A few weeks ago I felt resigned to knitting little gifts because it seemed all I could manage with my knitmojo in apparent exile.

But now I feel happy to consider the realm of possibility here, in the land of little.  

With my job currently resembling a fat sweaty man that constantly butts into my personal dance space and steps on my toes, keeping it simple every way I can seems, well, necessary. 

The knitmojo has returned in terms of confidence to tackle bigger things, but I’d never get them finished.

Little gifts are just fine for now. 

I started a Skinny Scarf with Cascade Alpaca Lace in a beautiful charcoal gray.   This is stockinette - tiny stockinette with two strands, in the round à la Magic Loop - so it’s nice zombie knitting on planes without a pattern needed.  It’s the epitome of simple, but since this will be a gift for a 15-year-old, I think staying within the bounds of classic fashion will increase the likelihood of my idea of “cool” being greeted with a smile.

That said, I have a cute idea for adding a teenager-approved flourish once the knitting’s done.  We’ll see how it turns out.  Squeezer can take it or leave it if she doesn’t like it.

In other developments, I’m feeling a hankering for little lacy things. 

Not like a huge never-gonna-get-done shawl, but more like a little lightweight scarf.  I like the very creatively named Mohair Scarf, which I would size down for a kickier version, a smaller neck wrap. 

For this I picked up a beautiful pink skein of Rowan Kidsilk Haze after work yesterday.  It left me drooling over the other neighboring colors splayed on my LYS’s surprisingly well-stocked shelves.  I copped a feel of a few of them while the lady was ringing up my credit card and left it at that.

After poking around on Ravelry to see what else might catch my fancy, I landed on a couple of other cuties, pretty much still in the scarf vein.  I wanted something slightly bohemian for someone on my list:  not too fussy, but still feminine.  But not too fine or fragile, because that just isn’t her.  When I saw a pattern I liked with “hemp” in the title, my eyebrow raised - yep, that’s about the right speed.

It just so happens that the pattern is of the crochet persuasion.  At first I paused and said, “I’m a knitter. I knit.”  And then I decided it just looked like fun.  What the hey - I’ll crochet.  I’ve already been flirting with it.

Hemp’s alright, but I’m going for bamboo.  Gorgeous shade of red MeiMei on its way from eBay.  Yay for eBay.

I’m also looking at some fingerless mitts; one suitable for a very metro man and another more girly one - if I can be bothered to get around to these.  We shall see.

Considering my Raindrop Lace Socks have been on the needles for over a year, it may be unreasonable to assume that any of these things will escape the clutches of my Addi Turbos by Christmas.

And that’s twelve weeks from now.  Does that sound like a lot or a little? 

Either way, I better get cracking. 

Clacking.

Fifi by Kristeen Griffin-Grimes for French Girl Knits (download)
Size:  Small, with modifications
Yarn:  Rowan Calmer in Tree, 5.75 skeins (with lots of extra length - would have been less than 5 without it; see below)

More pics at my Ravelry post here.

Finished dimensions:

Bust = 29 inches around, unstretched, after blocking (pinned out to 32″)

Length = 27 inches (top of shoulder to bottom cast-off; longer than designed)

Widest part of neckline = 9 inches straight across at top (pinned out to 10″)

Modifications:

Sleeve length (from cap sleeves to short sleeves)

Torso length (from cropped to tuck-in-able)

Verdict:  Beautiful pattern, fun to follow, polished-looking result.  When knit with Calmer as suggested, the yarn works its magic to deliver the look that the pattern promises. 

There are a few corrections to check out, but nothing too extensive.  Not much else going on at the French Girl Knits website; best information is on Ravelry.

Only thing I would do differently is bump up a size.  I’m taking a less whiny approach to this topic than I did in my last post since I’ve decided it’s not as bad as I made it out to be.  The bust fits fairly well; the 29″ finished size as knit (32″ as pinned at blocking) stretches comfortably to hug my not-quite-B cups (~36″, over the sweater).

In choosing the size to knit, I decided to stay small because my boobs are, well, small.  Even though my frame, and therefore my abdomen, is not petite in circumference (mistake #1). 

I figured the clingy thing from boobs to waist was the whole point.  How could this be bad?  Sexy fit!  But I kind of forgot that clinging to unwanted curves is er, unwanted (mistake #2).

I had a little pout-fest halfway through the torso after trying it on and realizing that I didn’t look as svelte as I wanted to, and I had to put Fifi away where I couldn’t see her for a few days after that.

Then I decided that A) as knit, it’s an encouragement to get back to the gym, and B) probably, blocking will help.

Ultimately, upon trying on my FO again a few weeks after initial blocking (which didn’t help that much – alas, it’s cotton), I decided that wearing this with skirts will improve the look in the short term. 

I still have to suck in my gut, which was necessary for modeling here, but the waistline of the skirt is more forgiving since it can ride higher on the waist without looking dorky.   I have trouble with things that sit “just below the natural waist.”  See my rant on denim below.

On the yarn:  My advice to those weighing the cost of Calmer vs. a substitute is to wait for the Calmer - wait for those sales.  It’s worth it. 

Blocking: I stretched this a lot in the boob/abdomen area and did some shaping around the neckline and shoulders. You can see that the mid-to-lower torso pattern with 2×2 ribbing does stretch appreciably with the added touch of microfiber twisted into the cotton. Not enough stretch in my case, as we’ve already covered, but once I get rid of the extra flab it should – in theory – have a slimming effort.

