Reclamation

Way back in January, I mentioned that I had a new knitting goal for this year. You might think that it’d be the same as the knitting goals I come up with every year, which are to knit more, knit faster, and not buy yarn to replace the yarn I’ve used. Yes, I still have those goals, but I’ve added another one, one which I think is going to complement the first three. My main goal this year is to wear what I’ve made, and do something with it if I think that it isn’t currently wearable.

This was prompted by a big closet clean-out that I did right after Christmas. I took everything out and threw it on the bed, then tried it on before putting it back in the closet. If it didn’t fit, it didn’t go back. If I didn’t like how it hung on me, it didn’t go back. If I never wore it, even though there was nothing obviously wrong with it, which meant that there was something about it that just wasn’t right for me, and it didn’t go back. What I was left with was a much less crowded closet containing only clothes that fit and flatter me right now, a dozen skirts and pairs of trousers folded into a pile on my bed, and several sweaters that I never wore wadded up next to them. I boxed up the too-small clothes and stored them, because there’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to wear them in a few months. Then, I dealt with the sweater collection.

Some of the sweaters were store-bought and just faded enough that they didn’t look sharp enough for work. If they looked decent enough to donate, they went into a bag and went to Goodwill. Some of them were just slightly too small, which is more an issue with me than with the garment. Those got folded up and stored in the cedar drawer under my bed. My beloved chick-gym went out of business a few weeks ago, and I bought one of the treadmills from the liquidator. Freed from the “I can’t drive to the gym in the dark” problem, I’ve been running three times a week. It’s only a matter of time before the smaller clothes rejoin the rotation.

A few of the sweaters were simply bad designs for me. Even at my very fittest, I don’t look good with garments that cover my bust and end at mid-ribcage. This style of cardigan makes me look like a post-op augmentation patient, and I ought to know that look, because I was once a data entry clerk at an implant manufacturer. Fun fact. I also gain weight around the middle and don’t have a strongly defined waist. I look good in things with empire waists, or that tuck in at that point and then flow back out to mid-hip, but not things where either the color or the entire garment abruptly stops right there.

So what was I thinking making cropped sweaters? The only one that doesn’t make me cringe when I come across it is the (not)Two-Tone Shrug, which avoids all of the worst shape offenses by not having much of a front profile. It also creates the illusion of a more slender back, because it curves in where my waist should narrow. (not)Two-Tone is safe, then, just waiting for me to tone up and wear it. The others, though, need some help.


I’ve had Cobweb shifting around on the shelf for almost four years. I wore it to Kitten’s wedding but, although I love the color and the feel of it, and I said that I could see myself wearing it all the time, I’ve never worn it again. Not once. I love how soft it is. I love the lace. I love the beading. It’s a great shade on me, especially when my hair is darker, like it is now. It’s a shame that it has been demoted to “nice thing to brush my hand against while I’m hanging up my shirts”. I feel sad when I see it in there, and when I occasionally pull it out so that I can lovingly refold it.

My plan for it is simple. I’m going to make it a full-length cardigan. I’m going to pick up along the bottom and knit down in the lace pattern. I haven’t decided if I want to pull out the crochet scallops. I might have it tie at one side. I still have a bunch of the beads, so there are all sorts of possibilities for beaded closures and ties.


Anthropologie-Inspired Capelet is another story entirely. I didn’t like it as I was knitting it, I didn’t like it when I finished it and laid it flat to photograph it, and I’ve never worn it. It’s too stripy for my taste, and there’s nothing that can save the style of it for me. I’d thought about pulling out the bind-off and continuing down to hip length with a coordinating solid yarn, but then I’ve still got all of that busy variegation up at my widest point. I can’t add a solid border around it to make an additional yarn color look intentional, because the seed border at the neckline is part of the body. When I come across this one, I get angry. I do not stare at it lovingly as I hold it up in front of me. My most common response is to grunt, “Ugh! Stupid f&%king mistake!” and shove it roughly to the back of the closet. This yarn made me much happier in the skein than it does knit up.

So there’s no hope for it in its current state. I haven’t decided if I want to reuse it for socks, or as an accent stripe or faux-Fair Isle in a solid sweater. I have decided that it’s not going to sit in my closet anymore, so that’s a start.

