!).



I'm working on Christmas gifts right now. Finished an entire project yesterday through determination and listening to Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix on CD. I can't be too specific here, but things got funny (weird funny, not haha) and I'm going to frog most of it. I'm telling you, if I didn't love to knit, it'd drive me to drink. Wait, what's that...



Oh well. Never mind.

I have a Magic Loop Sock class coming up, taught by none other than the the great Yoda. She suggested, due to nerves, (even Jedis have nerves, ya'll) she'd like to do a test-run class with me. At which I bit back my "Yes, please!" and shrugged nonchalantly and said, "if you think you need it." Such a pretense. I want to start my socks badly, I can practically taste the cotton-acrylic blend.



I woke up Monday morning, ready to schedule a test-run and get my hands on some size-2 Addis. Instead I was horrified to discover Knitty Yoda's husband (I'm tempted to call him Mr. Vader) assured her she is a great knitter who needs no practice, who is a natural teacher, and she shouldn't worry and now- blast him!- I just have to wait for Saturday like the rest of them ("them" being all the people Knitty Yoda did not offer to teach Magic Loop five days early). Score one for Thoughtful Husbands, none for Desperate Knitters.

So I'm a bit knitting stumped right now. What else, what else... er, how about this weather? At the moment it's raining constantly so The Hubba and I are on constant Wet Paw Alert. The dogs are getting nervous.



I think they want me to find a new knitting project. Immediately.

I Am Victorious, Part Two

"Success didn't spoil me, I've always been insufferable." Fran Lebowitz

First, might I say: GO AUBURN! TIGERS ROCK! If you're a fan of the SEC you already know why I'm writing this and if not, I'm sure you couldn't care less. So I won't attempt an explanation, but I'd like to send a great big shout-out to Miz Knotty and her War-Eagle.

UT was off this weekend, but The Hubba and I made up for the lack with the Auburn game. You might have heard us yelling. I'm convinced our neighbors think we're crazy. Or else have a regularly scheduled Saturday night fight where we shout things like "Are you kidding me?" "Throw the flag, ref!" and "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

Second big news of the weekend:




They're finished! Not blocked, but, of course, I'm already wearing them. I expected to feel a little more Debbie Gibson/Michael Jackson/Madonna circa 1988 with them on, with urges to put my hair in a side ponytail, find some acid-wash jeans, and purchase a pair of shoulder pads. None of the above happened, but I do feel a few early nineteenth century stirrings, including the desire to speak in a mediocre English accent and have The Hubba bow a lot and kiss my hand.

Glad they're done though. Not only are they useful, I am now an expert (or at least semi-competent) at how to: a) do cables, b) do a picot bind-off and c) pick-up stitches. I admit I'm not crazy about the Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Chunky (not the Cashmerino Aran the pattern called for) I used, as it picks up fuzzies and dog hair like crazy, but they're awfully soft. Durability will be the true test.

And a question to my fellow knitters out there: how should I block these? The pattern says "block lightly" which reminds me of recipes that recommend a dash or a sprinkle. Pretty vague stuff. Any thoughts would be appreciated. Otherwise I'll end up chucking them in the dryer, probably on high heat.

Turns out not where but who you're with that really matters

"See, you and me
Have a better time than most can dream
Have it better than the best
And so can pull on through
Whatever tears at us
Whatever holds us down
And if nothing can be done
We'll make the best of what's around."
Dave Matthews Band, The Best of What's Around

Four years ago today, he became The Hubba and I became The Wifa. A great, great day in the history of the Knitter family.

It's Just a Little Off

"I not only use all the brains that I have, but all that I can borrow." Woodrow Wilson

Life is Not Right here at the Knitter household.