Length:  I know, I know, it looks like a tunic on the blocking board.  Why so long?  Well, I’ll tell you.  My long torso combined with a sizeable booty require special needs when it comes to anything I might end up wearing with jeans.

Two things about jeans that don’t mix well with my body shape:

Denim – even stretch denim doesn’t stretch enough to hug this butt when I go to sit down.

Low-rise anything - High waisters aren’t exactly “in”, but with low-rise trousers, unfortunately I risk revealing more to the bleacher seats behind me than I bargained for, if you know what I mean.  I wear the low-rises anyway because I agree with Mother Fashion’s guidance on this (I’ve no desire to re-live junior high, thank you very much).  But.  You get the gist of my issue here.

As such, I decided that I wanted this sweater to be a tucker-inner so that I could wear it with jeans and sit down without constantly feeling around back there to see if I was giving the person seated behind me a little show.

As I said above - tuck-in or no tuck-in, after experimenting a bit, I’m happier wearing this with a skirt for now.

Sleeves: I added a couple of inches.  I don’t quite have the Michelle Obama arms I want yet, so cap sleeves don’t do me any favors. Not that short sleeves hide much more, but they do help the cause.

You can see below that the red yarn line was the point at which I began adding.  I threw in an increase on each side of the seam under the armpit every row for a few rows, then every other row for a few more, before knitting even for a bit until I was happy with the length.

Neckline:  I liked the way that some of the Ravelry FOs had a nice wide boat-necky ballet-like neckline, although I was puzzled by the way the neckline look varied widely (without declaration of modifications).  Maybe it’s just different body types (shoulder width and length from top of shoulder to bust).

Because I was too lazy to modify via increased cast-on stitches, I simply cast on very, very loosely and let the initial row stretch out a bit more than as written.  It might have added a bit of width between bra straps, but nothing dramatic.  The edge looks smooth, anyway, and I’m happy with it.

And, that’s all I’ve got on Feefers.  Highly recommended.

Even if it ends up a size or three too small for your body size.

[scurries off to gym, a trail of variegated burgundy sock yarn in her wake]

Mostly I blame being slapped upside the head at work lately, but I did take a vacation in there somewhere, so at least part of my absence is due to something good. 

Yes, vacation.  My family’s lake cottage is my favorite place to be.  Usually it’s crazy busy with boats zipping around with skiiers, and usually I’m not up at sunrise, but I managed to grab this shot on the morning we left.  Peace, man.

But.  This is a knitting blog.  There’s no denying I’m way behind here.

Feefers is long since done; will post her FO shortly. 

I don’t have much else to show for my time, knitting-wise.

It’s fair to say I entered a bit of a slump when I finished Fifi, mostly due to a misestimation of the collection of flab I’ve been building. 

Fifi fits like a glove that’s a couple sizes too small after accidentally getting dropped in the hot cycle. 

I saw it coming as I was knitting, but I decided to forge ahead (motivation to work on that spare tire around the waist!).

But basically, my dear Fifi makes me feel like Two-Ton Tessie, so I can’t wear her for a little while unless everything below the boobs is obscured by a suit jacket.  It’s not horrific, just disappointing, because she’s so pretty. 

Photos with me sucking in my gut as much as possible will be posted all too soon.

[Note to self:  my bust size = small; the rest of my abdomen = not small.  Remember this.  Make adjustments.]

So  - my knitting ego took a blow in my apparent inability to judge my own girth, and I downgraded my aspirations from making another summer thing or two to acknowledging I might as well crack into Christmas gifts.  Seriously.  I mean it this time.

And I’m sticking to things like mittens that are hard to screw-up size-wise so as to avoid making someone feel fat.

That said, my remaining WIP is still hanging around like a bad rash.  I’ve spent a random smattering of minutes furthering my efforts to close out the pair of socks that have been on my needles for…oh, a year.  

Those poor Raindrop Lace Socks. 

Maybe they’ll wiggle their way off to make it under the tree in December.

My big ambitious project now is a blanket..but not a real one (I’m done with those for a while).  It’s a 8×10-inch mini-me version for Maizy’s doll called Baby, who, strangely, is approximately the size of a baby. 

Yes, this means it’s basically an over-grown swatch, but such is the nature of my knitting motivation. 

She requested one a couple of months ago after realizing she got the short end of the gift stick when her baby sister was born. 

The new kid received fresh-off-the-needles knitlove and Maizy got squat from her visiting auntie. 

Not to be duped, she draped said sister’s Summer Baby Blanket around herself and pranced around the living room - nude as a bee - twirling and striking poses for her adoring audience.  She garnered as much attention as possible before putting her clothes back on and shifting into What I Need You To Knit ME mode, starting with a blanket for her Baby.

She rallied for about six other things, too, and I took copious notes, but an 8 by 10-inch swatch is about all I can handle.  Sorry Maiz.

Here’s a photo of my impressive work:

No Babies in sight, so a pepper grinder filled in as the stunt double.

I’ll rebound, I know.  I think I feel guilty for getting behind on all of my blog-reading, too…all my friends are moving on without me! 

Knitting mojo - I command you to return.

Pretty please.

I’m going to try to blame this on the whole Michael Jackson thing.  It took a good long while to peel my eyes off of the media coverage, as extensive as it’s been.  I think I was overcompensating because when the news first hit I was too busy and far away from a TV to immediately soothe myself with The Making of Thriller on loop for hours on CNN. 

Everybody else was getting their MJ fix with funky Motown compilations of Little Michael singing his way into Weird Michael, and poor me, I was left to suffer in silence, stuck in yucky meetings.

Well, I made up for it by subsequently planting myself in front of the telly with my dancing shoes on.  My knitting took the blow into the backseat.

