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blue ruche

Whilst wandering through ravelry’s new patterns last week I found the answer to my February lady sweater dilemma.  Ages ago, I bought the yarn and started the knitting the infamous cardigan.  While I love the sweater on others, I quickly realized that I wasn't at all loving the making of the sweater for myself.  The project was abandoned.  And then the tea leaves cardigan appeared. 

It's simple and lovely and the kind of sweater I will want to wear every day.  I bought the pattern in an instant, and then sat on pins until I could get home to my needles.  The new project has been with me ever since.  I’ve been sneaking stitches all over the place… in taxis, planes and cars; at the playground and the park; in meetings and workshops; during movies and games of bingo. 

I’ve made it through the ruched section and am on to the stockinette.  I quite like the top down approach, as I don’t have to anticipate a more complex yoke ahead.  I also like that I now have a simple project that I can steal away to here and there.  The world seems to be running by at a feverish pace, and I realize just how much I need a little something to remind me to breathe.

a treat

The big lake near my home is like a sea in so many ways, but it's not a substitute for the real thing.  When I saw that it was going to be warm in South Carolina this weekend, I packed our swimsuits.  I never imagined it would be warm enough to swim, but it was.  Halloween delivered tidal pools and seashells; back floating in the waves and sand between the toes.  The best treats, really.

october morning

This morning we walked through the woods, across the dunes and along the shore.  I can't imagine living far from the beach.

park point swing jacket

Another sweater, another journey.  I bought the yarn and swatched over a year ago.  Started the knitting in the dead of winter.  Stopped when I realized just how much I hated the drape.  Unraveled.  Started again with bigger needles and a double strand of yarn.  Moved on to other things.  Became increasingly uninspired to knit a bulky sweater as the ice on the lake began to melt.  But when the mornings began to hint of the coolness ahead, I picked up the needles again.  Quickly, the sweater emerged, thanks in large part to the thick yarn and big needles.

As I knit, I thought of buttons I purchased at a local craft fair last fall from Westside Beadery.  Barbara collects smooth dark gray stones from the shore of Lake Superior and somehow drills holes into them to create beads and buttons.  I've been keeping the small buttons for the right project, but kept coming back to the idea of having similar, though bigger, buttons from lake tumbled stones on this sweater.  Then I forgot to add the buttonholes. 

I unraveled enough to add one button, realizing that one would actually be better than the prescribed three.  I also decided that a big stone button shouldn't have holes.  After a little emailing with Barbara to see if she had any such buttons, it was determined that with a little glue I could easily turn a stone from my collection into a button.  I neglected to ask her what kind of glue to use.

Don't try to glue a metal hook to a porous rock with krazy glue or standard glue gun glue.  It won't work.  Hellbent on not going back to the store, I dug through the basement shelves and found some Gorilla Glue.  I dabbed a bit onto both ends of a flat metal hook from my sewing basket (one that you might find on a skirt or pants), clamped it onto the stone with a clothespin and crossed my fingers.  And it worked.  It's a bit ugly on the back, but we'll keep that as our little secret.

I fortified the button with a smaller button attached to the underside of the knit fabric, like you see on wool coats with big buttons.  And, since the sweater is double-breasted, I added a hidden snap to the side without the button so that the sides would hang relatively even.  The placement of the button and snap took some adjusting to get just right (the button placement is wonky in the photo with good light, and good in the photo with wonky light).

All in all, it was a satisfying knit and I'm pleased with the results.  I'm excited to have a sweater jacket for the fall and spring, and too, a thick sweater for those awful days in the middle of winter when I find myself wearing a hat in the house because I can't seem to shake the cold that settles into my bones. 

Many other interpretations of the pattern can be found on Ravlery.  My version goes a little like this...

pattern :: Drops Jacket with A Shape, size medium
yarn :: Cascade Ecological Wool; 3 skeins, double stranded
button :: fashioned from a rock collected somewhere along Park Point
needles :: size 13 circular
modifications ::  I knit the body in the round and the sleeves straight which made for some interesting assembly.  I opted for the function of long sleeves; the snow has already started to fall here, after all.  I would have made the collar taller, but ran out of yarn (I guess the sleeves didn't have to be quite that long).

this weekend...

... the invites were gocco'ed, assembled, addressed and stamped (with postage, and too, a tiny stamp carved by me);


...ugly apples from the neighbor's tree were sauced and pie-d;

...a sweater was finished. 