I can think of no reasonable excuse to give The Hubba over our table's lack of usability except to say the yarn has taken over the household. He will point out we have four other chairs we could sit in and I will have to pull My Crazies out of hiding and explain that no one can eat at the table for fear something might spill on the yarn. Yes, I know there's a good size distance between the opposite ends of the table, but what if...? So I'm not taking any chances. (To any non-knitters- ahem, Parental Knitters & Co- the yarn around the chairs isn't actually My Crazies, its stretching out the kinks in my pre-knitted up HP scarf yarn). So the yarn stays and we will balance our plates (it's taco night, I'm afraid, how terribly inconvenient) on our knees, on our sofa. Because I could go on if salsa spilled on the couch, but I cannot say the same for the yarn.

Upside to All This Off-ness: If the CIA ever needs someone for a vital Typing-Up-the-Bad-Sorts-Mission, I'll be ready for action.

So. Not Quite as Planned...

"Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm." Winston Churchill

Knitting news... hmm...

Remember this?


It was going along brilliantly until we ran into a teeny-tiny problem.

Well. Now it looks like this:




And do you recall those gloves? Right. Well, they've gone great. I mean, truly, I've loved doing the cables, the yarn is pretty lush to work with, and this is a project I'm sure I'll put to good use.

Except... for the slight disparity in this line, from the pattern, "The cool thing about these gloves is that you only need one skein to make a pair" and this:



the amount of yarn I have left over after nearly (nearly mind you) finishing the first glove, making slightly larger gloves than expected. Think less Frodo and more Shaq. Anyway, that looks like it's getting frogged and re-done on a pair of size 6 DPNs. I ask you, what's the point of all this gauge blah-blah-blah if it still comes out WRONG?

And as I hope to avoid becoming a knitter with half-finished projects everywhere, I've decided not to start anything new until I finish the gloves. No matter how much I can't wait to start this I shall refrain.

So don't you worry about ole' Neighbor, she won't be starring in "Knitter Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" anytime soon (even if she IS referring to herself in the third person). I'll hang in there. It's what we knitters do, right? A project doesn't go exactly as planned and yet we don't give up. If at first you don't succeed, frog, frog again that's my motto.

And in our Off the Needles News. The Hubba and I happen to have an anniversary coming up and, though he tries to be secretive, I think I've wormed out the truth. Now, don't say anything to him, but I'm betting this is my present. The timing's just too close. I can't imagine another explanation, can you?

Dog Day Afternoon

"“When I played pro football, I never set out to hurt anyone deliberately - unless it was, you know, important, like a league game or something." Dick Butkus, The Hubba's Hero

Georgie when she first woke up this morning:



Georgie after she had her morning kibble and remembered today's Big Game:




She is such a Daddy's Dog.

All My Friends Are the Bull-Riders

"If you ever start feeling like you have the goofiest, craziest, most dysfunctional family in the world, all you have to do is go to a state fair. Because five minutes at the fair, you'll be going, 'you know, we're alright. We are dang near royalty.'" Jeff Foxworthy

Successful knitting has occurred! I actually DID finish my Mystery Dishcloth in time with the group, and here is the shot:



Supposedly, it's a cat.

Also, thoroughly enjoying those gloves from Knitty. This is my first time trying cables and it's going awfully well, I think (until I see Knitty Yoda and she makes that kindly face and points out what I've done isn't cabling, there isn't even a name for it in knitting, and the only solution is a little thing we like to call frogging. And then Miz Knotty, shaking quietly with laughter I think, pats me on the back).

Made a strange Knitting Discovery on Wednesday, after spending the day at a hospital while my friend had "a procedure" (which I believe is the new P.C. lingo for "scary-as-all-get-out surgery"). First, she is FINE, ya'll, she is JUST FINE and we are all thrilled to pieces and I will probably sound extra-Southern in talking about her because I get Southern when I'm emotional and she is one of my favorite, full-stop. She's not blood, but she's like family, and she's good people, the best people, and I think anyone born south of the Mason-Dixon line knows exactly what I am talking about. Showing her roots, the best moment of the day occurred when ANOTHER nurse came in to tell Betsy her procedure had been pushed back ANOTHER 30 minutes and for a moment we all thought Betsy might rise from the bed, disregarding IVs, and heart monitors and the loopy drugs they had her on, and start snatchin' people bald-headed. It did not happen, but if they'd messed with her one more time, I'm certain she would have started channeling Scarlett and had a come-to-Jesus with many hospital staff that day.