Does that excuse fly?

A few parting words on MJ, because really, it does suck that he died.  I know he’d turned indisputably wacko and all, but still.

All I could think of last week was dancing with Sissy B in our Flashdance outfits on the shag carpet in the basement, rewinding and forwarding the Thriller cassette a few hundred times to get Billie Jean and Beat It to play ad nauseam. 

Those dance routines were in tip-top shape for our stage debut in front of Dad’s video camera.  I think I’ve mentioned this before.  I fell down a few times.

Not ready to post that clip yet.

Anyhoo.  Farewell, Michael.  Object of my teenage affection.  Source of my delight on the big Grammy night.  Enabler whenever and wherever I want to Blame It on the Boogie, from now until I just can’t boogie no more.

In the absence of knitting news, I did want to make mention of a little gem I discovered in the way of yummy treats.

Allison over at The Whole Ball of Yarn(s) is open for business with Lilah Bug Bakes.  She’s the kind of person who comes up with recipes for things like Mojito Truffles, so you can understand why this chickadee has my attention.

Holy Yummy. 

Check her out.   Totally bookmark-worthy.

Upon learning about her store (after months of drool-inducing evidence of prowess in the kitchen had mounted on her blog), I scurried on over to her website to see what she had on offer. 

And then I ordered. 

Oh, the goodness she delivers with fresh-picked berries and the occasional irresistible twist (chocolate! amaretto! ginger! wine!).

When I received my package after ordering, I tore into the box to find two jars of Agave-Sweetened Strawberry Vanilla Jam and a jar of Bittersweet Chocolate-Pear Sauce.  There was some Pear With Caramel, Lavender, and Vanilla Sauce in there, too.

I went a little overboard in my initial sampling of each.

It started out innocently enough.  I thought I’d have a tasting party.  Um, a party for one:  these were my own sneaky treats.  I opened them when no one else was home to bust me. 

I tried the Strawberry-Vanilla Jam on bread, on bread with butter, and on bread with peanut butter (so it goes, right?).  But then I cracked open the Chocolate-Pear Sauce and drizzled it on vanilla Häagen-Dazs that I went out especially to buy.  Hey, the sauce needed a suitable partner.

Then, a few hours and a Corona or two later, I waddled to the freezer for another scoop of ice cream (”Those containers need to be bigger,” says my tummy; “Noooooo!” says my waistline).  This time I put the Chocolate-Pear AND the Strawberry-Vanilla on top.  OK, and a tiny dollop of peanut butter, since it was already out.

What a little piggy!  Oh well, we all need a bit of excess now and then.  (Wait, can there be only a bit of excess? or does it have to be a lot of excess? or maybe just plain excess?) 

On a healthier note, my proto-garden is still taking baby steps.  Any forward progress I consider a victory.

The tomatoes didn’t take the first time so I had to re-plant the seeds when they didn’t show signs of life after two weeks.

The one plant in front has been flaunting its comparative girth in front of its tiny backup dancers. 

I’ll transplant a few of them now that they’re growing (note that this is well outside any gardening skills I even pretend to possess) to give them all a little more room to accommodate the fatty in front.

The beans took off running from the beginning, so they’re considerably ahead.

Let’s see if these guys can hold my attention long enough for me to notice if and/or when they actually bear fruit.

Bear veggies.

But technically the tomato…really fruit…right?  Whatever. Something’s growing.

That crochet border can be as feminine as it darn well wants to be.

Three girls for Sissy B now.  Boys are nice and all, but back in the day, my two sisters plus me made a total of three, so this feels about right.  No boys allowed in the treehouse.

Everyone is happy and healthy and hopped up on the promise of sleep deprivation.  All is right in the world.

Let’s get ready to rumble with a rundown on this Summer Baby Blanket.

First – I do realize it’s a simple blanket pattern and there’s not a whole lot to write up here…but I’m a big writer-up-er, as you know.  Partly because I like to blab on about things (hence the blog); moreover because it takes me so long to get things done that it seems each FO should be fawned over.

Pattern: 
Summer Baby Blanket, free pattern here (all in Japanese, but you only need the chart download)

Yarn:  Blue Sky Alpacas, Skinny cotton

Needle:  US 6 / 4.0 mm, circulars

Dimensions:  43”H x 40”W (blocked)

Overall – yes, I like the look of this blanket very much.  The pattern isn’t tough - very easy by heart with six rows of repeat - but for some reason it just looks cool to me. 

The blanket might look lacy, but I don’t see it as lacy.  The Skinny yarn isn’t really that skinny (5 st/in on size US 6, bigger needle than recommended) so the plump stitches create the kind of texture that makes the pattern pop up.  I like the way the each column of three knit stitches stands out between the purls, a neat double-decrease twist that comes up to meet each flower before tucking under. (And yes, I can call it a flower now.  A girly-looking one.)

Either side could be considered right-side, but for me it’s the side with predominantly purls.  Wrong-side shown facing up in the photo below.

It ended up wider and longer than I anticipated (I blocked it firmly in the end, on purpose), but bigger is usually better in my opinion.  All the more room for spreading out and (eventually) rolling around.  I like that it’s a touch longer than wide, as this is the way my eye likes my blankets.

I’ve been trumpeting on about the crochet border, and really this was the cherry on top for me.  It was fun to make and I like the finished look. 

I used this site to coax me along with videos of crochet stitch instruction, including a little reminder education on the chart symbols.

Even though as a crochet novice I had my share of screw-ups along the way, everything panned out with a little patience for the occasional rip-out and re-do (inserting a beer in between did help).

