Really?

Knitted skinny pants?

Surely you jest.

Reason #12 is so that I can mock others soundly. I feel that the people who read this blog are Stylish Knitters, in that we knit Things Worth Wearing and also Knitted Items That Are Nice Or At Least Humorous On Purpose (to be known as TWW, and KITANOALHOP, respectively). So when I see something knitted that is not in the KITANOALHOP category (just rolls of your tongue, doesn’t it?), then I feel like my ability to discern Good Knitting from Bad Knitting allows me to mock Bad Knitting with impunity.

(And sometimes I see these things not online, but in fashion magazines, and I think to the knitter, who of course can not hear me, “Knitter,” I say, “Just because you have 3000 yards of super extra jumbo bulky chartreuse wool and size 29 needles, does not mean you should knit a sweater with three arm holes and pockets. Tsk, tsk.”)

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Alas, poor Super Secret project, I knew you well.

Another person has been welcomed as a naturalized citizen of Bloglandia. Go check out her blog.

She’s not a knitter, but has other, equally interesting things to write about (I’m particularly fond of her post involving the caramel apple, seeing as I ate a portion and can attest to its deliciousness).

I fear that the Nine Taylors (which has been purchased and will be on its way to me soon) is the death of the Super Secret project. Okay, so maybe death is a little strong. Forced hibernation, maybe? Well, anyway, I am not very good at denying myself fun things (which is why I have eleventy billion projects going at any given time), and this thing will undoubtedly take precedence over all other things, including, but not limited to, sleep, food, and general well-being. I won’t feel the need to watch TV, though. That much is a good thing. I will make a valiant effort not to bring it to work with me. I will, however, bring it along on Thursday evenings to ringing practice, and make all the ringers jealous, and perhaps they will become knitters. And then maybe my husband will feel left out and want to become a knitter. I think that this was the plan all along.

(And I just won’t acknowledge the fact that I have eleventy billion projects in the works, making this eleventy billion and one)

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Still not a spinner.

And also, in denial. Swimming with crocodiles. That is to say, I bought a drop spindle made with a labradorite whorl, purely because it is shiny and on etsy and I had money burning a hole in my pocket (apparently).

And then there is this, which is completely unrelated, but is so terrible that it goes back to being awesome again:

“These are bugle beads.”

I’ve never laughed so hard in my life. Thanks to Katy for this.

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Awesome.

No, really it is.

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I love things like this.

You know what is also awesome? The second of the Super Secret projects (well, it was the first, but then I finished the second one, which was the tea cozy, and now it’s the second). I’m well on the way to finishing the first and largest piece of it, and am feeling pretty good about that. I’m also to the foot part of the Rivendell socks, and have all my knitting things in order, and found a hidden stash of cabling needles and stitch markers last night (they’re the cheap plastic/aluminum ones I got when I was first learning to knit, but hey, they work), and plan on teaching myself to use a drop spindle tomorrow, if the mood strikes me. I have a couple of bits of learning roving, so if I screw up while I’m learning, the husband will still have his scratchy wool gloves. And on that topic, why is it that he chooses the roughest, least comfortable wool for this project? I showed him a good deal of soft, lovely wool that I’d gladly dye for him, and he still chose the scratchy stuff. I suppose it’s better than mangy dead rabbit (and those of you who knit on Sundays at Knitch know what I’m talking about), but still. Ah, well. It must be that boy thing. He also likes the idea of re-upholstering everything in the house in faux alligator, so at least he’s consistent (I told him it would be awesome if he used the alligator to upholster the car seats).

When my camera is working again, I will most likely post photos. I am going to see if it can be fixed, and if not, I will then try to convince myself to purchase a giant fancy Canon SLR with equally fancy lenses. Until then, perhaps it’s time to dust of the old film camera.

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Giant pink bunny!

In Italy!

You can see it from space.

Kind of makes me want to try it (anybody want to donate several acres to the cause?).

