Never Enough Wool

Tuesday is D-Day for me. I have announced to all and sundry that Tuesday would be the first day my new store is open. Whether I was really ready or not. Whether I had inventory or not. Tuesday was IT. I *WOULD* be open on Tuesday.

So my lovely husband and I have been working steadily and with great devotion to my store over the past two weeks. Last week's schedule was that days were spent installing siding at the job site. Evenings we were down at my store.

This week, push has come to shove. We've been down at the store working every day. Without fail. Getting lots accomplished, too, I might add.

Wednesday morning I arrived at my store and found this:

Cool, eh? A sign and everything. That must make it official that I am really, truly going to be opening a store!

The inside of the store has been a real challenge. There was a 30-year old carpet installed, along with a truly ugly counter. The walls were painting a purple-ish shade of white, with purple woodwork. Yes, I did say purple. It was hideous. And smelled worse. The former tenants were big fans of scented carpet cleaner, scented air-fresheners and perfume. I'm not terribly sensitive to smells, and even I was disturbed.

The carpet came up. The woodwork was removed. The walls were painted. The blinds were removed. The floor was washed. Then the floor was replaced with a laminate floating floor. Dead easy to install, very easy to maintain, and looks wonderful. See?
And finally -- the smell is gone! We had to clean the filter on the shop vacuum to get the last of the smell to disappear. But finally, it has.

Bell has come by and installed the telephone. We will be installing new woodwork this evening, painting it white, and then tomorrow -- store fixtures and inventory!

I will be open Tuesday!

I promise that this blog will not become devoted to my store. Granted, most of my knitting endeavours will revolve around models for the store. But I promise that I won't blather on about my next big sale, promotion idea, or push for visitors. I will talk about knitting, yarns and patterns.

Catching up on life.

It's been a long time since my last post. Partly my fault. Life has been busy. What with trying to finish up the siding job and get things moving on my store AND get the daughter started in school and getting her to and from her various jobs ... actual time spent sitting down at the computer to update the blog has been scarce.

Add to this the frustration that is Blogger. I read about many folks complaining about Blogger. Up til now, I haven't had the same frustrations. However, for the past three days I've had something to talk about, WITH pictures, and I couldn't get Blogger to accept the photos. Tried Hello. Tried through Blogger. Nothing. Finally I decided to try the upload by way of Microsoft (gasp! I am an avid Firefox user, not that I know much about it!!) and viola! Today we have pictures. Would this have worked with Firefox? I don't know. I went straight to Explorer.

So I have been working on a tee-shirt from the Yarn Girls Guide to Beyond the Basics. It is a variation on a basic tee, made by adding a role of eyelets at the hem, midway up and the collar.

Here you see it lying on the blocking board.

I wish I could remember what day I cast on. I don't. But I do remember the day I finished it. September 20. I had to modify the pattern a bit because the yarn I chose did not get the same guage that the pattern specified. I used a yarn called Reflections, which was a 55/45 cotton/viscose blend. I really like the shine that the viscose brings to the fabric. Using an American size 4 needle, I worked at 6 stitches to the inch, while the pattern specified 5 stitches. A little math later, and I was good to go.

I hate seams. So much so that I oped to knit the design in the round rather than back and forth.

"I knit socks on (American) size 2 needles, so this should be a breeze," I thought. Well, with socks you see progress immediately and impressively. With this many stitches, you don't. I am heartily sick of stockinette stitch at the moment.

These pictures really don't do the tee justice. It is a beautiful royal blue, and the cotton and viscose make a gorgeous fabric. Beautiful drape, classic design. I rarely wear sleeveless tops since I don't like the look of my upper arms. This one was the exception.

I would show you a picture of me wearing the tee. Unfortunately, Blogger and I are still having words over photos and how they upload. So you'll have to make do with these crummy shots. Sorry.

There were also going to be some photos of Henry exploring the time-out box (cat carrier) but Blogger inexplicably decided to delete it. There was also a photo of my daughter displaying her wild side. It's not here. Same reason.

And if I ever figure out how to control the order in which photos appear ... I had five photos, selected in a specific order to match my anticipated prose. They appeared in the post out of order. And in trying to get the photos back to my planned order, I lost three of them.

Ah well.