My final two reworks-in-progress are Pas de Valse, which desperately needs me to work a crochet border around its edges, and a lacy tie-front sweater from Banana Republic that I’ve been meaning to recreate and improve upon for several years.


PdV should take all of about two hours to finish once I commit to it. I had a lot of problems with that pattern and it shows, especially up around the collar. I need the crochet edge to flatten everything out and cover the evidence of my crimes. It’s the main reason I haven’t done an FO write-up about it yet. Even though I’ve been wearing it since January – with decreasing frequency and increasing displeasure – I don’t consider it done.


The Banana sweater is still in my closet simply because I keep thinking that I can use it as a template and whip up a better one. I mean, look at it. It’s three rectangles of great big lace knitting, with ties in awkward places. I got it off of the clearance rack, probably because it didn’t look good on anybody, even the models. Here’s how I think the photo shoot must have gone down. “It’s meant to hang straight, tie directly over the crotch, but not very tightly, and slip off your shoulders if you turn your head more than a centimeter in either direction. I need you to lean forward and slouch your shoulders. Annabella! SLOUCH, damn you! You are having a good time on your beach vacation, and so much fun that you are unconcerned that your flimsy cover-up is neither flattering nor conforming to the shape or your body as you listen to your sandy-haired boyfriend in the cargo capris play the ukulele by the campfire. Slouch and laugh whimsically!”


I have to guess that’s how it went, because I never saw a photo of it, which means that it slipped into the stores under the radar, and slipped back out without being featured in any catalog. Nevertheless, there’s something about it that appeals to me, because I’ve had it for six years and I keep trying to wear it, even though the ties are too long and the shape is so weird. I have cotton in my stash that would work for it. In fact, that’s probably a good use for cotton yarn, because it’d be lacy enough to remain lightweight.


This, then, is my main goal for this year. If something isn’t working, don’t let it sit around and continue to not work. If I have a dozen skirts and pairs of trousers that don’t fit, they shouldn’t confront me and make me feel ashamed of myself every time I open the closet door. If I took the time to knit something, that time was wasted if the thing sits in my closet for five years. I should wrest back control of these things. Gotta get with the moving forward.

Waiting in the Half-light

12:45 - Anxious

You know what job I should have? Veterinary radiologist. They seem to make pretty good money, based on how much I've given them in the last year and a half, and they get to make their own hours. Today, for example, while I'm waiting by the phone for someone to tell me if Lucy has lymphoma, the radiologist is deciding if his wife is going to be mad if he comes in to work for an hour or two. "He might be here after 4:00." They've been great at the emergency vet, don't get me wrong, it's just that when it's your pet in the crate waiting for service, you don't want to hear "if he doesn't make it out today, you might as well pick her up and deal with it next week." I know that's just the way it is, but that's not what I want to hear. Grumpy and sick with worry. Want answer now.

While I'm waiting, I'm working on Arosa. I've got the back and the main part of the front done. The second part of the front is a little different than I thought it'd be -- it's just a little panel that gets sewn in after the neckline is done. I don't know what I thought it was going to be instead, but I didn't think it'd be a weirdly shaped piece of fabric.

I really like how this yarn's knitting up. Look at how cool the neckline's going to be, even before the edging gets picked up.



One last thing about Cobweb -- here's a detailed view of the bead and purl section. The color's weird in the picture, but at least the details are there.


Just waiting.

6:45 - Ranting and Foul-Mouthed

What is it with the cancer? First DaddyBanana has cancer, then my cousin has cancer, and now my DOG has cancer? Jesus tapdancing CHRIST! Could we stop with the fucking cancer already?!?

Hey, so now you get to say f$5k but I still get censored? - Belligero

Fuck off, clown.

a spiderweb and it's me in the middle

Well, it's done. Sort of. By 'sort of', I mean 'I really don't like the cord I threaded through the scallops, and I still think it'd be better with a button closure, but I wore it anyway.' I wore it, if only for the length of the ceremony and five minutes afterward, because more than that was going to be nothing less than madness.

Details? Why, certainly!

Pattern: Cobweb from Rowan #40
Size: The 36" size. I could have made the 34", and it would probably have fit more like the one on the model, but it's cool. I like how this one fits.
Yarn: Elann Baby Silk in Salmon - it took a little more than eight balls, so probably about 900 yards.
Beads: Don't know exactly, acrylic beads I bought at Just Bead It, the local bead shop. I used half as many as the pattern called for, because I only did the dark beads.