Because I’m weird, I tend to be frightened of color combos in knitting (both with multiple solids and variegation – what if my stripes end up looking stupid? what if people roll their eyes and say, “who puts those two colors together?), but I went out on a crazy ledge here, and I do like the sagey-green Pear color against the natural tone of the border.  I think it works.

My only beef with this project is the fiber I chose, really.

I do like the yarn, but I don’t love it. 

Very splitty.  Very. 

Not that it wasn’t manageable, just annoying on a fairly frequent basis.  You can see here that there are a lot of plies involved and my heavens, do they ever like to separate whilst one knits.  Like a bunch of strings.

The finished fabric is softish, but not dreamy.  Not like the slightly heftier (yet not bulky) cotton from Blue Sky Alpacas that I used for Curlicue (this cotton was much softer, and with plies that stayed together, mind you).  It seems counterintuitive to me that Mr. Skinny is heartier than Mr. Only A Bit Bulkier from this manufacturer.  In the end, though, hearty is good: this increases the durability, which is what I was shooting for – something that will take a good beating and wear well over time.

All of that said – now that this puppy is finished and blocked, the afore-dinged yarn and I are getting along better.  It’s got a nice drape, and the fabric isn’t too heavy for summer.  And I think it will soften up a whole lot with a couple of good machine washes and a nice slug of Downy.  Part of the draw was that this cotton can go straight into the wash (and the blanket’s big enough that there can be plenty of shrinkage and it will still be big).

Pattern-wise, well, I made a few adjustments, even though it doesn’t seem like this would be that critical for a blanket (uh, knit it as wide as you want, and then stop knitting when it’s long enough, duh).

The number of stitches repeating in the main blanket pattern is different than the number repeating in the border, so it seems they should both divide in to the same multiple (assuming you want them to meet up and play nice at the corners).  With that in mind, the recommended number of stitches for the width and height seemed off to me.

But.  That may be because I was guessing as to what was actually recommended.

The only numbers in the pattern were wedged in between Japanese characters, so I kind of assumed that these particular numbers corresponded to the number of total stitches.  It’s true that my lack of Japanese fluency may have led me astray here.

Anyhoo, I did a back-of-the-envelope calculation (OK – I did a spreadsheet, because I’m a nerd) to come up with a stitch count that had the proper multiple.

• The pattern suggests 163 across; I cast on 155.
• Where the pattern came in at 194, I finished with 200 rows.

With these stitch counts, the repeated crochet border pattern overlaid with the blanket repeats very neatly.  Small changes, but they appeased the math beast and made me sleep better at night.

On the border: lovely as it is as written, I actually decided to nix the last of the outside rows.

There were quite a few (simple chain) stitches meant to trace the total surface area of the already-curvy border. 

Very pretty indeed, and I wanted to keep it, but there was just a little too much ruffle. 

I’ve got nothing against ruffles, but in the end it seemed A) too flouncy and B) too heavy in contrast to the airier look of the blanket. 

And I wanted it to block out flat, which it just wouldn’t have done with the last row in place.

If you want a pretty ruffle (seems more appropriate if you’re forging ahead with the feminine idea from the start), a lighter-weight yarn would rock that look.

Blocking:  even without that extra outside row, the border wanted to ruffle a bit length-wise, but this went away with blocking as desired. 

I got out the fancy blocking wires I was all excited about a few months ago and slid the longest straights down each side.  I could’ve used a boat-load of T-pins to achieve this, but don’t the wires make more sense?  The before and after pics make me proud of my blocking bling (and grateful for the quick work).

I opted for a gentle wash with my mild-mannered Eucalan prior to blocking.  Always a pleasure, that stuff.  For some reason, I feel quite fancy whipping it out of the closet.  I think I’m still chuffed that I’m no longer confounded by the likes of Woolite, the rarely-wielded luxury item whose function perplexed me as a child, looking up at Mom’s laundry shelf and wondering what the heck it was for. 

I have my own special soap now, tra la la.

The blocking was definitely needed as the blanket wanted to pull in width-wise before blocking, leaving the poor thing with that unkempt didn’t-check-myself-in-the-mirror-this-morning look.

This initially put me off when I checked the pre-blocking photos of others’ work before committing to this project, but since their blocked blankets looked nice and uniform, I trusted that mine would, too, after blocking.  And it did. 

After washing again, it could bunch back up, but really – who cares, for Pete’s sake. As long as it’s loved.

Well.

Looks like this is the end of the line for me and Summer Baby Blanket. 

It’s been fun, blankie, but it’s time for you to sally forth.

My brand spankin’ new niecie awaits, and she’s a fine little lady.  Keep her safe and warm.  Be her companion, her comfort,  her shelter when she needs you. 

Enjoy, pretty girl, and know that you’ll always be wrapped up in my love.

Her due date has passed, so she’s been left to wait patiently for el laboro.  And she’s not the only one.  Maizy and E-dot are all over this baby thing.

There’s no way in heckfire I’m posting the FO yet; it seems jinxy.  Good to have the gift done before baby is born, good to bestow soon after baby is born, which also seems a good time to post the FO.

In the mean time, I’ve had a couple of posts come and go in my head without actually posting them.  The most elaborate one involved a rant about being grumpy on an airplane; slightly peeved to find a bunch of colleagues boarding a plane to the same place I was going.  This was unfortunate because I suspected my plans to knit obsessively for several hours (and maybe even finish an elusive crochet border) could be thwarted by the need to appear more committed to productivity.