In other news -- Things I learned this summer:

1. I CAN climb up to the third level of construction scaffolding and be comfortable, as long as the platform is not at the highest level of said scaffolding. (Imagine a photo here of myself sitting nonchalantly on the platform, my knitting and cup of coffee at my side.) The siding work progresses, despite setbacks. It turns out that pine siding covered with stain (not paint) requires double nails to keep it from bowing, etc. Doug is off installing the second set of nails and rebuilding scaffolding this morning. I will join him shortly.

2. I really miss bike riding. Since the advent of the siding work, I have been physically exhausted and not contemplating a bike ride at the end of the day. My feet hurt. My ankles hurt. My ankles hurt so much that I now have a ganglion on the inside of my left ankle. (Imagine a photo of my ankle with the lovely addition of the ganglion. Man, are my ankles bony!) Since I've had one on my wrist, I should've suspected that I could get them on my ankles as well. Oh well. Better arch support and shoes will help that problem -- as in keep it from getting worse and developing one on the right ankle. And the siding work will be done soon.

3. A 35-year-old trailer with 600-lb. springs can only be overloaded so many times. Yesterday was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. (Imagine here a photo of said trailer with a broken spring and a ruptured tire.) We had been to Toronto to visit my doctor and I suggested a quick trip to Ikea. I imagined picking up the long-sought foot-stools to my Ikea Poang chairs and more window shopping for stuff for my store. Instead, we bought a shelving unit, a cart of wood cast-offs, AND the foot-stools. (Imagine here a photo of the trailer and car loaded to the gills.) Of course, we had not planned for a shopping spree and had not brought the trailer with us. Doug left me at Ikea with my knitting to guard the purchases while he raced home to retrieve the trailer. Two hours later, he showed up in front of me only to hear "I can't move -- I'm knitting backwards! Like a good sport, he went and purchased a cinnamon role and daintily (NOT!) fed me bites while I finished tinking. On the way home, the trailer had its mishap with the spring. And with no spring, the trailer rested its fender on the wheel, resulting in the tire rupture. It was an interesting day.

4. You can use a second trailer to haul home the first broken-down trailer. I know. (Imagine a photo here.) We did it. The second trailer had no lighting system. So we raced back to the abandoned trailer before dark, loaded it up, plugged in the lighting system, and drove carefully home. I'm glad we weren't stopped by the local constabulary. It would have been interesting. The trailer with wheels on the ground did not have brake lights, but the passenger trailer did. And they worked. The trailer on the ground did not have a license plate. But the passenger trailer did. And, even better, it was the plate that officially belonged to the trailer on the ground. I think the policeman would've been too busy laughing at the day's adventure to write a ticket. But we'll never know since it didn't happen. (Thank goodness!)

Work on the store continues. We have painted the walls a beautiful blue. The ceiling will be primed tonight, as will the area around the front window. We have ordered the flooring and it will be here Monday. One set of display shelves is already there, courtesy of the broken-down trailer. I will retrieve the others, along with inventory, once the floor is installed. Then I can start stocking and setting up. I am SO excited! I will officially be open on Tuesday, October 3. I anticipate a grand opening celebration sometime in November.

Whew. I shouldn't go so long between posts -- or I should lead a calmer life!

Not much knitting around here ...

Because --

My husband and I have been working on siding. This involves chop saws, jig saws, hammers, nails, scaffolding and ladders. By the end of the day, I'm so exhausted that I can barely eat dinner, let alone sit down and knit. So the knitting projects have come to a pretty decisive slow down.

I have finished a hat and pair of mittens to be gifted at Christmas. Pictures? Well ... husband took the camera with him to fishing camp. (The daughter is snorting at the thought of calling this a camping experience. When one takes a 4-liter bag of milk with him, it canNOT be called camping!) Husband does not fish ... in fact, I believe he didn't even take the fishing pole with him. So basically it's a l-o-n-g weekend away with friends. He deserves it. No one should be obliged to live with me full-time, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Not that I'm tough to get along with, mind.

In husband's absence, daughter and I went into town to my soon-t0-be wool store and set to work on the demolition phase. Ripped up the yucky carpet, took off the piece-of-crap molding holding the carpet down, cleaned the plate glass window and started work on destroying the left-behind counter. All in all, quite an enjoyable experience. Turns out the daughter is actually pretty good with a small pry-bar. One of her favorite experiences, in fact. Hmm.

Oh ... you wonder about the soon-to-be wool store comment. When my favorite local yarn store decided to go out of business, I debated a long time about opening a store myself. I've visited the stores near by. Not that they are bad, but none of them felt like home to me. OK to visit, but not somewhere that I could sit and knit and laugh myself silly.