What I Did: Not so much different than the Rowan pattern, really. Well, except that I left out the crochet flowers, did away with half the beads, ran a scallopy border around the whole body and made it in an affordable yarn that bears only a passing resemblance to Kidsilk Haze.

Baby Silk has almost no halo, isn't mohair, isn't airy, and is about a third as expensive as Kidsilk. It might seem like a strange substitute. I chose to use Baby Silk because I had it in my stash, and I'm trying to at least make a tiny dent in it this year. The good news is that it has fantastic stitch definition, even after rolling around with me for weeks while I knit with it. This worked out perfectly, as I needed the purl stitches to stand out in the bead section. I love this yarn. So soft, so easy to work with, such a lovely drape.

What's the bad news? Remember, I'm trying to reduce the stash. I started with twenty-five balls of this stuff. I've still got more than sixteen of them. And another twenty-five in seashell pink. Yeah, I had a shopping problem for a while there. I think I was thinking of making the Vintage Pink Cardigan from Interweave Knits Spring 2005, and then I chickened out when I saw the gauge. Back then, if I couldn't knit something at four stitches to the inch or bigger, I deemed it impossible. I've still got enough of it. Maybe we'll see Vintage Pink happening in the next few months.

The pattern is well written, and I didn't change a thing about the basic construction. I only veered off on the finishing details. Easy to read, easy to follow, a real joy to knit.

If I make another one, I'll:
--Eliminate the beads, or run them along with a carryalong thread. For me, it's too much of a pain in the ass to deal with all of those beads, and I'd be doing it for the back and both fronts at the same time because...
--Knit the fronts and the sides in one piece so that the columns of beads wouldn't be broken by the seam. Maybe that wouldn't matter so much if the sweater were done in Kidsilk Haze because the seams would be obscured. Nobody else notices, but that misalignment really stands out when I look at it.
--Different border. I like the scallops on this one, but I think I'd want something less ruffly if I did it again.

Will I Wear It: You bet! Now that the wedding's over, I don't feel the need to protect it from harm. Not that I'm going to beat it against a rock or anything, but I'm not going to shy away from reaching for it on a chilly evening in the yard. In a strange and fortunate twist, it matches a lot of what's in style this season. I plan to get a lot of wear out of it.


"I like this shot. It looks like a pose from one of those magazines." --Accountant Boy

Nothing But Flowers

We have a bad habit, Accountant Boy and I. We buy plants on a whim, then we leave them too long in whatever pot they came in. When it finally becomes apparent that the plants are days, maybe hours away from their last, unrecoverable wilt, we throw them in the ground and hope for the best. This plant falls into the "Oh my God! It LIVED!" category. When my trainer, we'll call her The Amazon, got married, she had hydrangeas on all of the tables at the reception. At the end of the night, those of us milling about had these centerpieces thrust at us. I don't know anything about hydrangeas, so I kept it in a nursery pot for the first few months, and when all of its leaves turned black and dropped, I felt guilty and sad. I left the plant in a corner of the patio and tried to ignore it. When the weather warmed, the plant leafed out again. "Oh my God! It LIVED! Throw it in a bigger pot! HURRY!"

I asked Ron the Gardener about it, and he said, "Wants to be in the ground. They get big." I couldn't figure out if "they get big" was supposed to encourage or deter me. He's a laconic fellow, Ron the Gardener.

"Uh, how about out front? Would it be happy out there? I don't want to put it out there and watch it die, because that's totally demoralizing to see that happen every day, so, you know, is that a good idea? Because this plant's kind of sentimentally special to me, and I want to make sure I don't do something stupid with it."

"Yep. Next week." Like I said, laconic.

It seems really happy in its new spot, so I think we made the right choice. It almost looks like we planned it that way.


Nearby, I panic-planted my Mexican dayflowers. Is that the most beautiful blue flower you've ever seen? Each flower only lasts a day, hence the name, but every day there's a new one. The flowers spring out of a single pod, one after the other, like a shark tooth rotating forward as the tooth in front of it falls out. I bought three of these plants at Home Depot a few years ago, and they've been in the ground, in three pots, in one small pot, and now back in the ground again. I had no idea what they were when I bought them, just that they looked like little corn plants. It's my other bad plant habit - I pick the weirdest, scrubbiest looking plants from the back shelf in the far corner of the garden center. My yard is the planted equivalent of the Island of Misfit Toys.

