Heavenly Bit

We interrupt all scheduled knitting to bring you



What is it?
A kiwi?
Nope
An avocado?
Sorry, no guacamole for you.

Here's a hint--
It followed me home from Habu.



Some may call it yarn.
I call it heaven--
187 yards of 2 ply cashmere.
(The yarn discussed in the linked review is the solid cashmere--my heavenly bit is the same basic stuff.)

What will it be?
Fingerless gloves. Lace and rib tubes. Small and light.

When?
Um. . . . I don't know.

Were yarn diets broken?
Well, sort of--but not really.
This yarn purchase does meet certain exemption criteria
----------BUT----------
even if it didn't--
I don't care!

Tink-Along

Merrily we tink along
Tink along
Tink along
Merrily we tink along
all on a Sunday morn.

I love the tink so much that I did it not once, not twice but
yes, amazingly, three--count 'em-- one, two, three times.

And then I threw the Forest Canopy Shawl out the window.
AAAAARGH!

This is what happens when somebody who has Post-Traumatic-Lace Disorder attempts to knit lace on about three hours of sleep.

My trifecta of insomnia--red wine, coffee, chocolate--kicked in at about 3:30 AM Sunday.

So, I played with Google Earth. Toured the world in eight minutes. Looked up a friend's house in Santa Fe. Tracked my childhood haunts in Albany, NY. Plotted the Starbucks between two relatives' homes in Ohio.

But, that wasn't enough.
I then watched the 5:00 AM NYC traffic.

Collapsed at about 6:30 AM only to wake up at 8:00 AM.

The Voices in My Head must have had good night's sleep, because they told me that I felt like knitting.

You know the rest of the story.

Monday. A new day. Better rested.
Finished the troublesome row. Off by one stitch! AAAARGH!
But was able to fudge the mistake on the purl row.

FCS so far--still looking like a pile o'blecccch.


A sporty snit:



No, no, no! Don't BOO Joe!
It's the curse of Donnie Baseball at work.
Get rid of him now!

Something Tinks Around Here

Sunday morning still life--this is NOT a pretty picture:



Let's see--
Forest Canopy Shawl on the needles
cup of coffee
crochet hook

What does it all mean?

Bibs, Time and Scary Knitting

It took less time than the American Idol finale to finish the bibs (and it was a lot more interesting):


Kippy, the guard cat, making sure the bibs are drying.

So, here's an update on my knitting times:
Total time since Monday until noonish today: 3 hours and 22 minutes.

Monday:
25 minutes working on the heel flap of one Tabloid Sock.
Tuesday:
Nothing. Had friends over for dinner. Too tired to knit.
Wednesday:
1 hour and 39 minutes. Worked both the bib and the sock.
Thursday (so far):
1 hour and 18 minutes to finish the bib.

Here's the very spooky thing--
I only worked on the bibs and the Tabloid Sock.
I kept track of how much time was spent on each.
And for *each* I spent exactly 1 hour and 41 minutes.

Maybe I was wrong.
Maybe the Twilight Zone does control my knitting.

Knitting Log

After my last snit about falling into the Twilight Zone of Knitting, I realize I must apologize to the Twilight Zone. I regret I blamed a time-twisting abyss for my knitting woes.

Saturday's snit:
"I've entered the Twilight Zone of Knitting! I'm working on the ten-stitch, five inch straps and they don't seem to be growing. Will I ever finish? Or is knitting garter stitch baby bibs my personal hell?"

I also need to apologize to Hell.

It's me. Only me. No Hell or Twilight Zone to blame.

I've come to the realization that when I'm surfing the 'net and googling old boyfriends, I'm not knitting. When I'm gossiping via Instant Message and writing crank emails to local news stations, there's no knitting going on.

When I'm watching House and need to cover my eyes during the gory parts, I'm not knitting. When I'm playing with the cats or swapping spit with DH, my fingers aren't holding any needles. And knitting when baking Boogie Knit's Jan 29 Banana Muffins would be too messy.

I'm not talented like some knitters who are able to read and knit. Nor can I knit in the dark. And the yarn would be drowned if I ever attempted to knit in the tub.

Blog reading and blog maintenance keep my fingers busy. Walking and knitting? No can do. Playing mah jongg and working once in a while don't allow for knitting time. And we all know about that Bookworm problem.

In order to see exactly how much knitting time I get in during a week, I'll be keeping a Knitting Log.

You know how when you want to account for your money and you jot down how much you spend?
$2-subway / $3.25-coffee and bagel / $2 office lottery pool/ $72.19 misc.

Well, it'll work something like that. For a week, I'll be tracking the times I do knit. Beginning today--Monday--thru next Sunday. And I'll post the results a couple of times during the week. I'll also note what prevented or enhanced knitting time.

It isn't that I want to knit 24/7, I'm just curious about how much time I actually do knit.

And, maybe, sometime during this week, those baby bibs will be finished!

