"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may"

Old time is still a flyin'.
For that same flower which blooms today,
Tomorrow may be dying.
-Herrick, Robert "To the Virgins, to make much of Time."

Yay! Today, I woke up and there was no pain in my left hand. Curling it was a little stiff, but no shooting pains. Much love to yoel for her cat sweater project which cheered me up. I crafted maybe a whole hour yesterday, and took it very easy on my left hand. By crafting, I mean I bound off on the front waistband of the vogue dress, and started on a crochet rose. It's loosely based off of A Rose By Any Other Yarn. By loosely, I mean inspired to think with yarn in 3D. I constantly forget that I am way better at crochet than knitting. The woman who taught me how to crochet taught me how to look at an object and determine how it was made - aka patternless crafting. I forget that I have that skill alot.

So, the "gather ye rosebuds" flower was born - or the Georgia O'Keefe rose. Once you see it assembled, you'll understand the reference. I didn't intend for the center of the bud to look so... well, similar to certain parts of female anatomy. Humor aside, it's a lovely reminder to take things easy. Aging sucks, my joints hate me, and I haven't hit thirty yet. It's to remind me that beautiful things bloom over time, and if I want to keep these skills, I have to work within my limitations. And probably pick up a regular exercise regime, that includes more than walking a mile around campus.

I haven't decided whether or not I will write the pattern for the rose. It's interesting to see it shape up to resemble our more modern rose, the hybrid tea rose. It's why I'm making up the pattern as I go along - the old Irish crocheted roses don't look like roses to me. When I thought about it, though, I realized that it wasn't modeled after the tea rose at all. The pointed bud shape of the tea rose is the product of much more modern breeding that only came about within the last century or so. The Irish rose was most likely modeled after the older varieties, like the floribunda. Actually, now that I've looked at one, I definitely see the resemblance. It makes sense, since the floribunda is a much hardier rose than the tea rose, and would have been much more common two centuries ago.

As for the rest of my projects, I think I bit off far more than I could chew with the f'ing deer socks. Colorwork and patternless socks? Ooops. The nail in the coffin was having him try on the first finished sock. Well, he tried to get it on, to no success. There simply wasn't enough stretch in the colorwork to fit his heel. I was sort of dreading making the color on the second sock anyways. Now that I know it doesn't fit, I think I might make a pair of normal socks first, before going back to these socks. The deer will have to be saved for another special occasion.

That, and I want to do reinforced heels on his socks. I don't learn, do I? Hmm, let's see - let's try a technique I've never done before in a pattern I've never done before. To make it more interesting, let's try it in fingering weight yarn! On magic loop! Brilliant! Sounds like fun to me. I needed to stop by a craft store today anyways.

Tragic Tragedies

I think I sprained my hand.

The thought of not being able to knit depresses me. I suppose it's lucky that it's my left hand, since I am right handed, but still. I rely on knitting to soothe me when I panic and pick me up when I feel like things get to be too much for me. Anyone familiar with me knows that I have crazy psychotic parents that were hyper-critical of their over-achieving daughter. I got grounded for getting a C in calculus - when I was a junior and high school and a whopping 17 years old. It was the first C I'd ever gotten in my life, a tragic black mark on my 4.2 gpa. To a certain extent, I've internalized that critical voice that tells me I haven't worked hard enough, haven't tried hard enough, haven't done enough, to achieve what I want to do. Intellectually, I know that the voice is wrong. Emotionally, it's enough to stop me from trying just so I don't fail.

Knitting gets me through those moments. I love being able pick up a pair of needles and some yarn and create things almost out of nothing. It reminds me that I can achieve things, and create things that no one can take away from me. I guess that's why I'm so strangely fearless with my knitting. Lace Vogue dress pattern? Hell yes, let's do that in 6 months! Why? In an emotionally immature way, I'm still rebelling, proving that I can because sometimes I believe that I can't.

I realize that there's some step past this, but I haven't a clue what it is. Before, I knew I had to learn to think for myself, make my own decisions and fail. But what do you do after? Is it like knitting, where you mess up, frog, and start over? And how do I do that without knitting?

I'm a little tea pot....

Well, actually, I bought one at target this weekend. It's adorable, it's part of those stacked tea pot and tea cup sets. I'm in love with it, mostly because it's microwaveable. Tea may be an old world comfort, but being able to heat water to boiling point in the microwave rocks. No more waiting 15 minutes for a cup of tea to finish boiling and brewing!

This, of course, has inspired me to knit a tea cosy. In doing so, I have discovered not only my faux brittish heritage, but the fact that I suck at reading cable charts. Thankfully, tea cosies are easy to make, and cable patterns are equally easy to fake. There are some absolutely adorable ones out there. My personal favorite was this gorgeous pastoral scene that someone had needle-felted. Atleast, I had the sense to realize this was way over my head.

As it stands, my tea cosy is half made, from leftover scraps of superwash wool. Which, I like, since I know it will get wet and dirty. The ability to throw it in the washing machine will make it quite, quite useful. And maybe, if I get really ambitious, I'll felt or full one of my own.