Guess what I did over the weekend? I finished Cobweb! Where are the pictures, you might ask? Fair question. I haven't taken any, because I can't decide if I really and truly am finished. See, there's this whole issue with me making it a tad too wide at the bottom, which makes it perfect for a wrap sweater, which it's not supposed to be, but certainly could be if I wanted to make ties or figure out how to fasten it. Also, after a couple of hours of waffling on the edging and getting a few inches into crocheting it each time, I still haven't decided if a scalloped edge is the way to go. Plain edge is looking better by the moment. So it's not as simple as saying it's done, because I haven't stopped fiddling with it yet.


Here's where it was a week ago. I finished it over the weekend, thanks largely to Accountant Boy, who set me up on the back patio with a glass of wine and my knitting while he did all of the nagging, unfinished yard work. He's the coolest.

Blofeld

First, a note to anyone who might be feeling bad about laughing at the last post -- please laugh. It became funny about twenty seconds after the explosion, like Saturday-morning-cartoon-funny. I'm fine, even though my frayed eyelashes are still getting hung up when I blink. "Your eyes are fine. Your eyelashes did their job, alright," said my optometrist. "Oh my GOD!" said the girl at the Lancome counter. "I'll take a tube of that lash conditioner, please," said I.


"Who keeps doing that? Guys? Who keeps filling the friggin' candy jar by the coffee pot with those little Baby Ruths? Smith, is that your doing? STOP IT! How many times must I tell you to put stuff in there that I DON'T LIKE? Would it kill you to buy Almond Joys once in a while???"

Damned candy bars. I was just going over there to get a spoon for my very healthy, sensible yogurt, and I happened to open the jar. Now I feel all sugary and ashamed.

On the plus side, the damned candy bars are sitting on a sleeve of Cobweb, about three centimeters away from the start of the cap shaping. I realized the other day that I really don't have as much time as I thought I did before the wedding, so I'm throwing all of my knitting time into this one project until it's done. I'm still loving the lace pattern and the yarn. Putting the Baby Ruths on it showed me that it's going to look good with all kinds of colors, not just coppery earthtones. I think it'd be really nice over something blue.

I also realized that I like seeing knitters' works-in-progress at all stages, and that by saying things like "still knitting (x), but it's too boring to show you", I was doing exactly the opposite. So no more "I'm knitting the sleeve, but who the Hell wants to see a picture of a half-finished sleeve, anyway?" posts. I know I'd want to see a picture of a half-finished sleeve. I love pictures.


Accountant Boy and I were in San Francisco on Sunday. We had coffee at Caffe Puccini. The couple on the other side of the window sat down, had some pie, and then fell fast asleep. His head is tilted as far back as it can go, and his mouth is wide open. You can't see the woman in this picture, but she's face-down on the table. It looks like someone came by and blackjacked the both of them.


My toe got worse, but I still maintain that the nail isn't going to fall off. The force of my will is going to hold it in place. I think. It's not at all pretty, but it's holding its own. On the off chance that you're reading this while enjoying a fine meal, I've made the picture quite small. You're welcome.

Sunday evening, lying in bed, unable to sleep after my ordeal, I complained bitterly to Accountant Boy. "You know, between my gangrenous toe, and my knee, and my crispy hair, and the burn on my arm," because the blast also took the hair off of my forearm, the one I always burn when cooking, "I might as well just admit that I'm turning into a hideous caricature of a person. I'm going to end up wearing an eye patch, rolling around in a wheelchair with a peg leg and a HOOK for a HAND! And my tooth hurts, so I might as well tell Dr. Alves to put a big, metal cap on it, on ALL of my teeth while he's in there. I'll roll into the office tomorrow in my armor-plated wheelchair with my burnt, bald head and my metal teeth and my eye patch, while Buddy squirms in my lap as I try to pet him with my HOOK HAND LIKE A VILLAIN FROM A JAMES BOND FILM AND..."

"...the brakes on your wheelchair will squeak."

"You're an asshole, A.B."

