Aurora

Just a simple series of knitted concentric circles in a soft, hazy acrylic the color of an early Spring evening.

Started it to break out of a rut.  As with all projects of this nature, it's coming along slower than I'd like.  Am enjoying its progress, though.  When this one gets off the needles, might try another and, who knows?  maybe even take the pattern down.

Hope is the thing with feathers.

As it's been warm enough lately to sleep with both the windows and the back porch door open, I've been getting woken up early (like 4:00 am ish) by the birds. Often it's cardinals working at establishing territory. Sometimes it's house finch chatter. Every now and again, it'll be a little white-throated sparrow singing a matin.*

Thank goodness for Spring! Thank heavens for those bird-songs!

When there's enough light (and it's not too damp, of course), I've been taking to sitting out on the balcony with a cup of coffee, the cats and a knitting project. The knitting's a great soul-soother; don't know why, but it seems that when my hands are moving, my mind gets calmer and I can think more clearly.

Lately, my fingers have been itching to swatch bits of lace. Sometimes they stay swatches, other times they grow into projects. Here's a little pattern for something I whipped up recently based on the Gull Lace Stitch made popular by the legendary Elizabeth Zimmermann.

Hopeful Neckwarmer (Pattern Available Here.)





***

* Sparrow is moineau in French, so we like to say that it's un petit moineau-moine qui chante ses matins. Have also decided that he's a Franciscan, since he dresses in brown and that's the big animal-friendly order.

Salade Russe.*

Planned to use an already-written-out recipe for a ring-bearer's pillow for a friend, but scrapped after having started and frogged all knitted elements involved. Was just miserable, miserable stuff. Find myself sort of winging it now:



For the edging, I'm using that old standby, Aunt Lydia's crochet cotton on this pattern. Have no idea as to what I'm going to do for a medallion - either I'll do something modular on two needles or I'll suck it up and do a traditional doily on double pointed needles. We'll see.

Also - am *not* using satin like described in the original pattern. Can't stand satin. I've got some gorgeous white linen that I think'll be perfect for this. Again, we'll see.

***

Salade Russe literally means just that: Russian Salad, as opposed to the normal French conceit of composed salads. Idiomatically, it means 'crazy, mixed-up thing.' Also, I think that it might be old-fashioned language, as nowadays I hear 'bordel' to mean roughly the same thing. Oh well, I like the term, so will keep using it. (Part of the luxury of being a foreigner and cute.)

Arrowhead.

Finished my first arrowhead lace shawl - turned out to be more of a scarf, as the Noro ran out and I didn't have anything complementary to finish the shawl off with. Kind of reminds me of a First Communion veil or maybe even a mantilla.



Thought I might give this to Karen, but now am not so sure. Don't think it's in her colors.

Was such a joy to knit, that almost immediately after binding off the first, I cast on for a second one:



I'm cannibalizing a kit a friend gave me; plan even on incorporating the included beads.

The yarn's a bit more difficult to deal with than the Noro; sticks a bit to the needles. Love those jewel tones!

Sea Legs.

Couldn't concentrate on lace for a while. Or knitting. Or putting one foot in front of the other, exhaling after inhaling, etc. Had to put aside the pretty but kind of complex 12 row repeat pattern I was working, as was tinking back more rows than was knitting forward.



Here's the start of my Glasgow Lace pullover, anyway. Can't tell from the rather old picture, but I'm about 1/2 way through with the back panel. Am planning on making the body longer, giving it some shape and shortening the sleeves. The yarn's some seriously vintage wool (possibly as old as me) I picked up at the Salvation Army in Leominster not quite 10 years ago.

At some point a few weeks back, maybe when the Frenchie was here, got seriously tired of not knitting. Needed to do get the hands moving and it needed to be simple. Since I'd gotten enough grief about the state of my worn-out but much-loved quilt, so decided on a new bedcover.



Here's the start of my "Sediment Scraps" blanket/throw thing. The working name for it is Puddingstone.



A close-up view of the latest rows added. I'm just a little short of 1/2 way done with what looks like either a 60" square coverlet or even rug, it's so heavy.

There's no rhyme or reason to the color scheme; am just picking the colors as I go along. Don't know that the transition from greens to purples in the early stages is very successful, but am not too worried about it. It's kind of fun to see how this progresses. Also, a bit weird: each time I grab a new bit of yarn to tie onto a knitted end, I feel like that guy who got transported to his childhood home during teatime. (Sometimes pleasant, sometimes not.) If I had the gift of putting as inneresting a spin on my memories as he could his, I'd knock off a volume or two myself. Think I should just stick to knitting for now, though.

Anyway, while rooting around for another something to add to the above yarn stew, happened on a lovely, forgotten bit of silky stuff I'd received in a gift package some time ago. Now, I have the hardest time using yarn that friends give me because I don't think I can do justice to the gift (strange, I know). This, though, was kind of calling out to my hands to play with it, it's so soft. Seemed, too, to want to be something lacy, in spite of the fact that I don't normally like to use variegated yarns for that (often distracts from the stitch work).