I dutifully put my university education to work and drew up a business plan, complete with projected budget and marketing plan. Still unable to decide whether to press forward, I finally put it in God's hands. If this was something He would support, he would help me find a store location that would be both affordable and feasible as a yarn store.

Well ... not a week later, I found a location that fit the criteria.

Today I went back to my favorite shop and spent an enjoyable day sorting through the wool and chatting with my friend. We discussed wools that sell, wools that don't. Designers that are wonderful, and designers that aren't.

And I selected wool. Lots of wool for my soon-to-be-shop. Lots and lots and lots of wool.

I am SO EXCITED!!!

So what DO you do when it's too hot to knit?

I don't know about anyone else, but when it's too hot to knit I ...finish small projects that have been hanging around for far too long. Small items -- ones that don't take too much lap room. You know -- like this:

This is a baby set for my sister's new baby. Once we know if it's a girl or boy, the proper ribbons will be threaded through the eyelets and -- viola! Instant gift!


Accompanying the baby gift will be the sweater above -- just right for a big sister. I posted a picture of it sans buttons. But with buttons -- it's wonderful.

In other projects, I finished off a baby set for the Durham Crisis Pregnancy Centre.

Last but not least -- I finally finished up the surprise for my daughter-in-law. The cami was made in a lovely cotton from Sirdar. Just right for those hot summer days, don't you think?
So what do YOU do when it's too hot to knit?

Too hot to knit

The last few days have been beastly hot, with afternoon rain. Too hot to knit, in fact. And the outlook is for more of the same. What do you do when it is too hot to knit? Exercise, of course. And the preferred exercise in this household is mountain biking.

Sunday afternoon we ventured out for an afternoon ride. Sure, the sky was overcast and grey. But it had been that way for hours. We had plenty of time before the rain. We did the first half-loop. Great fun. Couldn't be better. Started for the secondf half.

Now, the way we ride this trail, there is a decision point. You can turn left and head immediately to the parking lot and be there in 5 minutes or less. Or you can turn right and continue your ride, arriving at the parking lot about 30 minutes later. We were feeling widely scattered sprinkles during our approach to this decision point. Very widely scattered sprinkles.

So we turned right.

Mother Nature was NOT amused. Not even a little bit. We hadn't gone 30 meters when the skies opened up. Torrential downpour. But -- hey -- we were hot and exercising so this was not a problem. We kept going.

Then Mother Nature upped the ante with lightning. Of course, we felt by this time that we had reached the point of no return and it would be a quicker route to the parking lot if we continued on. This meant, of course, that we could not stop at our usual resting points because they were on high ground, beside tall trees, and we were riding lightning rods -- I mean metal bicycles.

We persevered. We pedaled madly. We went through and around mud puddles. Lakes, more like it. And we ended up at the parking lot in a record 20 minutes. Of course, we had no clean clothes (there is no changing room). We did not have towels either, because the lake -- the reason for needing towels -- was at home.

We did what any self-respecting biker would do -- threw the bikes on the car, piled in, and headed for home. This is what Doug looked like.


You can't see it, but there was actually a very small dry triangle of material on the side of his legs. The shoes and socks had already come off. The socks were wrung out. He squeezed a good half-cup of water from them. Everything was completely drenched. I didn't look much better.

We jumped in the lake completely dressed. It seemed a good way to rinse some of the mud out of the clothes before laundering.

Did I mention that we had a dinner invitation that evening? We opted to take the dry car.

Lace Knitting

I enjoy knitting complicated patterns. Cables, yarn-overs, lace. The more the merrier. Traditionally, I have knit these patterns in knitting worsted weight wool. You know--wool with some substance to it.

At the Knitter's Frolic in April, however, I saw some absolutely lovely, to-die-for lace-weight alpaca. I don't knit with such finicky wool. Never have. And what do you do with a lace-weight wool except make scarves or shawls? I don't wear 'em.

But that alpaca called to me. All day. Softly and insidiously. Until I could resist no longer. Then I went searching for a pattern. Fiddlesticks Knitting Whisper Scarf.

Next I tried to find the perfect rocking chair. To no avail. But if I sat still the platform rocker was comfortable, the space inviting. The knitting alluring.

