Shiny silver buttons
This cute cadet-style coat from Old Navy came with dull brass buttons that did nothing for it. See for yourself. I consulted a friend and M&J; Trimming (love them!) to find the perfect antique silver flower buttons. Color me happy because these little things turn the coat from blah to beautiful.
Expressing myself with color
And oh, what color! As mentioned previously, I’m taking an abstract art class with the goal of finding parts of myself I thought had left the building. The most recent assignment was to use the drip and splatter techniques of Jackson Pollock. The rest was up to us; how we used color, movement and layering to create with purpose. I know it’s not to everyone’s taste but I rather like it.
Finishing another hand knit
Pattern: Seed Stitch Cowl from VK Holiday 2009
Yarn: 75 yards of marigold dyed alpaca; 2 skeins of vintage Malabrigo; color unknown
Needles: Size 11US / 8 mm
The main difference between mine and the eye-popping green one in the magazine was the weight of the yarn. I doubled worsted weight to approximate the chunky yarn called for in the pattern. This resulted in a smaller cowl which I actually like better. It fits inside my coat and it’s equally useful as a layering piece over a sweater.
I also added the pale marigold alpaca as a carry yarn at the start and finish of the piece. If I hadn’t been so lazy, I’d have set up the tripod so you could see how perfectly this goes with the Leaf Beret. This is the second item I’ve finished in the space of a little over three weeks and, at the the risk of being immodest, I’m pretty proud of myself. To go from nothing to something and enjoying the trip? Happy-making!
Friends like you
Thanks for reminding me that words such as those some anonymous person used were just that: words and nothing more. Thanks for reminding me that I have people in my life who will tell me to move on, let go and forget the small stuff and small minds. Reminding me to remember who I am and am not.
 I’m the kind of boob who forgets to tell you that I finished the Leaf Beret over a week ago. It is lovely, wearable and an easy knit – especially for those like me re-entering the crafty atmosphere.
Pattern: Melissa LaBarre’s Leaf Beret
Yarn: One skein Louet Gems sportweight in Mustard colorway; 100 grams and 225 yards.
Modifications: None. The pattern is very clear, as written. Even the chart-averse will have no problem understanding the leaf motif.
It wasn’t my beloved marigold alpaca, but I did try to hold true to the pale color of the original yarn. I did end up using the alpaca as part of a cowl that can easily be paired with the beret. It’s in the seed stitch collar stage and should be ready by week’s end.
I am also the kind of boob who cares way too much about what some anonymous person had to say recently in a new comment to an old post from 2005:
“JC has left a new comment on your post “Ciao 2005, Bon Giorno 2006!“:
how about sticking to one language, you pretentious boob, preferably the native lanugage (sic) of the readersip (sic) you hope not to put off…”
Dictionary.com says:
pre⋅ten⋅tious –adjective
| 1. |
full of pretense or pretension. |
| 2. |
characterized by assumption of dignity or importance. |
| 3. |
making an exaggerated outward show; ostentatious. |
Studying the brain of the boob |
Please don’t confuse knowledge of more than one language as pretentiousness. This is simply a result of my environment and upbringing. I may be many things but feelings of self-importance are not part of my make-up. On the contrary, I’d rather ham it up and use self-directed humor to divert attention away from the “real me.” I will retreat to a corner before making an ostentatious show.
Like many people, I can be complex, intense, perceptive, impulsive and worried over the smallest things (like why I’ve lost a few readers or how to stop the cat from chewing my patterns). That may make me both perspicacious and paradoxical but never, ever a pretentious boob.
Sleek. Sexy. Chunky. Fun. Fabulous! These words are all appropriate when describing Vogue Knitting’s Holiday 2009 edition. Honestly, they had me at, “Cowl.”
 One of these beguiling beauties is just the thing for both gift-giving and stash-busting. Chunky yarns? I has it by the suitcase. Some might say I over-bought. Three hyphenates in four sentences. Too much?
Now, for a brief update on another knitting project: my little friend, the Leaf Beret. I feel like I’m in that commercial for the online genealogical search engine – I finished my first leaf! If you recall, my first attempt did not go well. I went with a Louet sportweight wool this time and the quickie fit checks prove satisfactory. I won’t go getting all excited, though. At least, not until that final decrease row. Then I’ll be all *happy* dancing, which, for that vision alone, is worth the price of admission.