"skrrrreeeeEEEEEEEEEECH..."

Blog Post 101

So that last, angst-filled post was my 100th post? Man, that sucks. This one's going to be SO much better. Thank you guys for the sympathy. It perked me right up.

Batty, no yarn therapy for me. I'm sitting on an enormous stash, and there are so many bundles of yarn in there with potential to be beautiful, that the one thing I'm NOT thinking about doing is buying more. I've replaced yarn therapy with extravagant clothing and shoe purchases at Ann Taylor Loft, where they very kindly made all of their clothes in exactly the right sizes and proportions this season, and even more kindly gave me a stylish new credit card with which to purchase said clothes. Dammit.

Jo, those crows are diving down the side of a strip mall holding a Starbucks, a sandwich place and a bank. Obviously, the artist hasn't ever been menaced by a flock of seagulls after dropping a bag of Fritos on the beach in Cayucos. That kind of thing'll scar you for life, man. Twenty-two years, and I'm still not over it. I still hear their ravenous cries and feel the frenzied beating of their wings against my neck. Sometimes, just the smell of corn chips brings it all back to me. I throw my arms up over my head and whimper. It makes team lunches at Quiznos interesting and emotionally perilous. But I digress.

Bobbi, thanks for the tag. Of course I'll answer it, because there's nothing I love more than talking about myself.

Seven Random Things About Me:

1. Every time I watch 'Independence Day', I cry during the scene where Jasmine and Dylan are running into the side chamber of that tunnel and their dog Boomer is still by their car. I don't know why, seeing as how I know Boomer lives and I've seen the scene several dozen times. When Jasmine calls, "Boomer!" and Boomer turns his doggy head in slo-mo, I get that lump in my throat, and I feel my face getting hot. "Dude! Are you really crying?" Daisy thinks it's funny.

2. I can cross my eyes and, while holding one of them in place, roll the other one around in all different directions. I can do this with either eye.

3. I'm a Coke drinker, and will go without a beverage if the only one offered is a Pepsi.

4. I dream in full, cinematic color. My dreams have panning shots and close-ups, cut scenes, and occasionally have original musical scores.

5. I don't have a middle name. When I was a little girl, I used to wish that my middle name was Michelle.

6. I have a celebrity crush on Makoto Nagano, the second man to achieve total victory by reaching the top of Mount Midoriyama and earning the title of Ninja Warrior.

7. I love 'COPS', especially episodes where the perps say, "I got no reason to lie to you, sir. I admit I was just lyin' to you. I'm bein' truthfull about that. Why're you handcuffin' me? SIR?!?" Oh, perps. How your drug-addled capers amuse me.

I'm tagging KnottyGnome, Jo, Ceallach, Batty and Ruth. If any of you have either already been tagged or just want to bow out, no hard feelings.


In knitting news, here's the back of Cobweb. I'm working on the sleeves now. It's amazing how much better this is going now that I've figured out what the hell is going on with the lace. As with Starsky, I had to take the instructions and translate them into a pattern that maybe only makes sense to me. Cobweb's charted lace pattern became "this is the row where I close up all the triangles" and "this is the row where everything stays the same". It also occured to me, post-ripping last week, that the increases and decreases had to be paired, and that on "close up the triangles" row", the closed triangle had to be flanked by two yarnovers to keep the stitch count even. Prior to realizing that, I'd knit along until I got to the end of the row, and if I didn't have enough stitches left to do the full increase/decrease pair, I'd do half of it. Then stitches would go askew, and I'd spend an hour trying to figure out why. Much better now that I've learned how to read my knitting.

"Yeah, that's great and all, but what about Bay to Breakers? Did you sleep through it, like you slept through the Bridge to Bridge Run last year?"

As a matter of fact, we did it, and we finished. More on that later.

Murder of Crows

I'm making great progress on Arosa, even though I'm only working on it at work. I'm up to the middle of the armhole shaping on the back. Yeah, it's not so interesting to talk about, but it's refreshingly simple to work on, soothingly meditative. I take it out to my car on my lunch hour and work on it while listening to 90s-at-noon on Live105. It's the best part of my workday. This yarn has a great drape. I also bought a bag of it in black/silver, and I'm thinking of remaking the IK Greek Pullover with it.