I finished the scarf and blocked the scarf. In this heat. But you know what? It was definitely worth it. This is the end result:

Truly awesome. Light and airy. Light enough that a poof of wind will make it flutter nicely. Small enough that I can carry it with me and admire my work. And show it to unsuspecting friends and neighbours.

The Yarn Harlot was asked once what her last project would be if she were limited to only one more knitting project. She thought a bit, and decided that a wedding ring shawl would be chosen, for a multitude of reasons. She's right. Lace weight beauty, requisite skills, and then the thrill of blocking.

Fortunately, I have another project on the needles already!

My sister is having surgery tomorrow, to remove the upper-left lobe of her lungs and remove the cancer. Please think of her and her daughter.

Knitters are such nice people

I've been teaching a knitting class at the Uxbridge Library, arranged by the Friends of the Uxbridge Library. The class is offered free of charge to interested patrons. The room is donated by the Library. And it gets me out of the house one night a week.

Last night was the official last night of the class. One of the "students" is a silversmith and operates, with her husband, a studio. She made a thank you gift for me and presented it last night. Imagine -- my very own silver stitch markers!

The class also gave me a nice card to say "thanks." Apparently they have figured out that I really, really like cats.

The students are becoming enthralled with the process of knitting. So much so that they have requested me to ask if it would be possible for us to continue meeting at the library for the rest of the summer. The library has very graciously given us permission to meet for the next three Thursday evenings. We'll see if the group wants to continue meeting beyond that.

I hope so. Knitters are such nice people.

Families -- Part Two

Remember my sister? The one out in Missouri who was having surgery for breast cancer? The good news is that the lumpectomy removed the entire lump, with clean edges. Which means, as I understand it, that the cancer had not spread anywhere. This is good news.

The bad news? She had a spot on her lungs that she had been advised was the after-effect of the pleurisy in January. She was having a routine recheck for pleurisy and complications, when the spot on her lung was observed to still be there. This was NOT the plan. The plan was that when the pleurisy was cleared up, the spot would go away. After testing and a biopsy, it was determined that the spot was, in fact, lung cancer.

The good news? The MRI did not show any spread of cancer to the brain. Apparently, lung cancer's favorite place to metastasize is the brain. So at least we have good news. Also in the category of good news is that a surgery on the lung cancer is scheduled for July 20.

My sister has one child--a daughter named Melissa. She is in the category of being a full-grown child. But she is still terribly distraught with her mother's health crisis. As a sister of the patient, I am terribly distraught. I cannot imagine what Melissa feels.

Unfortunately, all this health crisis is happening in Missouri. That is a long, long ways from Ontario. And I can't be there for them. At least physically.

Being sent with today's Canada Post, is this: a prayer shawl for Melissa. It's not much, but it's what I can do right now. Down the road? We'll just have to see. And pray for a good outcome surgically.

The shawl came from Stephanie Pearl McPhee's book, Knitting Rules. I used three balls of Lion Brand Jiffy and some white yarn from my stash.

Houston, we (may) have a problem.

The stash:















The stash containment system:














Does anyone see a problem here?

A Yarn Haul Without Comparison

My favorite yarn store is, regrettably, going out of business. I am broken-hearted at the thought of losing this priceless resource.

Of course, with the imminent demise of my favorite shop, it was imperative that I make some purchases to tide me over until I find another favorite yarn shop. Or open my own. But that's another story.

So today I went out to the shop and this is what I got:


In the upper left corner you see balls of red, gold and white Zara along with a ball of green wool acquired at the Knitter's Frolic. These are destined to be a sweater for Doug -- along with a lot of other balls of green.

Immediately below the Zara is a hank of yellow/cream baby alpaca. This will be mittens for the upcoming winter.

Lying next to the alpaca are two balls of alpaca in lovely jewel tones. These will become either mittens or a hat.

The mauve is an alpaca/silk blend, destined to become a sweater shown in the current Interweave Knits. For myself, if you can imagine.

There are two hanks of hand-dyed alpaca, crying to become a shawl.

Two balls of Regia silk, planned to be a pair of socks for Doug.

Three balls of cotton, which want to be a summer top.

Eleven hanks of a lovely cotton blend which also want to become a summer top.

There are some balls of Debbie Bliss cotton/angora blend which will become a summer top.

There are also ten hanks of Silky Wool which will become a wonderful top for me.

So much knitting, so many fibers. My mind went into overload and I couldn't give you a careful description of them.