A feverish child was cuddled.  A new cook book was discovered.  The post office line was conquered.  Spiced biscotti were twice-baked.  Jerusalem artichokes were tried (and liked).  Really Rosie was rediscovered.  

And a photo was selected for the Shutter Sisters' Daily Click (so many thanks, sisters!!).

A full weekend, indeed.  I hope yours was restful and rich.

times two

We went to the woods twice in the last week.  Dropped the little one off at preschool and ventured out as we used to regularly.  Two daypacks.  A thermos of soup, another of tea.  Chocolate bars and salty chips.  Honeycrisp apples and peanut butter.  Knitting for the car.  Cameras for the trail. 

Oranges and yellows and reds everywhere.  That autumnal smell of decaying leaves.  Noisy birds feasting on mountain ash berries.  Quiet walking.  Uninterrupted conversation.

Today, on the Superior Hiking Trail, the far off sound of a foghorn.  We passed by a remote campsite and I found myself yearning to spend the night beneath the falling leaves.

outside and in :: orbs

Outside we found a familiar shoreline changed dramatically by wind and water. The beach around the bend we used to visit for collecting is now craggy rocks. The craggy rocks closer by are now surrounded by a beach for collecting. The great movement of rock revealed more treasure, including the mother of all beach marbles and one of her babes.

Inside the wild plums were readied. The longer the finished jam sits the more willing I am to accept the fact that the batch is only good if you don't let the tannic aftertaste catch up with you.  While making it I kept tasting, kept getting hooked on the sweetness of the plum paired with the fresh ginger, kept thinking of the jam slathered on homemade bread.  My resident testers immediately puckered their faces; and the less refined one spit her toast on the floor.  If time and temperature are yielding I'll go back to the tree and try again.  I so want gingered plum jam.

autumn's arrival

Fall has rooted itself on my doorstep.  I put on a scarf this morning.  And used the windshield wipers to wipe away the fallen leaves.  We're feverishly lining the pantry shelves and filling the chest freezer with preserved bits of summer.  Bedtime stories are read now with the light on.   We have what will probably be the last camping trip of the year planned for the weekend.  I've been knitting.  And the crockpot came out of hiding.  Sure signs.

And over in the shop, there's a bit of autumn captured on gocco printed note cards, available in sets of four and as singles.

What harbingers of autumn are at your doorstep?

august

August rushes by like desert rainfall,
A flood of frenzied upheaval,
Expected,
But still catching me unprepared.
Like a matchflame
Bursting on the scene,
Heat and haze of crimson sunsets.
Like a dream
Of moon and dark barely recalled,
A moment,
Shadows caught in a blink.
Like a quick kiss;
One wishes for more
But it suddenly turns to leave,
Dragging summer away.
- Elizabeth Maua Taylor

to do

Each time I've seen it done, I've been inspired to do the same.  Truth be told, I've also been intimidated.  Paralyzingly so.  But I'm putting that aside, because I'm not getting any younger, and each year that passes makes the list that much longer.  And so, here goes. 

Last night, on my birthday eve, I made a list of things to do in the next year.  Big things, small things. Creative things, professional things.  House things, family things.  Things for others, things for myself.  In no particular order, here are thirty-seven things to do before I turn thirty-eight:

: knit a little sweater :

: paint the kitchen :

: go on a winter beach vacation :

: write more letters :

: bike to work :

: make date night - and babysitters - a regular thing :

: find a gluten-free no-knead bread recipe :

: bake many loaves :

: sew a Poppy Doll :

: learn about German Passive Houses :

: get rid of those awful shelves in the bathroom :

: sew a duvet cover :

: create a seasonal nature table with my family :

: take a creative risk :

: carve stamps :

: jump often :

: reconnect with old friends :

: make a new friend :

: write in my journal at least every other day :

: make a tipi :

: sew myself a skirt :

: finish the stacked coin quilt for the little one :

: go on a solo backpacking trip :

: sell my printed goods in a local bricks-and-mortar shop :

: scan old photos :

: knit myself some socks :

: shoot more film :

: get comfortable on cross-country skis :

: pickle cucumbers :

: re-read The Artist's Way :

: sew potholders :

: purge fabric stash of stuff I don't love :

: dye fiber with plants :

: watch the full moon rise :

: get back to the thrity-two hour work week :

: screenprint fabric :

: say yes :