Pam Allen's Little Arrowhead Lace Shawl, available here for free. Why not give it a try? Seriously, it's a good beginning exercise in chart-reading. The yarn's Noro's Silk Garden in a beautiful scale of sandy tones.

Since Karen's birthday was a couple days ago (same as Grandma Double-Vey's), figured I would send this out to her. She normally likes really bold colors, but I think that this could hold its own against her. For some reason, too, she was the first person who came to mind when I started the project.

***

Don't know if I'm regaining the Sea Legs; hope so. I really do hate it when I lose the taste for doing stuff that normally makes me so happy.

Sorry to take so long to get back. Family's being Family as per usual, and am responding to that as though I'd never learned my lessons with them. So - am putting something up to divert thoughts and to leave people with a happy feeling. (Hug! Help!)

Speaking of Green - Speaking of Magic

Isn't it amazing how what comes off the needles looking like this



Ends up like this after a good soaking and pinning?



Gosh, I love knitting lace; it manages to calm me down when nothing else seems able to (of course, am also happy to have something to show for my work; that's always nice). Love blocking lace, too, as it effects such a transformation.



Really, really enjoyed this project. Heck, was such a joy to work, it practically knitted itself. The pattern is Evelyn Clark's Flower Basket Shawl, and I knit it with Knit Pick's Palette in green tea heather.

Am nearly halfway done with the final lace chart on my Traveling Woman scarf. Cannot wait to get this thing off the needles. Honestly think the yarn's cursed (was originally for a pair of socks I'd intended for someone who isn't in my life anymore. Hate having stuff lying around like that.)

Almost Forgot:

Modular Lace using Short Rows.

What this means, essentially, is that you treat the circle like a pie and you treat the spokes like individual, but attached, pie pieces:



Knit from Lion's lovely organic cotton string. I think I used almond here. The doily didn't turn out as I'd wanted - meaning, there were a couple too many rows, so it looked like a princess with a cleft palate or something. Ended up giving it away to someone who seemed pretty happy with it, though more for the time spent on knitting it than anything else, I think.

Couple things came to mind while I was knitting this one. First, that favorite verse from the Tao Te Ching that I'm always quoting. Second, Sunshine:



How much are the guitar's arpeggios and arabesques like the above's knits/purls/yarn overs/k2togs?

Lace.

I'm smart, but feel dumb most of the time. Far more adept manually than what I give myself credit for, am easily intimidated by anything that looks 'too hard.' What is too hard, though? Especially in terms of knitting.

Started knitting some basic lace patterns back in the day when we could bring knitting on airplanes. I liked that it both occupied my hands and kept me focused mentally when nervous fatigue would make reading, for example, impossible. Last year, got through two gorgeous scarves: Falling Water (first lace ever!)



Katia's Alpaca. This languished for nearly a year before I got up the energy to block it. It's currently on pins and wires in my room as I type.

and Nancy Bush's Stork's Nest.



My version: knitted with some lovely-looking, but kind of difficult stuff from Vermont. The color name is "antique brass." Love that.)



Where's my closeup?! Close up!

Both took forever because I saved them for flight/airport time, but both were incredibly satisfying and made (in my opinion) lovely gifts.

Was really pleased with the flat-knitted results (especially when, after Falling Water, I figured out how to do purls without twisting the stitches. This may seem obvious to 85% of the population, but I'm left-handed, so was a bit of a casse-tête.)

Anyway, based on all this success, decided to take thing further and try a circular (yes, like a doily) bit of lace. The joy of this is not having to purl every other row unless it's germane to the pattern. Decided on Brooklyntweed's interpretation of Hemlock Ring:



My dad was kind of nonplussed by this project as, during a difficult family time, I was cursing like a stevedore late at night when everyone was trying to sleep. Found some errors in the pattern, y'see, and was having a hard time resolving them/'reading the lace'/concentrating in general. Lace problems: solved! Family ones?: Not so much yet, anyway.



Finished knitting in Fray-ance chez le Frenchie. Kind of fitting that I end up with a cabbage flower for un petit chou, non? (snort)



Aah, the magic of blocking!
Am so pleased at how this turned out. The Frenchie, also, as one can see.

You all saw what I did for me as a Birthday gift. Was down and out enough to not leave the house for a bit, but could still knit. Decided to try the little bird spreading its wings on the needles construction, as that's kind of what I'm feeling like right now. A new friend's fearlessness and a free pattern (not to mention a huge stash of lace/sock yarn) are what's fueling the latest project:



The Journey of 400m Begins with But a Single Cast-On. It's called Mesange Bleue because "Blue Tit" is something that the 12 year old boy in me won't allow me to call it (snort).

I'd like to do a new lace project a month. Something that'll challenge me technically, hopefully, too. As I'm working on a new physical body as well (more later), would like to make some nice Summery stuff for me.

(We'll see, right?)

Early Birthday Present and a Nice Memory From a Past Life.



Sorry for the bad posture. I'm hunching because it's cold! Should have dressed warmer.

I've been bitten by the Lace Bug, which has sort of caused me to rearrange my knitting goals for this year. Made the above shawl from a pattern on Ravelry called 198 Yds. of Heaven. I didn't use anything luxurious, just a bit of my favorite workhorse wool. Am really pleased with the results; was so fun to watch the triangle form itself on the circulars.