It was also unfortunate because I was caught unprepared in the Looking Professional department. 

I’d rolled out of bed and proceeded to the airport looking very greasy indeed.  No shower, so the hair was a bit wild; in fact, I don’t think I even brushed it.  Straight to the messy but functional ponytail.

And, I’m not quite sure my make-up remover from the night before had done the complete job; I seem to remember a bit of smudged eyeliner lingering near one eye.  It wasn’t a pretty sight.

Anyway, there I am, looking ship-shape for promotion in my I’m-sure-no-one-will-see-me travel outfit.

I really should have known they’d be on the same flight with me since there was a big conference happening, but sadly, this did not cross my mind when I arose at 6AM to head to the airport.  The scary thing is that this has happened before.  Recently.

I’m an idiot.

It’s not a huge problem, really, knitting on a plane in the presence of colleagues, but it’s true that I had work to do (yeah, like the kind they pay me for) and my laptop was right there.  So I was forced to abandon the productivity-eschewing ways of my D hook to do stupid work.

Until my battery ran out.

Well.

OK, it didn’t actually run out, per se, since I just got a new extended life battery (curses!), but it was plausible that it could have run out after two hours, especially when I shut it down and said (to whoever might hear), “Wow, this battery is really losing its mojo.”

Then I got my blankie out and powered through another row of the border.

I love the way the crochet turned out, but I’ll save that report for the FO post.  Suffice it to say that there were a few bumps in the road with this part, because I’m an idiot (see above) who reads directions, understands them completely, and then ignores them.  But more on that another time. 

It’s fun, the crocheting.  It’s a yarn hog, though.  I think I knew this before about crochet but had forgotten. It does make sense as there’s a lot of stitching before much is produced. Crochet fabric, made out of simple stitches, is definitely denser than the average stockinette.

I ran out of yarn about two-thirds of the way through the border; or at least what seemed like two-thirds of the way.

I couldn’t believe one skein didn’t do it. I mean, it’s a trim, right?

Point is, I needed to make an emergency run to get another skein.  I had to call six LYSes to find anyone even carrying Blue Sky Alpacas, let alone my Skinny Organic.  Love it.

As much as I complain about the quality of my LYSes (not even all local, but within a 30-mile radius), it was sad to learn in the course of these calls that two of the shops I’d visited before had closed since the last time I went a-calling.  I feel bad – even though it was, in all honesty, probably because they sucked that they closed.

Right, so Summer Baby Blanket - that’s where things are until that new baby comes out to receive it.

After the blanket was off the needles, on the last leg of my return trip home (I did shower before getting on that plane), Fifi, bless her heart, got a few more inches added to her.  She’s been so patient.  She just wants to be loved.  And I do love her.  She now has my full attention, and really, I should be able to knock this out over the weekend.  Should.

One more thing to share before I close.  Back on that flight from earlier (the one where I was stinky): after we’d all boarded and were more or less seated comfortably in our little rows and things had gotten nice and quiet, I hear a voice half-shouting half-singing, “Spank the monkey!”

“Ohhhhhhhh….spank the monkey!” 

The guy on the aisle in my row had piped up with these lyrics, which may have been coming from his own head (no iPod in sight).  I think it might have been Peter Gabriel’s “Shock the Monkey,” except with “spank” in there instead.

At first I thought he might have been trying to embarrass or entertain a friend traveling next to or near him. He got a few glances but I saw no takers in what might have been a little inside joke. One of the dudes in front of me craned around to have a look, but that was about it.  A fancy-pants I-showered-this-morning coworker also sitting in that row didn’t flinch, too professional-looking to be fazed by the oddity.

The freak show continued for a few more minutes, varying between singing, mumbling, and moaning. There were some hand gestures thrown in, too.

After the monkey-spanking, I couldn’t make out much of the song(s), but he was grooving over there to whatever it was.  I felt bad briefly because it occurred to me that this man might be mentally challenged or have Tourette’s or something (although I didn’t hear any swearing) and perhaps I really shouldn’t be laughing…but then he broke out of his reverie and starting maintaining a perfectly lucid conversation with the lady across the aisle.  Not in a we-know-each-other kind of way, but in a strange-weather-we’re-having-isn’t-it kind of way. Then he proceeded to fall asleep before take-off, and the weirdness was suspended.  He piped up again toward landing, and then smiled and nodded at everyone upon de-planing, as if he weren’t a weirdo.

Well.  I may play the role of Stinky on planes these days, but at least I don’t sing out loud and frighten my travel companions.  I don’t.

Pretty sure I don’t.

The appearance of Birch means it’s time to forge ahead to the questionably-gender-neutral-but-I-don’t-care-if-it’s-feminine crochet border.

I’m excited about the crochet bit.  I know I’ve mentioned this before.  Not that I’m thinking of switching teams or anything, because I think it’s fair to say I’m firmly rooted in Team Knit.

But.

Mom crocheted back in the day (she also went through a macramé phase in the early 80s, a fad that seemed to crash and burn as the cool thing to do shortly thereafter - at least in the hip happenings of the church craft circle).  She didn’t knit, so crochet is it in terms of my maternal influence in all things yarn.  Well, if you don’t count the little projects with snippets of yarn, Tacky Glue, and popsicle sticks, because that featured pretty heavily.

I’ve never more than dabbled in the single-needle hookiness of crochet, and in the few times I’ve tried it, it’s weird how vividly it brings to mind the smooth, repetitive movement of my mother’s hand, from my child’s view.  Not that weird, I guess, considering that when you’re a kid that’s what you do - watch your mom’s every move - but it’s cool to remember something that seems unuseful for the brain to store. 

