Something Completely Different

The blue sweater continues to kick my ass with its refusal to be finished. It's as though the sleeve - yes there is still only one - is getting shorter as I knit it. I keep trying it on and loving it, especially the neckline, but I just cannot seem to finish the sleeves. Perhaps I should frog back the sleeve I've already done and finish both of them off as capped sleeves. I left the waste yarn in the working sleeve for this reason. I know in my heart that I don't want it to have capped sleeves, but if I have any hope of finishing it before summer, I might have to give in. Poor Ol' Blue

While I've been contemplating this, I've also been working on what I thought would be the antithesis of that sweater. I started knitting a large gauge sweater on great big needles, thinking that the almost instant gratification would be a nice break from the tedium of Ol' Blue. Know what I've forgotten about great big needles? After an hour or so of knitting with them, my wrist starts to hurt and I have to stop working with the great big needles for at least a few days. But I can't go back to Ol' Blue, because I'm still not over the unrelenting boredom of it.


I'm thinking about starting a third sweater with this stuff. It's the sport/DK weight from Interlacements. I've got two 850-yard skeins of it, and I'd almost certainly double it and knit it as a worsted yarn. Ol' Blue is being knit at a light DK gauge due to swatch/reality issues, and I can't bear the thought of two projects on the needles at that gauge.

I haven't decided what it should be yet, but I'm thinking something sort of Trekkie without being too Out There, if you take my meaning. The colors remind me of the Mutara Nebula from "Wrath of Khan". Oh, Montalban!


"Oh, handsome, courtly Montalban! How I shall miss your dulcet voice, reminiscent of nights sipping brandy by the fire! Your courtly manner brought grace and class to every stage you graced, and your gentlmanly handsomeness vivified every screen, with your warm, olive skin and your manly chest leading the way into every scene. Your suave, virile hips..."

Uh, Buddy?

"Yes, the Woman?"

You O.K. there, guy?

"Well, no, and thank you for finally asking, the Woman. The stage of the world is one light darker for the loss of Montalban. I shall miss him."

Yeah, alright, but it just seems like you're going to REALLY miss him. A LOT. I don't know how to ask this, and you know I'd never pry, but Buddy? Is there something you're not telling me? Did you have a crush on Ricardo Montalban?

"KHAAAAAN! KHAAAAAAAAAN!"

Guess we all should've seen that coming.

One Year Out

I feel so bad about this. I hardly remember her anymore. I try, but I can't remember her face. I can't bring it up in my mind when I think about her. I remember the whines of almost anguished joy when we'd ask her if she wanted to go for a walk, and I remember her sleep-howling. I remember the way her back legs turned out and how funny it made her look on walks when she'd get in front of me. I remember the incessant licking - her paws, our faces, the air, anything her tongue could reach - and how she'd try to do it more quietly when we'd tell her to stop. LICK LICK LICK "Lucy, for the love of GOD! STOP!" lick lick lick.

Everybody loved her. "I don't even like dogs, but she was different." "Oh, that's the one you told me about?" "Yeah, that's the one."

But I can't remember her face.

Morass

No, I haven't abandoned the blog. It's just that I wanted my next post to be about my completed Ingenue and how much I was enjoying it. I kept thinking of other things to post, but then I'd put it off because I didn't want to waste time blogging when I could be knitting. Slight problem with that tactic.

It's never going to be done. It's just...I...it's so...how in the Hell do other people do it so much faster? I mean, I know I'm knitting two or three sizes larger than my size because my gauge turned out to be so tight, but that just means that I'm only knitting as much as someone two or three sizes up from me would legitimately be knitting, right?

Yes, I swatched. And washed the swatch. Twice. And I should have frogged and restarted once I realized that this was going to be a problem, which I did realize about three inches down from the neckline, but I didn't. I made the choice and committed to this gauge and the modifications I'd have to do in order to make it work.


I am further along than this now, but it feels like not very much further along. I have the body done, but I need to undo the lower hem and a couple of inches in order to lengthen it and move the pattern up a little bit. I've resisted doing it so far because the only thing keeping me going with it is my ability to try it on and see how cute it's eventually going to be. If I undo the hem, I lose the ability to even do that. One arm is knit to about the midpoint of my elbow, but I can now see that I've picked up too many stitches around the bound off area, so there's too much fabric there. It's bunching up in a way that I don't think I'm going to be able to accept. I really ought to undo that arm back to the lifeline and redo it for a closer fit.

I keep pushing out the deadline. First, it was the end of November. Then it was last Friday, because I was going to wear it to a coworker's going-away lunch. Then it was Christmas Eve. Then it became "I'll work on it on Christmas Eve and have it done by...now I'm just lying to myself." The current unrealistic goal is New Year's Eve. We'll see. Maybe I should put it away for a couple of weeks and make it January's sweater.

So much yarn out in the stash bins, and I'm still stuck on this one project. I really need to sit down and figure out how to use that knitting machine.

Chugging Along

I'm a few rounds below the sleeves. It feels like slow going. I keep reminding myself that this isn't a chunky knit, so it's going to take longer to see progress on it. Also? This thing's going to attract pet hair more strongly than a Furminator.

The Strange Public Lives of Birds, Part 2

Remember when there were only two of them?

Our office park has been overrun by turkeys. We stood in my soon-to-not-be-my-boss's office and counted them. Thirty-five birds had gathered on the patch of grass outside his window. They'd been out in the parking lot a few minutes earlier, a couple of the hens perched on the roof of a minivan, most of them wandering around the cars.


Of course, this meant that everyone in the building with a camera had to come out and take a picture, so then we had two flocks circling the parking lot, one flock of turkeys and one flock of people holding their cameras at arm's length to try to get the closest shot possible of a puffed-out tom.


The turkeys made a long circle through the parking lot and came back to the shaded grass. This might have seemed like a smart strategic move, because very few of us had cameras equipped to shoot in that light, so they'd found a way to be left alone. Then again, they're turkeys. I don't think they're capable of strategic thinking. Yes, I know, noble creature being underestimated by the arrogant humans and we don't understand animal intelligence and they probably evolved from dinosaurs so they've been around a lot longer than we have and blah blah blah, alright? Nothing against the turkeys, but it's not like they're going to form a war college or anything.


As evidence, I present this picture. This is what happens when turkeys turn and take flight and they don't see the five-story building in their path. This, friends, is turkey snot on a window.

"It literally smacked the snot out of itself. Why did Ben Franklin think that this should be our national bird?"

"Well, he (Franklin) was kind of heavy. Maybe he liked them because they were the only birds he could catch."


In other news, here's yesterday's progress on Ingenue. I'm halfway done with the increase section. It's not coming along as fast as KnottyGnome's, but it is coming along. I love the colors of hers. I wish I had more green in my stash.