I've been knitting, just a little. In the evenings, Husband and I watch a marathon of West Wing beginning with season one, and I add the sound effects—clickety clickety clickety.
For Christmas, my sister Melanie gave me a fluffy hank of hand-dyed wool, so I took it to my friend Julie. Julie, a woman with a lovely voice and the ability to play a sax solo that would make you cry, has a spinning wheel. She uses it to spin yarn from the stuff she clips off of her giant angora rabbit, and she used it to spin my wool into a skein of rustic looking yarn. It was only one skein, so I decided to turn it into a small handbag, given I have a closet full of scarves already. I love how the colors meld without too much planning, and there is a touch of whimsy with some silver strands peaking out here and there.
I also made a cable scarf, even though I have this closet full. I really just wanted to play with the cable pattern. This is a 14-row pattern, impossible to memorize but not so difficult you can't sail right through it. This two-toned scarf is knitted with Lion Brand worsted weight, two strands knitted together. (don't enlarge the photo because it reveals cat debris on the rug)
Now for the real thing, the sweater. A week or two ago, I posted this pattern, and then I set out to make the sweater. I followed the pattern down to the letter—never missed a row or a stitch or confused a single thing, yet the pattern didn't seem to align with the sample photo. What looks like a tunic in the sample actually turns out to be a cropped cardigan with the buttons running down the center. I'd think I had made a mistake in the length, except the thing specifically said to make it 11 inches long before adding the popcorn stitch border.
I'm not sure if I'll ever wear this sweater, but for me, knitting is more about the experience than the finished result. That's what people say when they think the finished result stinks. It lowers their expectations and excuses the messes.
Now, what can I make? I think I'll leave the funky stuff to No. 1 who has been really going to town with the needles and yarn. Take a look:
A cat, a lobster and a felted shoe
For Christmas, my sister Melanie gave me a fluffy hank of hand-dyed wool, so I took it to my friend Julie. Julie, a woman with a lovely voice and the ability to play a sax solo that would make you cry, has a spinning wheel. She uses it to spin yarn from the stuff she clips off of her giant angora rabbit, and she used it to spin my wool into a skein of rustic looking yarn. It was only one skein, so I decided to turn it into a small handbag, given I have a closet full of scarves already. I love how the colors meld without too much planning, and there is a touch of whimsy with some silver strands peaking out here and there.
I also made a cable scarf, even though I have this closet full. I really just wanted to play with the cable pattern. This is a 14-row pattern, impossible to memorize but not so difficult you can't sail right through it. This two-toned scarf is knitted with Lion Brand worsted weight, two strands knitted together. (don't enlarge the photo because it reveals cat debris on the rug)
Now for the real thing, the sweater. A week or two ago, I posted this pattern, and then I set out to make the sweater. I followed the pattern down to the letter—never missed a row or a stitch or confused a single thing, yet the pattern didn't seem to align with the sample photo. What looks like a tunic in the sample actually turns out to be a cropped cardigan with the buttons running down the center. I'd think I had made a mistake in the length, except the thing specifically said to make it 11 inches long before adding the popcorn stitch border.
I'm not sure if I'll ever wear this sweater, but for me, knitting is more about the experience than the finished result. That's what people say when they think the finished result stinks. It lowers their expectations and excuses the messes.Now, what can I make? I think I'll leave the funky stuff to No. 1 who has been really going to town with the needles and yarn. Take a look:
A cat, a lobster and a felted shoe
Comments
You actually managed to finish that monster one-piece sweater? Wow!
I love the lobster!
I, too, can play a sax solo that would make you cry, but probably not for the same reason as Julie.
I think the story of the angora rabbit should be told.