As I did stretch myself a bit to learn a new skill, the yarn's color reminds me of the North Atlantic and I *did* buy the yarn near a reach, decided to name this first, happy attempt simply 'reach.'

Airplane Knitting.



Storks nests aren't covered in Audubon's survey. Figured the lace pattern inspired by their nests looked good against the book cover art anyway. The scarf's being worked in Green Mountain Spinnery's Sylvan Spirit, color Antique Brass.

When I fly, I generally plan for little if any human interaction. There's so much technology available on planes nowadays for shutting one's neighbor's out. (Doesn't help matters that am pretty painfully shy; shy to the point of looking rude.)

For the last trip, packed two sink-one's-teeth-into lace patterns and a couple of books I've really been savoring lately. Didn't make much headway into anything, as both flights were filled with much more social interaction than I'd have expected.

Was a bit surprised to see a familiar face in the security line at Logan: turned out that an old friend from school was heading out to wherever his company outsources their manoeuvre to nowadays. Since it was a jam-packed 747, about the only place we could go to catch up on things was in one of the emergency exit doorways in front of a toilet. Somehow we managed during our chat to not annoy anyone too much (I hope) and to not get cricks in our backs from standing hunched over for as long as we did.

Returned to my seat to the gentleman next to me rousing from a nap. "You're getting home late. Where were you all this time, Young Lady?" Told him that I ran into someone I'd not seen in like 15 years. He expressed (complimentary) surprise that I'd be old enough to know someone for that length of time. His wife, the graceful, egret-looking French lady next to him, laughed.

Over the course of the rest of the flight, learned an awful lot about them: where they worked, where they lived. How they met,* why they chose Boston for settling down, why they went back to France every year, etc. The lady seemed fascinated with what I was knitting, so showed her the pattern and talked about the yarn I was using, which came from a mill in Vermont. (Later learned that she had more than just a passing interest in Rudolf Steiner's educational theory; knitting's a major component of the curriculum.)

Of course, given that this was an Air France flight, we talked about the two downed planes earlier in the Summer. That led to talk about 9/11: they'd actually flown one of the first AA flights out of Logan after the attacks; said that it was a strange, but generally positive (and surprisingly spiritual) experience. Talked about air rage**, fears of stuff falling from the sky, our worries about the world in general. The news was just coming out about one of the Lockerbie bombers being freed soon, something no one was happy about.

Made it to our destination early, though had a fair wait in immigration due to something like six other planes arriving from different parts of Africa. Got to introduce my new friends to the Frenchie, who offered them a ride to their hotel. Turned out that they were going in exactly the opposite direction from us, so said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.

***

* The Frenchie, who's a 68er himself in spite of his denials, told me that how they met is a classic scenario for that generation.

** Over the past six flights, have seen three particularly pointed incidents, all with European males losing their tempers. The Frenchie tells me that American airlines have a bad reputation in the French papers for their tough approach to these situations. I don't like to make sweeping generalizations on these sorts of things, but am not so sure that cause-and-effect or an understanding that the world outside one's day-to-day might be different from what one is accustomed to are particularly valued/nurtured in this part of the world.

There is no my space, no our space. Only her space.



Ampersand reclining on a project that took forever to complete and which pleases me to no end. It's a simple garter stitch triangle (CO 3 stitches; sl 1, inc 1, k to end until desired length/width - I got sick of knitting at 200 stitches with a gauge of 4st/in unblocked. BO, block the heck out of it.) inspired by the wonderful, airy Morehouse designs and knit from some of the oldest yarn in my stash - two skeins of crewel wool that I'd bought at the Women's Educational and Industrial Union back when they had a store and were phasing out their needlework department. I'm calling it Wedgewood. (Stitches in more detail here.)

Though I realize that the spare bed is technically her territory, driving that point home by pretending to sleep on wet wool seems a bit silly.

When I posted on Cambridge Ladies at the poetry site, I was serious about belonging to an eco-exchange group. Here's how the net bag's progressing:



(Note the 1/2 a$$ed little stitch marker doodle. Was annoyed with it last night, but now think it's actually kind of cute:)



Am enjoying the pattern; it's not monotonous at all and is working up fast in the thick cotton yarn. Since I have tons of the stuff and I believe it'll take one skein per bag, one can guess what sort of gifts I'll be giving out in the foreseeable future.

Comfort.

My latest happy bit of airplane knitting is complete. Couldn't find the blocking pins, so just steamed it with the iron to get the lace pattern to show up better. It's going to look awfully nice with a white tee shirt or blouse, maybe.



Usually my knitting goes out to other people and the process of making something is like a prayer or a sutra to the intended recipient. Broke with this, though, when I first nuzzled the skein of silvery alpaca. It was so soft, so airy, and I really needed a bit of comfort.

Though I've got a ton of other things to work on, have decided to start another project for myself. There's no reason why I shouldn't benefit from my own good wishes. It's going to be lacy (meaning, will require a bit more presence than straight knitting) and it's going to be a nice Springtime-y, licheny green. Am looking forward to the process.