The only time I ever crocheted with the intention of actually making something was for a little blanket in my university colors.  It was made out of scratchy acrylic, because A) that’s what I could afford, and B) I don’t think I knew that anyone bought yarn if it didn’t come from Jo-Ann’s.  Not that there’s anything wrong with Jo-Ann’s.  I just didn’t know.  Did. not. know what awaited outside the world of Jo-Ann’s.

But I digress.  I don’t think I even finished that blanket, which is understandable, considering I probably wouldn’t have used it unless it was sandwiched in-between two things appreciably softer.  It certainly wasn’t complicated:  I’m pretty sure it was entirely comprised of double-crochet stitches.  In two colors, though - hot stuff.

I think the Summer Blanket border will be pretty, based on the nice smorgasbord of stitches that are charted out on the pattern.  That and the proud-as-punch picture from the pattern that says, “Check me out, I look so awesome all finished.”

In planning ahead (a few minutes ago) by looking at my handy-dandy Ravelry needle chart (which took me a year to fill out, but I did it), I can see that I don’t have the crochet hook I need.  Um, not surprising considering that the only hooks I have (for weaving in ends) I bought in a little convenience pack.  F, H, I, J and K. 

Mr. G is suspiciously missing, so I might have lost him.  Who knows. 

Maybe he’s just less popular than the other kids and doesn’t get picked for the convenience packs.

So in Japan, where my designer originally slapped this border on the blanket, their millimeter-based sizes don’t always jive with the US lettering system.  Of course they used a 2.5-mm hook, which is between a B and a C.  Neither of which I have; guess I’ll round up and make this sucker with a C, 2.75 mm.

Come on, LYS - don’t let me down when I come knocking. I don’t want to drive all over creation.  Stock those crochet hooks.

Maybe I’ll go nuts and buy another convenience pack that has the rest of the elusive crochet needles I’m missing.  Maybe even Mr. G.

UPDATE:  LYS did not hook me up with the C.  The smallest they had was D, so for $1.95 and half a millimeter difference, I paid the lady and hustled out of there, slightly embarrassed to be popping in solely for crochet purposes.  I’ll give it a shot.  Scratch the itch for tonight.

Oh, and I saw Mr. G Hook.  There were plenty of him in stock, darn it.  Nobody wants to take him home. Poor little bugger.

Not that it’s some huge impressive project, or even that big of a surprise to at least one person reading this, but since it’s for a baby that’s not born yet, it seems worth putting a little drumroll to it, a nice sense of occasion.

Usually I wait until the kid makes an appearance, but ehhh.  Spill the beans.

So Sissy B is having another one; this’ll make three.  She’s already got plenty on her hands with my two little nieces, and this will spice up all 24 of her waking hours come June.  Not sure if this one’s a boy or girl as they’ve elected to wait to find out. 

At least that’s what they’ve told me.  It’s possible they are sneaking around giggling behind everyone’s backs, secretly knowing.

Maizy calls her little brother- or sister-to-be “Cellpho” (as in, yeah, get ready to dial), and she does this with some confidence, as if this common name has already won the contest for her sibling’s playground moniker.  Hence the blog name of this child is born, ahead of the physical debut.

Regardless of whether Cellpho is a girl or a boy, this kid is going to get a lot of girly influence, what with the two older sisters and all.  (It seems weird to call E-dot - pictured here: awwwwww - an older sister, since so far she’s been the little guy.  Girl.  You know.)

So is it weird that I always make blankets when it comes to baby gifts? 

I know it takes much longer than booties or a layette set, but I always think to myself:  if you’re going to knit something, then really knit something.  Something that the little bundle of joy won’t grow out of in five minutes. 

Sweaters for toddlers make more sense to me: you might get a good year out of that before it’s handed down.  But for a baby, a blanket seems like something they can really use (to the extent they can use anything, other than a breast).  They can lay around on it, drool on it, burp up on it (ah, the joy of machine-washable cotton), all for a good little while.  

Then, once they can walk, that blanket can be really used. 

Beat up.  Dragged around for a long time.  Colored on.

Loved.

But.  Am I boring?  Should I branch out?  Put a little more thought into it?  If you had a kid, what would you want to receive?

Too late now on this one - but your opinions would either pacify my concerns that I’m in a rut with baby creativity or spur me on to make interesting-er tiny things in the future.

On the color, as I believe I announced when I started this thing, we have Blue Sky Alpacas Skinny Dyed in Pear (yes, that’s another name for green, and I think this may have been the start of what Clumsy Knitter kindly called Greenmersion, rather than a Green Problem).  But this hue seemed a good bet for a maybeboymabyegirl baby.

Here’s a little preview.  The repeats bunch up a bit unless they’re nice and stretched: blocking will help this.  (Yes, that is my new red bedspread behind it.  Oh, glorious red.)

Now that I look at it (a lot, often), the lace pattern on my Summer Blanket (otherwise known as “24-25-48 Lace Baby Blanket“, which is the catchy name the Japanese designer gave it) does look a bit more feminine than not feminine.  I was shooting for neutral in the beginning.  But hey - even boy babies are all soft and pretty.  I think a daisy-like pattern will probably fly if indeed a penis makes an appearance.

And there is the aforementioned girly factor that will surround this child. 

Right, OK, stop worrying about the lace pattern.  Good thing, since I’m probably about 2/3 through on the length.

I think what sold me on this pattern is the cool crochet border.  Not everyone who made this (and reported back to Ravelry) followed through with the border, but for me the blanket is a bit lukewarm without it.  I’m not usually a crocheter, but I can hold my own, and this border is going to be spectacular.  I hope.