Sigh. I'm in heaven.

Learning about myself

Apparently, not only can I be bought (see previous post on June 15), I am also not trustworthy when visiting yarn stores.

You see, Stephanie hosted her birthday party at Lettuce Knit in Toronto. Using the excuse that I wanted her autograph, I hied down to Toronto and perused said yarn store.

Honestly, these skeins just followed me home. Er ... they jumped into my arms, begging to be welcomed into a happy home. (Never mind that Stephanie and I dumped the basket holding the alpaca yarn onto the floor with our fondling. Nor the flailing elbows that prevailed around the basket holding the other.)

So what you see here is the result of my trek to town:
On the left you see two skeins of Misti Alpaca, 100% baby alpaca. The colour is actually more of a buttery yellow, and the texture is to die for. I now own 800 meters of this delight, and am contemplating a shawl.

On the right you see one skein of Seasilk, from Handmaiden. This fiber is 70% silk and 30% Seacell. The fiber purportedly exudes vitamin E while you are working with it and while wearing the finished product. We'll see. All I know is that it reminds me of my trip to the Caribbean last year with my daughter.

Honestly, they followed me home!

Thursday already?

So where in the world does time go? I can't believe it's been so long since my last post.

What's been happening in the meantime? Well, I've been helping out a friend at her yarn shop. Yes, it is now official. I CAN be bought. I've also started teaching a knitting class at the Uxbridge Library, jointly sponsored by the Friends of the Uxbridge Library and Yonder Yarns. That does take up some time.

My younger sister announced that she is expecting a baby this fall. This means that not only do I get to knit for a baby, but I also get to make things for the neice as well. After all, one mustn't forget the new big sister, right?

Here you see Emery's sweater. The pattern is from Sirdar, #3061. It is a reasonably easy pattern, both to read and to knit. Be aware, however, that the pattern details have been omitted from the sleeve directions. The mistake was quite easy to spot, so I didn't have to spend much time making corrections.


The yarn itself is Magic Garden Classic, a super-wash wool. The colour is just scrumptious. The yarn was purchased at the Knitters Frolic last April. The sweater is seen here pre-blocking. I also need to find the perfect buttons. Any ideas? The neice is 4 years old ...

I also discovered that my guage was strange with this pattern. I've been doing pretty well, getting guage. With this pattern, needle and wool ... I basically ended up using the stitch numbers for the size 1-2 year size, and using the length directions for the 3-4 year size. I really haven't experienced this before. But it worked, so I guess I can't complain. Well, I CAN. I'm just not planning on it.

In other news ... the Yarn Harlot's birthday was Wednesday. She celebated by having a party at Lettuce Knit in Toronto. Just because I'm a wild and crazy kind of person, I decided to go. I took the GO train from the Oshawa station to the Danforth Station, walked up to the Main Station of the TTC and rode the subway over to the Spadina Station. In a perfect world, I would've then gotten on the Spadina streetcar and had a pleasant ride to the proper cross-street.

Instead, I missed the transfer to the streetcar and started walking. Now, it is legend and well-known amongst my family and friends that I am totally directionless. So of course I turned the wrong direction out of the subway station and started walking. After two blocks I realized that the sun was setting on my left ... which meant that I was walking north. This knowledge really pleased me since I am so directionless. Unfortunately, the store is located in Kensington Market which is south of the Spadina station. I turned around and started walking south. Along the way, I saw a beautiful double rainbow. It was getting close to 9:00 pm, and I was afraid that I would miss the festivities, but at least I saw the rainbow. It was worth it.

I arrived at Lettuce Knit and discovered that the festivities were just warming up. Stephanie handed me a beer and welcomed me. I perched next to a couple of new friends -- also knitting baby projects. Melanie, who was gracious enough to see that I boarded the proper streetcar at the end of the evening, had a baby bootie in her bag. It was knitted but not seamed, as she was not sure that it really was a bootie. I showed her that it was, loaned her a needle and scissors, and made a new friend. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to get an e-mail address. If anyone knows who she is and how she can be contacted, it would be great if you could share with me.

Finally, after consuming the beer donated by Stephanie and having some munchies, I asked her to sign her book for me and pose for a photo. She did. I am so lucky. And Stephanie is truly a wonderful person.

Stephanie says "Same time, next year." I am *SO* going to be there.