Point is, while we waited at the hospital, I realized it is now nearly impossible for me to sit still empty-handed. I did my swatch to check my gauge for those fingerless gloves (Knitty Yoda is wiping away tears of pride) and that took about an hour, with me knitting and talking, and unraveling and starting over until I got it. And then I had- nothing. I didn't Knit-Plan the night before, because if I had I would have frogged the whole HP scarf and started that over. I couldn't start the gloves because I didn't want to play about with the cables yet and I couldn't work on the Mystery Dishcloth because I didn't have the day's directions and so- I got some cotton yarn and a pair of size eight Clovers and started doing the border to a dishcloth I've not tried yet. I didn't plan to finish it, I just needed to work on something.

I think I've officially crossed over to the otherside.

On to Off the Needles News.

So for those of you who wanted to see the pics (and I must say- for my little site- even if Knitty Yoda voted twice- that was quite a turn-out!) I'm posting them below. HOWEVER. They are not, exactly, as funny as first advertised. Since Ansel wasn't behind the camera but on the bull that left the photo-taking to someone else. So. In my mind, when I snapped the shot, you could Clearly see the bull. Of course, at the time my mind was a bit turned around from a Kendall/Jager/Bud combination.* While, to me, there is a big, crazed mechanical creature under The Hubba, to you, it might look like a very sad man having a very good time waving his arms around in the air and laughing, while waiting for some kindly orderlies to come put him back in his open-back gown and lead him to a nice game of shuffleboard. Trust me, there's a big fake bull under him.






That last shot, I was clearly compelled to get of him having been thrown off the bull and laying on the squishy mat. Can't explain it, ya'll, again I refer you to the Kendall/Jager/Bud combination.* Still. Doesn't he look happy? Even if it did last only four or so seconds and he limped for two days straight after.

*Must interject, I am STILL talking about the same night. I swear. The Hubba and I aren't actually raging alcoholics, this was STILL his 30th birthday evening. I realize some poor person will randomly get on this blog a few times, catch this series of posts, and say snidely to himself/herself, "Maybe she should call it 'Neighbordrinker', hahaha. Or 'I'll-soon-be-in-private-meetings-Knitter' yukyukyuk." I understand where this comes from, when I still worked in restaurants, I caught the tale-end of a story where the guy said "And then I woke up in my car" and then I heard him tell it twice more in the next two days. He tried to convince me it was the same night, but it didn't matter, from then on, to me, he was always, "Adam-and-then-I-woke-up-in-my-car." Anyway. Same night, folks.

Get Your Yarn On

"I don't think necessity is the mother of invention - invention, in my opinion, arises directly from idleness, possibly also from laziness. To save oneself trouble." Agatha Christie

Finally a little Knews about Knitting.

I think we're going to need a drumroll to start, please. Bum-bum-bah-buuuuummm... Or is that the sound the horns make in cartoons when the king walks into the crowd? Either way, may I present...



Real and in living color. I was so proud of these babies I wore them all day at the yarn store yesterday no matter how hot my feet got.