Feefers is chugging along in the few minutes I can find here and there to work on it.

More time lately on Summer Blanket, which tends to get done on planes, when for some reason the monotony doesn’t bother me as much.  And I don’t like hassling with patterns when other people’s elbows are already touching mine in a fight for the armrest.

So this is the state of affairs that leads me into the weekend.  At this point I’m craving quiet:  sweet, still, quiet laziness.

And some fries with that.

I know my Green Problem is likely to fade away before too long and be replaced by some other newfangled color, so it’ll be fun while it lasts.  I do have a history when it comes to such things.  Ah, who can forget Black (the New York and London years), Periwinkle (ever since I bought a suit jacket the exact Crayola color), and Red (intermittent, usually when I want to feel busy and important, à la Bridget Jones answering Daniel Cleaver’s phone calls)?

The Red Problem hits me hard when it comes to toenails.  For the life of me I can’t seem to commit to anything other than blood red, usually something named “Vixen” or “Not Just A Cocktail Waitress”.  Friends, sisters, nail technicians:  “Hmmm, where have I seen this before,” they say.  “Maybe…on your toes right now?” 

Well, at least I’m not putting green on my toes.  Yet.

In both knitting and green news, my Tree-colored Fifi is coming right on along. 

This was my first time using the cable cast-on and I loved the way it came out; such a nice smooth, pretty edge. 

I swear, knitting with Calmer makes me feel like I’m a better knitter than I am.  The slightly elastic version of the yarn keeps the stitches looking very uniform even as they’re flying off the needle.

It kind of feels like cheating, but I’m not going to stop.

That said, when I don’t spend more than 10 minutes knitting in a week, it tends to make that knitting-machine feeling grind to a halt.

Work has once again sucked the life out of me in the past two weeks, and I’m grateful to have a moment to connect with my computer that doesn’t have to do with a presentation or a deadline.

In the bit of knitting time I afforded myself this weekend, I went back to the Summer Baby Gift to knock out the remaining bit of my third skein so I could hook up the fourth and feel some progress.  Five skeins total will knock out the bulk of the project, and then I’ve got another skein of Skinny Organic for the trim.  No, I’m not ready to talk about the details of this little gem yet!  More when I’m in the home stretch.

Queue-wise, I’ve got a couple of other ideas brewing.  I’m targeting quick items that might be construed by some as summer garments, but could go the distance later in cooler months to be worn over blouses or layered under suits.  Case in point is Wendy Bernard’s Jewel, which is a pattern out of Custom Knits, a book I resisted buying until a few weeks ago when the Rav-generated Jewel craving started up.

Yes, OK, the picture in the pattern book shows the sweater in green - ha, ha, laugh all you want.

This may be reason I fancy it, since there’s not much to the design, really; simple enough that I probably wouldn’t need the pattern.  The variegation might be working its charm, even though I’m not easily wooed by variegation.  The drape of the tank with the silk fiber is nice - yeah, it’s probably the silk I like.  It’s shown in Regal Silk, but I’m not sure that’s what I’d choose.  I’ve never knit with silk, but given my recent brush with cashmere I’m feeling fancy.  Life’s too short.  And it’s not a huge sweater, just a little guy.

Probably the other reason I like it is because all of the projects in Wendy’s book are pictured on models that are ridiculously pretty and trim.  Note to self: phone is not ringing off hook with offers to model in knitting magazines.

So - grain of salt then, before purchasing yarn.

The other book I bought is another manifestation of my embarrassing cowl fetish.

Once again, I ran across a pattern that I probably don’t need in order to make the garment pictured, and once again, the influence of color is probably stoking my burning desire to look fabulous in it.  The pattern book is an older one from Adrienne Vittadinni, Fall 2004 (hard to find; I bought it here).  I like the pattern on the cover, but that’s not the one that sucked me in.

The red tank on the left has a removable cowl (kind of looks just like the cowl top on Sheer Poncho, eh?).  As knit in that to-die-for shade, the overall look is similar to a Target special I had a few years ago.  I wore it so much that they had to drag me away from it when the Goodwill truck came by to pick it up, lost among others in the well-loved-but-time-to-let-go pile.

The red sweater on the right illustrates the other neckline preference toward which a gravitate:  straight-line, boatneck-y type looks.  Not so much as to be off-the-shoulder, usually, but I like this look.  Again, not a complicated design that requires a pattern to figure out how to make, but this is how it works, right?  We look at patterns, we get inspired, we buy patterns.

There were a few other cute designs in this book, but it was this red-infused spread that got me. 

Ah, the very same red that is now covering my bed, since I caved and bought a (goregeous, wonderful) quilt in the same store as the aforementioned sheets this weekend (good to myself lately, huh?).  The sheets didn’t end up green, though (shocker!), since the quilt won first and I didn’t want to sleep in Christmas colors.

So maybe Green is losing its hold and really it’s my old friend Red that should keep me on my toes.  Toes!  Red nail polish!  Oh la la.

It’s true that the only fire I really know about at the moment is the flame on my blogiversary candle, but that’ll do.  It’s one year today since I started blogging here.  Happy #1 to me!

And I am in New England, finishing with my business travel and now attempting to unwind from my little coil of stress.

Let’s start with the good news: oh joy, I’ve not only selected my next project, but have managed to decide on and actually purchase the yarn to go with it.  This is big progress for me; at the rate I was obsessing over yarn colors I thought I’d never pull the trigger.