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Hooray!

I got word today that the tea cozy I knit for the friend who moved to Brighton fits and is in use! Success!

See?

cozy in action by you.

It goes well with tea:

cozy with tea by you.

Thanks to Paula for photographing this for me. I’m glad it’s getting some use! How cozy is your tea, exactly?

(I know tea cozies are kind of a cliche gift to give someone, along with ugly ties and bad art, but in this case, it was the perfect thing for a new, more British life. Next, I plan on gifting tea towels and maybe a hedgehog.)

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OH HOLY MOTHER OF YARN (or Why I Knit, #11)

The Tsarina has truly outdone herself.

Change Ringing Socks

Back story to my excitement: my husband is a change ringer. He rings twice a week, and sometimes more often, and carries around his little tiny red book of methods, which he’ll pull out while he’s waiting for a tire change, waiting at the dentist, riding the train, etc. He pretty much lives ringing. I have a healthy appreciation for the art, having rung briefly both tower bells and hand bells (the English change ringing sort, not the melody sort). So I can completely appreciate this, and I might just explode from anticipation while I wait for everyone to buy all the patterns at Rhinebeck, so that I can mope later on.

Holy Mother of Yarn, indeed. Does anyone who reads this blog plan on going to Rhinebeck? If so, and I promise to gift you my first born child, would you bring one back for me? I’ll also trade for my soul or a portion of your travel expenses (and also I’ll pay you back for the kit). If not, I suppose I’ll just keep my fingers crossed an hope that there’s a kit available afterward (oh, please Holy Mother of Yarn, have mercy on me and my coveting).

(Things like this are totally reason #11 for Why I Knit).

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Why I Knit, #10

As if I needed another reason to buy things at IKEA. No, really. Apparently I do.

It’s a nice, easy thing to organize. I’ve got them arranged according to yarn type, and then probably color (though since I can see them all on Ravelry, that bit of organizing might take a while). I had one set of Expedit shelves (like these)

That I bought in the Scratch and Dent section, being a floor model and a little scuffed. I also bought some of the little plastic Lekvik drawers to go with it, and that is where some yarn is at the moment. Then I kept buying yarn, and I’ve outgrown the shelf, what with all the books on the bottom portion. So this past weekend, I bought another, plus some boxes with lids that I can label, and now I have a place for the sweater yarns and laceweight and roving (yes, roving – did I mention that I bought some and am learning how to use a drop spindle? no? well, I am).

Unlike the kitchen table, which overwhelms me with its sheer volume of unopened/opened mail and general flotsam, I feel like I have control over the yarn. It’s all in its own little ziplock bag, has its own little label (ball band), and falls neatly into a few categories, unlike mail, which is perplexing. I paid this bill six months ago. Do I keep it? Throw it away? Use it as cat litter? I think perhaps investing in a file cabinet would help.

Anyway. Back to yarn. I have five kinds: Sock yarn, laceweight, sweater yarn, roving, and nasty acrylic leftover yarn. The nasty acrylic takes up much more space than it needs to. However, when I needed nasty acrylic for a last-minute bridal garter (she threw it to people who don’t know any better, thank god), I had some. It had been a Dalek in a past life.

Katy's Garter by you.

See? At least it fit.

Anway. This evening will be more organizing of yarns, during which the sweater yarn will have its own box and I will feel much better, zenlike, even, for having put things in their places.

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Doug strikes again.

Seriously. They were purple, sparkly, and possibly contained crack. (And Olivia really is that bubbly).

[Today’s Devil’s Panties strip]

Knitters are all probably around 12 years old and male, secretly (I know I am).

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Knitch folks!

You’re in a comic. I don’t rememer Doug being quite this sassy, but I might have missed this particular conversation…

Link is here.

Oh, come on. You had to know that the comic artist taking photos at Sunday knitting was a sure sign that you’d be online in cartoon form at some point.

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