With the socks finished and not being a knitter with eight others on my needles to turn to, I've had to strike out and find new projects. Which are as follows:


My Mystery Dishcloth KAL, which for once, I'm finally knitting in time with the group. My luck, thus far, with their Two-Surprise-Patterns-A-Month has not been ideal. I joined in June? July? and I've finished exactly one of their projects I believe. Projects started? Seven or eight dozen. I don't care if the math doesn't add up, that's what it feels like. Yet something always happened- a dropped stitch, a mangled pattern due to a a tendency to watch "House" while knitting said project (eyes to pattern on laptop, eyes to Hugh Laurie's face, few minutes thinking "Gar, he's cute," few more moments thinking "Wonder why he uses an American accent?", back to the laptop, "line, um, nine, was it?", back to Hugh Laurie, "Faaw, he's cute" and repeat until a truly wrecked pattern emerges- maybe I will finish a cloth one of these days and then send in the pattern as the "Hugh Laurie's adorable even without the British accent" pattern), a few days where I get behind then see the finished project and say "that's boring" and rip it out. Point is, and I realize we're pretty far from it at the moment, this dishcloth is sailing along and even a few moments of "Studio 60" and Matthew Perry's precious self didn't distract me from Day Three's directions.

Also, these, which while I won't say what they will be or for whom, I will say this is some Christmas yarn, pre-Christmas gift knit:


It's hard to see how deliciously soft it is. I won't mention what kind, I'll leave it to you hardcore knitters to work out, but isn't the color too Grape Ape-ish?

Finally, what I'm really excited about and might even start today as time permits, these from the Knitty Summer issue. (A brief word on Knitty- I didn't notice this when I saved their page in my Bookmarks back in spring, but it actually saved the homepage for the Spring Issue. Which nearly drove me crazy because I would get on other knitters' blogs and read about new Knitty projects they were doing from the Knitty Summer Issue and in near tears I would cry "What SUMMER ISSUE?" Only when I logged on to Knitty from a foreign, i.e. one not in my home, not a computer in another country, did I discover the Knitty Fall Issue and realize I needed to peruse the old issues and found the Summer Issue. Point is, not that user-friendly, People who Manage Knitty!) Anyway. I'll be using this yarn and these needles:

and trying cables for the first time. Awfully exciting.

Ta-DAH! There's my yarn news. And at some point, hopefully, this non-traveling weekend, I'll get my lazy, knittin' fingers up and figure out how to add Blogs I'm Reading, and KAL's I'm participating in (check out Knitty Yoda's Monster Along for October), and other such interesting news to the Sidebar of my blog. Mebbe.

And, by the by, if my tiny readership out there really wants to see some bull-riding pics of The Hubba, I'm gonna need a LOT more enthusiasm. At this point it seems only Knitty Yoda cares. So You-Who-Read- the four of you? three of you? Dad?- are gonna have to comment. Otherwise, I'm just emailing Yoda the pics and the rest of you will NEVER KNOW how funny a grown, 30-year-old, non-bull-riding man looks on a bucking mechanical beast. Though, you can probably guess, slightly intoxicated is one way to describe it.

Hubba, Hubba

"If you drink, don't drive. Don't even putt." Dean Martin

Now you know what a thing we make of birthdays here in this house. We tend towards the kind of celebrating normally reserved for Mardi Gras prior to Katrina New Orleans, only with less call for police and beads. And The Hubba's birthday was no different and involved a night in uptown Charlotte with really good friends from Raleigh, really good food (a place called McCormick & Schmick's- delicious!), and faaaar too many drinks. Which probably explains The Hubba and the mechanical bull. If there's a request for such footage, I might be tempted to post a pic or two, otherwise that incident stays in Charlotte. We'll see. He was very Eight Seconds/ My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys if any of those characters wore polo shirts and tennis shoes and were fueled by about a gallon of Jack Daniels (come to think of it they might have been- why else would you climb on a writhing, crazed, thousand-pound animal?). In case you were curious, The Hubba turned 30 this year and to prove it, limped pathetically from place to place Sunday morning post-bull ride. Good times.

How cute is he?

Now, I'm not going to go on, as the birthday is still in progress (today being the actual event) and so will post knitting-related material tomorrow.

Also, a Public Service Announcement to my Sockret Pal: I have finally adjusted my comments section to accept anonymous comments. Feel free to get in touch- no pressure! Scratch that, there's pressure! Pressure!