Mucking about in boats, er, knittingAnother lovely Wed. night, another fun couple of hours hanging around with some really nifty knitters. I'm feeling very lucky today. Thanks for putting up with me, folks.
When I got home, I did some more fooling around with the edging for my Almanac-a-long shawl. Yes, the February one. Shhh. It's the sort of leisurely, noodling knitting that feels just right for summer time. EZ's technique for this piece is really fun. I kept on going with it until I thought it'd block out to be a big enough shawl, and then did the bit where she says, quite suddenly and without warning, cast on another 5 stitches, and then work those as if nothing unusual has happened. It's a perfectly charming way to end without having to fuss with a bind-off. You just work those extra stitches in garter stitch, and every time you get to the spot where the next live stitch is back on the main body of the shawl, you k2tog with the end stitch of your garter stitch edge. Et Voila! Fun stuff. I had arranged things so that my k2tog happened on the wrong side, which of course leaves one with the bumps on the right side. Which for some reason I accepted as My Fate, at least for a few inches, and then--the duh moment. Oh, yeah. I could just .... not do that. Yeah. Uh, okay. Truly, I can't wait to wash the yucky machine oil out of this yarn and block the bejeezus out of it and see how it looks.
Here's step-by-step on the knitting of the edging:
And here's how it looks so far:
Thw whole enterprise reminds me of The Wind in the Willows, for some reason. Ratty heartily recommends messing around with boats, as I would knitting, really. And this is relaxed knitting I'm up to. And, well, there is the weasel connection, after all. I have a persistent mental block about the name of the author; I always think it's Graham Greene, and of course it's not, it's Kenneth Grahame. The edition I read as a child had a green cover, and "Grahame" on the spine, so my twisted little mind goes, oh of course green + Grahame.
I have a fantasy about keeping a pre-packed picnic basket like Ratty's in the book, for slinging into the car or just grabbing for random picnics. He's got pie, and jars of pickles, and cheese, plus all kinds of other stuff that I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole like sardines BLEH and cruelly hot mustard BLEH and anchovy paste BLEH BLEH BLEH. But the idea just captivates me, somehow.
I imagine I'd pack something exotic and marvelous to eat if I were to go to Burning Man (which The Tattoo Queen is, the intrepid dear lady). And for me, any excuse to plan great food, well, I'm there.
Reality? Well, DH would be beyond miserable, to the point of turning weird colors, no doubt, as would the children, and probably I'd forget Something Very Important. You know, like you do when you're trying to really not forget anything. Imagining it, though, ah! that's about right, at this particular time and place. We had an interesting attempt at Tanglewood last Friday night, which I DID pack great food for. But last Friday? More lightning than I've ever seen in my life. Monsoon rains. AND enough traffic to delay us an hour. So, sayonara, Mozart Birthday Celebration and stuff. And we'll try again another day. When it's not raining, preferably.
Ooo. One last thing: Interweave arrived today! And um, well, lookit page 75, y'all:
That's my design, that is. Pleased as punch weasel. A nice surprise.