There is mounting evidence that, while impersonating a certain moribundity, my creative bits ain’t dead yet. I started an abstract art class this week. There was an actual live, nude model. Even more, the artist teaching the class actually liked my interpretation of California Expressionism. Go figure.
For Samhain, Dia de los Muertos and Halloween
For familiars everywhere, whether orange or otherwise.
+ + + + +
See you on the “other side“
…of the weekend.
 It’s times like these when I feel like a rank amateur.
Indeed, I think it ironic that I’m starting to blossom just when the leaves are falling from the trees. Maybe my circadian rhythm or my satellite reset button. Is. Just. Off.
The Leaf Beret (Ravelry) from knit.1 is the first new thing I’ve started to knit or crochet since February 2009. Eight months is a long time to take a break from something that once caused a fever of “I’ve-gotta-make-this-this-and-this-itis.”
Truth is, anyone following my ramblings for some time knows the physical stuff has gotten in the way for the past three years off and on. There are more rumblings from the right arm of doom which I’ll share should it become necessary. Meanwhile, my personal journey has me knitting again, albeit making one or two rookie mistakes.
1) I love love love Vera’s marigold-dyed alpaca. I stick my beak in the center of that ball and take a whiff of the slightly soapy clean wooliness (you yarn sniffers know what I mean). My errors are not the fault of the yarn. I adore alpaca, though I know it’s not for everyone. For some reason, I forgot that this is not the most elastic of yarns.
2) I couldn’t find my size 3 needles, so I opted for the 2.5’s instead. To make up for the smaller needle, I cast on a few more stitches. You can see the next oops coming, can’t you?
3) Inelastic yarn + too many stitches = a hat band big enough for a monstrous melon. Frog and rethink.
Not only did I err in yarn choice, it seems my fingers have a little rust in their sense memory. I mean, I was once an old hand with two-circ knitting. I cast on half the stitches on one needle and the other half on the second needle. Knit knit knit. Get to the end of the round and all the flippin’ stitches are on one needle. I hate that!
Reboot.
It’s on, knitting! I will make that cute beret in time for the coming nasty weather. I will not go quietly. Well, mebbe a bit. It took so long to get here. My marigold leaf beret deserves to come to life.
 “doo-Doo-DEE! The number you have reached has been disconnected.”
I had to try. I didn’t trust my eyes as I passed by the corner where the store had recently been. It was dark. There was brown paper over the windows and it caused a lump of fear and sadness in my throat – like a friend had quietly passed away. Just like a death, I felt guilty because the last time I passed by the shop, I had a trunk full of groceries and figured I’d stop by another time. Turns out there was no “another time.”
I knew the owner of that shop – the only one located in my neck of the South Loop. Believe me when I tell you I did my best to be a one-woman wrecking crew back when I was actively knitting and acquiring yarn. I suppose it hurts to see her dream not last. She’s an intelligent, positive person so I have no doubt she’ll dust herself off and find some way to reinvent things to her liking.
Meanwhile, I get the feeling that many (predominantly) women who travel half the year from show to show or work feverishly in the basement, shop or studio to produce and sell competitively priced, high quality goods are suffering. Not because the goods are not worth it or that they’re not in touch with market demands. Unless you’re in the monied class or you have a rock solid job, the people I know are carefully assessing how each dollar is spent.
I’m curious if you’ve seen signs of struggle in this corner of the universe. What do you propose be done? Comment, talk among yourselves. I’m interested in your take on this.
Ceiling Cat.* First I see evidence of the long-secret plan unfolding over at Chris’ place. Now, Rocky has apparently received his marching orders.
 “Yes, overlord. She’s here but cannot comprehend.”
What’s a caretaker to do?
*apologies to anyone who may be offended. it’s humor. really. don’t tell the cats I said so.
Have I been trapped in a black hole? A time warp? A malfunctioning TARDIS? Who knows. What I can say is that I was absolutely astounded to see that I had not posted for over 2 months. In that time, The Poetry Society’s Knit a Poem project was completed, my home got a new look and I stopped in to see some crafty friends at Chicago’s annual YarnCon.
First up is the Knit a Poem project. It took over 1200 knitted and crocheted letters to spell out the then-secret work of Dylan Thomas’s ‘In my Craft or Sullen Art.’ How appropriate that the medium was the message in a way, as these letters and words connected in a 43 x 28 foot display at London’s British Library, highlighting the Society’s centennial year.