Cobweb was going well as well, and I'd hoped to have a finished picture of the back by today, but then I noticed that I'd screwed up the first and last repeats of the lace several rows earlier, and then I tried to drop the stitches and fix it, and then there was weeping and much gnashing of teeth. One hour later, I'd ripped back to where I was on Tuesday, and I think I got all of the stitches back on the needle, but I wisely decided to put it down for the evening and go to sleep.

That's all the knitting news.

I'm slacking on the gym. I'm blaming it on my knee being kind of tight and sore, but that's just an excuse. I'm burning out on work, on my fitness regime, on a lot of things.

Last night, Daisy noticed that Lucy has rubbed all of the fur off under her collar. I looked down at my newly baldnecked dog, looked up at Daisy, got teary-eyed and whispered, "That's horrible. I'm horrible. How did I let this happen? My poor, poor Lucy!"

"It happens. It's just HAIR. Calm down. It will grow back."

"Will it? Will it really?" My lip trembled.

"Dude! What's WRONG with you?!?"

"I need mashed potatoes and gravy, and I don't have the will to move off of this couch."

We were wallowing in our ennui last night, what with Daisy's freelancing job at the chocolate factory coming to an unexpectedly sudden end and my job/cars/finances/knees/pets/statuary seemingly slipping out of my control. I've stopped e-mailing people, stopped commenting on blogs, kind of stopped caring if anyone calls. Daisy's in the same boat. I think we're both a tad depressed. Hell, the only reason we're still keeping in touch is that we live next door to each other. Held down in our morass of apathy by our ill-defined malaise, we couldn't pull ourselves out of it enough to even find food. Falstaff saved us by driving to El Pollo Loco and buying us chicken dinners.

Today's looking a little better. I made an appointment for Lucy to see the vet about her obsessive licking and chewing. A.B. thinks she might be allergic to the bark, which would really suck, but I think it's probably more likely that she's allergic to the grass. She's been doing this for way longer than we've had the new bark. Anyway, I made the appointment for her, so that's checked off the long list. A.B. and I are run/walking Bay to Breakers on Sunday, probably way more walking than running, but we're going to do it. I've got Arosa in my bag and the weather's looking nice for a lunchtime knitting session. It's a good day.

On my way to work today, I saw my favorite outdoor jogger. I call him Superguy. He wears what I can only imagine are his only clothes suitable for exercise -- bright purple gym shorts, a shade of purple not normally found in men's sportswear, and a grungy white tanktop with the Superman logo emblazened across his big, round belly. I'm pretty sure the tank isn't supposed to fit him that way, that it's meant for a much taller man but it's the size he needed to cover his gut. He's a heavier gentleman, is what I'm trying to say. Oh, and it has a tear near one of the shoulders, making it look like it had been in the rag pile at some point before receiving a second chance. I like to imagine Superguy pawing through the laundry basket, shouting in to his wife, "Hey, where's my tank top?" "I use it to polish the furniture. I've used it to polish the furniture for five years now. It's a RAG." "Ah, man!" He pulls it out of a basket of stained, torn cloth napkins and towels, holds it up to the light, sees the rip in the shoulder but notes that it's still technically wearable. "It still fits!" What I like most about him, about the idea of him, is that I've seen him every few days for a few weeks now. He didn't just try it once, then give up. Damned if I don't find that inspiring.

I know it's called Crow Canyon Place. I know it's not supposed to be ominous and scary. And yet...

Germander Sage

Pretty #3: Mmmmmm...Artyarns Regal Silk. The color variations aren't in the yarn. They're due to the reflected light from my kitchen window. I don't know what this is going to be yet, but whatever it is will shimmer like nobody's business.

Don't look at me like that. I couldn't help but buy it. Yes, it's an addition to my stash, and yes, I said I wouldn't do that. But eleven dollars a skein! C'mon, now. How was I supposed to say no to that?

Know what we haven't done in a while? Resolution update! Wheeee!