The New York Look

What is The New York Look? Can you buy it?



I don't think so.
It's often an attitude.
That moment when somebody catches you taking her photo.



It might be in the messages that a bus carries



Or maybe it's in the contrasts



Perhaps The Look is in the ever-present tearing down and building up



or it's in the reflections of the old in the new



This weekend, we're finding it in the Subway Series



Today's Snit is also a Knit--
I'm still knitting the bibs. I've entered the Twilight Zone of Knitting! I'm working on the ten-stitch, five inch straps and they don't seem to be growing. Will I ever finish? Or is knitting garter stitch baby bibs my personal hell?

The WMS-Along

I wasn't blogging when the rest of the blogosphere was doing the ABC-Along--so, I'm gonna do one myself.

And since it's my own, personal ABC-Along, I can skip around and post whatever and whenever I have an idea or two for a letter. I think I'll call it the WMS-Along (Whenever the Mood Strikes-Along.)

First installment of the WMS-Along. The letter B kept popping up in my life this week.

Baby bibs:



and the buttons for the baby bibs:



Should I choose: A


or B ?











Then we have Barney, aka, the Blob O'Fur:




and the delish bite-size frittatas my stepdaughter made for brunch.



The WMS-Along snit:
Read Franklin's 5/13 post. Geez, what a B. . . . !

I love my Mailman

Not pouting anymore. Found this on my doorstep



Tore the box open -- the something inside is wrapped in pink and yellow tissue



YAY! The Dahlia Sock yarn and pattern from Sundara's Petal Collection. (No Yarn Diets were hurt in the acquiring of this yarn since Sock Club yarn doesn't count.)



The sock pattern is an interesting looking lace and rib



And looky-look at this gorgeous yarn! Sundara says that the Dahlia yarn is her favorite Petals Collection yarn yet. I think it may be mine also. The photo doesn't truly reflect the beauty of the shades of coral and pale yellow.



Miss Kip says, "Hey, a gift for me, too!"

Travelin' Tabloid

We went on the road with the Tabloid Socks



and enjoyed some nature



and paid tribute at the National WWII Submarine Memorial (Look closely--the sock is there.)



and then we came home.

Best Foot Forward

My personal Spring doesn't begin when the lilacs



or pansies bloom.



Spring begins when I shake off my wool socks



and get a pedicure



so I can wear toe-baring shoes.



This weekend, some car-knitting is on the agenda. Tabloid Sock will be travelin' again.

Another Taboid Sock heel hint: Something in this photo is another name for the type of heel I've chosen.



Pink bib will also be coming along for the ride.



Weekend Snit:
Well, it's more of a pout. I didn't receive Sundara's Petal Collection package this week. And all the super cool kids have!

The Return of an Old Friend?

I live in a shoebox in NYC. I look out the window and see other apartment buildings. One of the cats forgets which end belongs in the kitty litter box. My decorating style is haphazard chic. The downstairs neighbor bounces off the walls and screams at his whatever-induced visions.

I lounge around in faded yoga pants and unfortunate color-choice tee shirts. Though I'm a believer in Flylady, there's clutter both hidden and in full sight and some days it's tough to set the timer for even thirty seconds. I drink too much coffee out of an ugly mug. I read trashy mysteries. On the radio all day is 1010 WINS and on my ipod I listen to ABBA and John Philip Sousa.

There's been a pair of fingerless gloves for DH on the needles for three years. I tend to knit scarves and misshapen stockinette socks.

That's my reality.

But, then I have the parallel universe reality.

I live in a large, beautiful house. Acres of land with trees and colorful flower gardens. Many, many light and airy rooms that somehow are always magically clean. The antique furniture shines. Upholstered pieces are free of cat-hair. Classical music plays on the stereo. The neighbors come over to drink tea from bone-china cups and the women wear pastel linen dresses and straw hats. Romantic poetry can be found on my night table.

I wrap myself in hand-knit lace shawls. Exquisite sweaters and lace socks fly off the needles.

The now-defunct Victoria magazine fed this fantasy. When I received an issue, I would wait for just the right time to savor it. It wasn't a magazine to rush into. A setting needed to be created. Dim lights. Soft music. Yes, it was a love affair and for countless women when Victoria ceased publication in 2003 our hearts broke.

However, good news this week! Victoria is coming back in October 2007! Different publisher. I'm keeping fingers crossed that we'll continue to see articles dedicated to blue and white china and roses--lots and lots of roses. And we'll have tea parties in English gardens and learn how to prepare quince and read about women who start a wicker and lace business.

Victoria was a huge advocate for women to have A Room of One's Own. They meant this in both the intellectual and comfy-nested sense. For me, Victoria was my refuge. The place where I could dream and plot and plan. The space I needed to assess my life and try out different ideas.

I'm hoping the new Victoria will be like an old friend that I haven't seen in a while. A bit older who has broadened with new experiences --but, still the comfortable, welcoming friend.