A coat or two of paint, a bit of caulk and new frames, fixtures and faucets equal a fresh perspective in five rooms of my humble hereabouts. I admit to unfettered, aww-gosh admiration for the results. Even while performing the most mundane of tasks (like brushing my teeth) I look up at the espresso-colored frame of the mirror and think, “That’s so cool!”
 Dark wood frame and oil rubbed bronze fixtures
Even a humble office deserves a facelift
Crisp white towels and new pewter towel bars
YarnCon began in 2007 ago as a way to, “promote, sell, and celebrate the yarny arts.” I made it to historic Pulaski Park Fieldhouse that first year but in the two years hence had fallen off the Chicago creative grid. Turns out I missed my peeps, so I got myself together and headed over to the event.
 Top: Natalia, co-founder of YarnCon; Lisa, the space and fade dye queen;
Bottom: Jen and Nate of Piddleloop; Lucky Penny Handmades.After dropping some coin on home front upgrades, I had no intention of buying one darn thing. It had, after all, been months since neither yarn nor patterns nor hooks, books or needles had been purchased. I puffed out my chest, finally immune from the lure. Or so I thought.
Let’s start on the left with Lisa M’s purple to berry goodness, yards of her special fade-dye (or is it space-dye?) blend of merino and tussah silk. Most cuddle-worthy and color intense. Moving to the bottom of the tableau you’ll find Vera’s handspun and marigold-dyed alpaca. Petting this pale yellow fiber and planting your nose in its midst tells the tale of the close-to-nature, low process yarn from a neighboring farm. Purely delicious.
I picked up Samantha Lyon’s feather and fan scarf pattern, Blink (Ravelry link) which would do justice to one of the many sock yarn skeins I already own. It has a flavor of LMKG Chevron but knits up pleasingly on the diagonal.
Could it be that big things do come in small packages? Witness the latest edition of Knitcircus magazine. I’d heard of, but never seen, Knitcircus in person. What drew me to it? Simple. I like the jacket on the cover. The Pinot Noir Bolero by Jaala Spiro looks like something that could be worn quite comfortably. The Ysolda Teague interview is another plus. The editor sat down with Ms. Teague during her recent swing through the Midwest. I’ll try to do an expanded review of the 11 patterns in the fall edition a bit later.
So does this mean I’m back? Dunno. Still one day at a time, friends. I admit to missing the vibe, the fiber and thou. This could be a good sign.
Your needles move me.
Secret poem, coming alive
One letter apiece. – Karen B.
Thanks to Mason-Dixon Knitting, I came across The Poetry Society’s “Knit a Poem” project. According to the site, letters are being knit and crocheted by hundreds of hands, with the hope of being assembled into a still-secret poem by October 2009.
They apparently have an urgent need for F, M and U and are still recruiting participants. Kind of interesting, no?
 “The blues had a baby, and they named it rock n’ roll,” sang the legendary Muddy Waters, and boy, is that child still wailing!
Just ask the cargo shorts boys, the gray-beards and babies and tattooed ladies who came out en masse for Lollapalooza 2009 in Chicago’s Grant Park.
I had reservations as the date approached. For one, the hellish humid 90’s descended just in time for the 3-day festival. For another, I have this thing about really large crowds.
Thankfully, I went to Lolla with friend B who knows my propensity for panic and was willing to stop and patiently remind me to just b-r-e-a-t-h-e. With that most excellent advice, I was able to watch and listen and really get into the rhythm of the crowd. What did I spy with my camera eye?
People with singular style like Star Child, Tats in Plaid and Cow Man
Veteran punks and rockers reminded me that somewhere within still lurks a thrashing headbanger.
 And did I mention beer? Sadly, time and last-minute festival entrance changes squashed our plans to see Neko Case. A half-mile distance between stages meant we also missed The Killers. Jane’s Addiction more than made up for it with their punk-laced hard charging drums (thank you, Mr. Perkins) and sweet guitar licks. The biggest surprise of the night was indie rock group Band of Horses (Flash warning!). They were new to me but they make some mighty fine music.
By nightfall, a steady, cool breeze began to flow across the park. What a perfect note on which to end a rockin’ day.
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