Obsessions....

All the girls at knitting club know this: I have a strange obsession with felting anything NOT wool. Alpaca currently is my favorite. However, I swatched yesterday, and oh dear god. Angora felts beautifully! It might have been the freedom spirit held together with the conejo yarn, that made it shrink so well, I don't care. But the angora halo made up for all the wool scratchiness. It was so yummy soft, that I'm contemplating using the rest of my scrap angora (I know, luxury fibers should not be scraps.) as the hat band in my newest cloache. I do have sad news about my latest cloache - it's lost somewhere in Detroit. May it find a happy home. Damn flights and tired brains that make me forget things, like my own hat in an airport.

So, to make up for it, I'm going to make another one. Of course. That's the beauty of making your own things... you can always make another. I'm resolved to use all my scrap yarn, however, mostly because I have a frightening amount of scrap. My scrap laceweight multiplies like f'ing tribbles. I have yet to run out of yarn for a project actually. Knock on wood, right? But I keep having substantial amounts of yarn left over from lace projects. How substantial? Enough to make other projects that are "supposed" to take up 100+ yds. Like fingerless gloves, and crocheted chokers. Grrr. It's getting a little ridiculous. I am trying to be a good knitter, however, my stash just won't go away. Take the Fit for a Boyfriend hat. It's *supposed* to use up a full ball of yarn. Yeah right. I have enough left over from 2 balls of yarn to make another hat. ANOTHER HAT. How ridiculous is that? I find this incredibly irritating.

As for the hat, I really should use my left over alpaca, mostly because the brushed suri alpaca isn't enough to make the hat. Oops. Ask me how I know.

Socks are going well, boyfriend's hat just has two ends to weave in, and my knitpicks cables are in the mail. Knitting's going well, it's that small side business that's completely slowed down. I haven't felt the urge to sit and draw logos for a couple of hours. Maaaaybe tomorrow. I hope. But it's the wonderful boyfriend's birthday tomorrow, and I really want to spoil him. He makes it very hard to do that. He refuses to let me make him breakfast in bed. How silly is that?

Ambitions....

Knitting resolution for this year: write a pattern and submit it for publication. Contestants so far, the leaf scarf is nearly done. I was smart this time and took notes the whole way through. All I have left to do is the last leaf, its crochet edge, and block. I love angora by the way, it feels fantastic. The other contender is the raglan lace shrug. It's been in hibernation for a long while now, so we'll see.

My other ambitions which may or may not kill what's left of my sanity are to make my own dress to wear to graduation. That's right, I'm graduating college. One of the numbers from Avenue Q keeps playing in my head, the "I wish I could go back to college" song. Thankfully, grad school applications aren't due till march/april, but it's really time to start looking. Oops.

The other ambition this year is to knit a shawl for a friend for her wedding - namely 'cause I can't afford an expensive wedding present. Yay work-study salary!

Color me this...

So.

I lost the adorable cloache hat somewhere in Detroit over the christmas holidays. This sucks lots, I know, but I've been debating a new hat ever since. Except I can't make my mind up over a design. I'm rather fond of the snowflake tam except I don't have the right colors for it. I suppose I could trade with one of the girl for a blue-varigated yarn. I don't know. I have creamy alpaca in fingering weight. I have red varigated wool in sock, and burgundy tweed in alpaca. All of which would be around the right size. I want a colorwork pattern with roses, but I haven't found a free one on ravelry. I could be crazy... and WRITE ONE. that is one of the goals of the year, to write my own pattern... and submit it for publication. Hmm. But I'd have to get some green for stashing. Damn.

But I'm supposed to do a knit along of the sterling cloche with one of the girls. But that would mean I'd have to buy yarn.

Buy yarn, use stash. A classic knitter's delimna. What to do, what to do...

Fuzzy Dreams

So, I read about all these wonderful things people knit for their home. The latest is house slippers which I crave because our first floor is very cold, despite our best efforts at insulation. The idea of toes wrapped in alpaca slippers sounds delicious - to me *and* my cat.

That's right. Delilah Damnit is aptly named because cursing usually follows her name. She likes to eat yarn. She likes to eat cotton. She likes to eat fabric. Hell, she likes to eat *plastic* for crying out loud.

We've tried cat grass, and that mostly curbs her appetite for roughage. Mostly. The occasional sock does make it into her mouth if it didn't make it to the laundry basket first. I guess that's why I don't bother knitting socks. I'd be sorely tempted to make fur lined mittens in a suspicious tabby shade if she ate a pair of hand made socks. Could you really blame me? She ate part of a baby sweater I'd made for my boss, so that's a gift that I'll have to remake. Nothing is safe from her voracious mouth.

So the dreams of a home filled with loving warmth will have to stay just that. Dream. Stupid cat. I fear leaving a knitted throw on the back of the couch. I'd just find it in her litter box for the next 6 weeks.