A Notion about Notions

I received the prettiest cosmetic bag as a gift (medium pouch/Mumbai Buff). And since knitters see knitterly implications in everything--I saw this might make a good notions bag.

Over the years I've used different bags and tins and nothing seemed quite right. Too small, too big, too flimsy, too bulky. I've never had one notions bag that I could grab and go and be assured that I was prepared for every knitting scenario.



I've now been using this bag for about six weeks and it's perfect!

My necessary notions: Starting from the bottom center: stitch markers, stitch holders, cheat sheet for M1L and M1R (I never remember!), hand lotion, small scissors (These were my Mom's.), a bag with rubber bands, paper clips and small coil-less pins, cable needles, nail file, pen, stitch counter, tape measure, crochet hook, post-its and Chibi darning needles.



And here's all the stuff inside. Neat and tidy!



Do you carry a notions bag? What works for you and what are your necessary notions?

What We Say

This is terrific! I know I've said and done just about every single one of these things!

The Cowl Extrapolation

Though it's been unseasonably warm here in NYC, I'm expecting that soon it'll go from 60 to 0 in one day. I need to be ready.

I have a ton of scarves--handknit and not. However, thinking of bitter winds and ice pellets smacking my face, I had another scarf in mind. Something more cowl-like than scarf. But not a loose, gaping cowl that would allow the wind and snow to zoom and trickle down my neck.



Another type of cowl. A cowl that fits tight at the neck and that will cover about five or six inches of my chest and back. Some might call it a dickie. But I prefer to call it a Wolowitz Thermal Transfer Device aka Howard's Cowl.



Over the weekend, I knit the stitches over four needles so I could try it on. It's perfect! Snug at the neck--but, not so snug that I feel I have a boa constrictor around my neck.



I tried it on with a coat and the dic. . . uh. . . cowl is almost the right length.



Come on, Winter, show your stuff. I'm ready for ya!

Happy Birthday

to Knitty City! For six years they've been my wonderful LYS.



There were plenty of birthday cakes--some edible



some not as tasty.



But the yarns are always yummy!



I celebrated Knitty City's birthday by buying some yarn. Like there's any other way to celebrate?!

Seen in New York

While out and about today, I ran into a friend and a friend of hers. Look--a hand-knit scarf! A friend of my friend's friend knitted the scarf.


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It looked fabulous. The length is just right and the color is a perfect match of her eyes.

I mumbled," Teva Durham's Corkscrew Scarf". But since neither my friend nor her friend are knitters, they didn't catch what I said. But I do love playing "I Can Name That Knit in Two Seconds! "

Teeny-Tiny Tree

The hubster and I usually go to Zingone's and get a not-very-large tree for Christmas. And we carry it home in our SUV (Sidewalk Utility Vehicle.)



However, this year, with the elevator still being repaired, there was absolutely no way we could manage to haul even a not-very-large tree up the stairs.

But it just doesn't seem like Christmas without a tree. So we went to Zingone's and found a tree that we could easily carry!





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We brought it home and decorated it. Perfect!



It may be teeny-tiny. And it's a rosemary plant and not really a tree. But, I see memories and happiness.

Angie, the angel, is the only tree topper I've ever known. She's probably at least as old as I am and I'm pretty old!

We found the handcarved Santas at a craft fair during vacation in the Adirondack Mountains. I look at them and I'm relaxing on the porch overlooking the lake at the cabin we stay at every summer.

In the heart ornament, I see family and friends who touch our lives. Friends whose faces I can picture. Online buddies who I know only by emails, comments and avatars. To all of you, I wish you the tons of happiness contained in this teeny-tiny tree!

The Angel in a Walk-Up

I believe that angels are the unseen little whispers and breezes that nag at us and guide us. But they also can take human form. I met one of those angels yesterday.

I was waiting for a bus--the bus stops in NYC are little shelters that have bench seats. An old woman sat next to me and said, "Oh, this feels good." I did a very un-New York thing and said something back to her. Something neutral that I can't even remember.

She then told me that she didn't start feeling her age since her birthday last month. "May I ask how old you are?" I politely asked. "90 on November 25th," she replied. After I expressed some surprise, she then told me how she's been living in a 5th floor walk-up for 42 years. I said, "That must be very difficult to be walking up so many stairs."

However, I was totally thinking of myself when I said that. For the past five weeks, the one elevator in our building has been under repair. I'm old. I have bad knees. I'm out of shape. We live a few flights up.

Then the old woman told me she had a system for walking up the stairs. "I rest. I don't run. Let those teenagers run. The apartment will always be waiting whether I run up the stairs or if I take my time. Why run up and drop dead? The apartment will be there."

I told the woman about our elevator and having to walk up the stairs and that some days it's very hard. There are times when I think I won't make it.

She looked me over. "You're no teenager. Take your time. Your apartment is going to be there whether you make it home in five minutes or fifteen."

The bus pulled into the stop and I asked her if she was waiting for that one. "Oh, no, dear, I'm only resting here." I boarded the bus and, as I got on, I heard the old woman call out to me, "Bless you." I waved at her and yelled, "Thank you and bless you." I don't know if she heard me.

And so I went on my way. Three heavy shopping bags later, I faced the stairs.




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As I began to climb the stairs, I thought, "The apartment will always be there. No need to rush." I walked very slowly and put the bags down and rested three times on the way up. I can't say resting so much made it any easier. But I wasn't huffing and puffing and my heart didn't feel like it was going to leap out of my chest by the time I opened the apartment door.

And, just like the old lady said, there was my apartment. Waiting.