--Still exercising, although I'm starting to resent how it's cutting into my relaxation time. I swam a mile yesterday, and it didn't utterly destroy me. That's a big accomplishment for me. I love the water, but I'm not a distance swimmer. What I mean is, I'm not yet a natural at it, but I'm getting there. That gets me thinking about what I say about myself, what I think about myself. I've always thought of myself as 'not an athlete'. "Everybody's going hiking? I'll hang out at the tent with our stuff. I'm not a hiker." What that means is "I'm afraid I won't be able to keep up, and I'm afraid I'll slip on the rocks, and I'm afraid I'm not good enough..." It's like a delusion of grandeur in reverse. And it's a load of crap, but after this much time, my whole sentient life, it's the way I think. If you watched 'Dead Like Me' on Showtime, it's like George's narration over the episode where she joins Dolores' bowling league. "Why was I so afraid..." By the way, if you haven't seen 'Dead Like Me', it's a gem, and it's available on Netflix.

I told Accountant Boy about my hiking fears, and he replied, "Your balance is better than mine, and you're not going to have any trouble keeping up. You just need to believe it." That's my new mini resolution. Believe it.

--Be a Better Programmer - still working on it. I'm actually starting to believe that I AM a programmer, not someone who accidentally fell into the job and hasn't been found out yet. Other people apparently already think of me as the former, but I'm convinced that I've duped them. One of us is wrong, them or me. It's probably me. Same mini resolution as above. Believe it.

--Knit from stash - yes! I love how Cobweb is knitting up in my second-oldest cache of stash yarn. I'd show pictures, but I've decided to knit all of the beaded portions first, and there's already a nice picture of beads and yarn in a previous post. Pictures when I get to the lace, I promise. I've only added that Regal Silk to the stash since the cataloging.

--Meet knitters - I suck. More specifically, my fitness regime is taking priority over knitting group. That mile in the water took more than an hour last night, after which I went home and collapsed on the couch. Technically, I DID meet some knitters. It's just been a long, long while since I did it. Does that count as a complete resolution?

--E-mail friends - Our friends? The ones we never respond to? They sent us a birth announcement for their baby the other day. So now we have a fresh, new reason to respond to them. We're on it, distant college friends! In a tragic technological turn, the computer that held all of our addresses and phone numbers suffered a catastrophic hard drive failure a few weeks ago. We have to rebuild from scratch, because we don't have any contact information backed up anywhere else. In a hilarious twist, this means that the only people for whom we have contact info are our distant college friends, because we've got their address from the birth announcement envelope. Looks like this resolution's getting new focus, whether we like it or not.

Even I'm bored by the resolution posts, but they're keeping me honest. It's the end of April, and I still know what they are. That's an accomplishment in itself.

Hey, know what all of that bark, the nitrogenated black bark that I shoveled for seven hours, those tons and tons of bark did for the garden? Everything's gone wild. The nitrogen is already seeping into the soil.

Gratitude: Every evening when I come home from work, this is the first thing I see when I open my car door.

Auburn Sunset

The swatch for Cobweb, caught in the last warm rays of an April sunset.

I decided not to go with two bead colors, so I'm replacing the lighter beads with a purl stitch. I think it's going to add a neat textural component to the piece. Besides, the beads are just slightly too tight for a needle and the yarn to go through, so I'm having to twist the end of the yarn up with wax and thread it through them that way. No way am I doing that for twice the number of beads.

Yes, I have finished Starsky and I've worn it twice. I just don't have a picture of it yet. We have such grand plans for the photo essay. If they don't come to fruition by the end of the week, I'll take some standard FO pictures of it.

Winner, Winner!

We have a winner! Congratulations, Jo! You've got some Mountain Colors headed your way. Send your mailing info to [redacted, because I have an unusual surname], and I'll get it into the mail Monday.

I think I've picked...and of course it's not the easiest pattern. I'm going to give Cobweb from Rowan 40 a try, possibly even with the flowers. I have this vision of them sort of matching the flowers in the embroidery band of the dress, and that'd be cool. I love all of the patterns, so when I give up on Cobweb in a fit of rage and despair, I'll have plenty of runners-up to choose from. This is also really helpful because I have a lot of dresses, due to a brief three-way love affair with eBay and Betsey Johnson, and I haven't worn them because I don't have anything to wear with them. This Spring's going to be the Season of the Bolero.

I'd say more about them, and how much I appreciate all of the suggestions, but I've got to run outside and secure some tarps to my driveway before MacAlvey's Nursery dumps thirteen cubic yards of bark there. Sometimes Accountant Boy and I go a little crazy with the home improvements. There'll be pictures later, if we survive the day.