After my kill-me-now meetings ended this afternoon, I was out like a shot toward a surrogate East Coast LYS to get down to some business that was actually interesting.

I’ve decided to make Fifi (downloadable on Ravelry, pattern link) from French Girl Knits.  I just like the look of it - fairly sophisticated as a souped up tee but without too many frills that would keep it in the closet instead of on me this summer.  There’s a time for being practical in choosing projects that I’m supposed to eventually wear, sadly, since most of the time I’m dressed for work and not for play. 

That said, this little number does hug things nicely - yes, I mean in the boob area - so I think that’s a point in the sexy column.  Under a jacket it’ll be fine for work, and should I ever make it to a happy hour again, this will be one of those day-to-night pieces that are always getting featured in magazines like Cosmo (or so they tell me).

I’ve linked to A Little Loopy’s version, as I think hers is fabulous.  Just about all the Fifis on Ravelry look better than the hokey picture of French Girl’s official one on their website.

Given the Ravelry raving over Rowan Calmer, I decided not to sub the yarn but rather to knit it with reckless abandon as designed.  Apparently the soft and slightly stretchy-clinginess is to die for, honey.

So.  Then it came to color picking.

I guess the colorway selection for this fiber is nice enough, but it felt too pastelly for me, or if not too pastelly then too full of colors that just don’t work on the pale-shanks likes of me; I just can’t kick it with bright coral or yellow or turquoise.

After shooting many options down, I had left in contention the Garnet shade (492) and the Tree shade (500).  Those two I liked.  But oh, how to decide?

I hemmed and hawed over this for several days (Googling and Raveling images of Rowan colorways like a banshee, nearly making a decision, then not).  At times like these, common wisdom says to go to your LYS to actually see the colors with your own eyes.

Which I tried to do on Saturday. 

I started out with a glorious midday stroll with Bidie-In through the farmers’ market, where I saw this bike.  

Ah, another reason to love California.

After this, I meandered into the LYS nearby.  Not only did I receive aloof and slightly put-out service in response to a couple of inquiries, but I also got denied in the colorway department because they didn’t have the ones I wanted to see.  Poor selection, sloppy displays, and crappy attitude.  Great.

I exited stage left, harrumphing away like a petulant child until a glass of wine at the German pub down the street made the world right again.

The wine had sparkles in it, which made me even happier.  I know that really this is called sediment, but I told myself they were delicious minerals that made my wine nutritious.

Then this business trip came up.  And then the unexpected early finish today - aha! - an opportunity to try another store today.  I did the finger-walking thing first and after a few stores not picking up the phone in the middle of their business hours (hello? how do you expect to sell things if nobody’s bloody home?), I found one that not only answered the phone, but also had my Calmer in both colors that had made it through to the championship rounds.

So I went to shop.  And oh, did I drool!  What a lovely store:  A Good Yarn.  Super nice people, and the most impressive little collection of fibers I’ve seen in ages.  I lingered for over an hour - so decadent, but I did it…because I could.

Tree beat out Garnet, although it was a squeaker in the end.  I liked both finalists (both slightly less intense than they seemed online, which was good - part of my hesitation with both, based on pics, was too much saturation), but I’ve decided I need to knit more green things.  Tree was just the shade I wanted.

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d bite the bullet for full retail price when online discounts are just so rightthere; but, after hanging around like a rash for so long in the shop, my save-the-Local-Yarn-Store conscience kicked in.  A few bucks’ difference isn’t going to kill me, but my ten bucks more-than-I’d-pay-online plus a bunch of other people’s ten bucks more-than-they’d-pay-online could keep that store in business.

But only because it would be a shame if a store like this one weren’t in business.  I’ve been empathizing with Clumsy Knitter’s entertaining and well-written rants (here and here) over the poor quality of LYSes lately; I swear, some of them make it so difficult to love them.

I digress.

In the midst of my decision to buy, I came up a skein short.  The LYS lady (with the help of a few regulars who’d wandered in) rooted around in the back room trying to find one more skein of Tree in the same dye lot. 

Just when I thought my do-good LYS-loyal intentions would come to nothing, the girls came up with the goods.  And I whipped out the credit card.  It felt good.

Then I left, but came back because I realized a few blocks away (already in traffic) that I’d left my bluetooth headset thingy in there (it had fallen out of my purse because, like a dork, I’d left the purse unzipped while knocking it over, multiple times, all over the store; I kept setting it down to free my arms for full range of yarn-groping movement).

Then, I left the shop again, for serious. 

And then.

I got stuck in nightmare gridlock.  Not your average back-up, but indeed a parking lot, a log jam - call it what you will.  Many many cars going absolutely nowhere, with no alternative routes emerging.

Did I know, as they were ringing up my yarn,  that I was two blocks from Fenway when the Red Sox game ended and started spewing fans?

No I did not.

Ninety minutes and many honking horns later, I made it past those few clogged blocks just in time to enjoy - ahhhh, the normal rush hour traffic still remaining between me and my hotel.

Got my knickers in a right twist, but tried to enjoy the pretty sunset lighting as I watched free-swinging non-gridlocked people running along the water (much faster than I was moving) next to the fluttering white sails of little boats.  This scene was easy to observe in detail since I was sitting very still in my car, budging not an inch in any direction for long stretches of time. 

Sigh.

Did I mention I got some soft, beautiful, tree-green yarn today?  Before I can unwind any of it it, I’ll need a cocktail to finish off the unwinding of me.  Let me go on and do that.

I’ll raise a toast to my blog’s birthday while I’m at it.  Ooo, and maybe have some cake.