In search of the perfect rocking chair

I don't know about anyone else, but I know that I love rocking chairs. In my humble opinion, the world would be a lot better place if we all sat down and spent some time in a rocking chair, sipping tea, and even knitting a row or two. The problem with this (and it pains me greatly to admit that there is a problem) is that a good rocking chair is difficult to find. Difficult? Try nearly impossible.

In my house, there are currently three rocking chairs. All purchased with me in mind, and purchased by me. Tested beforehand, I might add. These chairs are sly and sneaky. They test out perfectly fine in the store or at the yard sale. Once convinced they have a safe home, they morph into evil beings.

For instance, take this chair. This is an Ikea chair. My son and daughter-in-law have two of them at their apartment. I sat in them and rocked. They were wonderful. Quiet and comfortable. I even knit at their apartment. The chairs there cooperated wonderfully.

So we purchased a pair of chairs, exactly like my son's, for our home. Unfortunately for us, this year the chairs seem to be the most popular chair Ikea carries. We managed to score the chairs and chair pads we wanted. After several trips to our local Ikea, we have even managed to procure the pads for the footstools. The footstool itself? Not to be found. Scarce is an understatement. We have been looking since last August. To no avail. The chair would be just fine with a footstool. Without? Well, I'm not the tallest person in the world. My feet don't quite hit the floor, and the chair cuts into the back of my knees. Besides, and this is not the fault of the chair, this chair is in the middle of my living room. The daughter does her homework on the floor right in front of this chair. The television is 8 feet away. The stereo is likewise 8 feet away. One or both of them seem to be constantly in use. For lace knitting, this arrangement leaves a lot to be desired.

To obtain the necessary peace and quiet for lace knitting, I often retreat to the bedroom. This is a parental oasis of calm and quiet. No children are permitted, except by special dispensation. Only one cat is allowed in, and she is the quiet one. One would think that the atmosphere would be conducive to lace knitting. Wouldn't you?


One would think. However, the bentwood rocker has other ideas. It squeaks on the backward motion, and it squeals on the forward motion. I still haven't figured out how, since there are no moving parts. But squeak and squeal it does. I suppose if I rocked in a constant, even motion no one would mind. But I seem to rock furiously -- probably when I am on the return row which has no yarn-overs or knit two togethers. Then I rock and pause, rock and pause. Followed by furious rocking.

This drives my husband crazy. It doesn't do my mental state any good either. Squeak. Squeal. Squeak. Squeal. Kind of defeats the relaxing purpose of knitting.

So I went searching for a rocking chair that would not squeak. I wandered yard sales, hoping for that elusive perfect rocking chair. This chair followed me home one Saturday.

At its previous home, it rocked quietly. Smoothly backward, smoothly forwards. And silently. The owner claimed to have rocked her babies in this chair. Quietly backward, quietly forward. I tested it. Really. Tested it thoroughly, I might add. And it was quiet. So I plunked my hard-earned cash down and brought it home.

My lovely husband carried it upstairs. I lovingly washed the cushion covers so that they would not smell. I started my Fiddlesticks Knitting Whisper Scarf out of lace-weight alpaca from Silver Cloud Alpacas. And the blasted chair squeaks. Horribly. Even if I'm not moving! How does it do that?! Oh, I've figured out that if I sit in exactly the right spot, with my left foot in the perfect place on the floor, my right foot in its precisely proper position, with my tongue pushed firmly behind my top front teeth, the chair does not complain. But have you tried to knit lace under those conditions? Impossible, I say.

There will be a yard sale Saturday in Port Perry. There is a better-than-average chance that you will find at least one rocking chair there!

Families

You know, there is nothing like a family. Sometimes they drive you nuts. Sometimes you just love them to pieces. You don't get to choose your family. It just is. From the minute of your birth, until the end of your days. Friends -- yeah, you can choose them. And you can unchoose them if you want. But family is forever.

And there is something else about families, well, my family anyway. We just don't seem to stay in touch very well. I have a sister out west who met my daughter for the first time at my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. The daughter was 12. We don't snail mail very well. We don't even e-mail very well. To make it worse, we don't even telephone each other very well.

Until illness strikes. When my mother was ill, we were talking several times every day. Until we all met at the hospital and spent the last days together there. Then everyone went home and we vowed that we would stay in touch. And we did, for a short time.

And then we slipped into our old patterns of non-communication. Sure, there was the occasional e-mail and the even more rare telephone call. But really? We just didn't communicate.

My sister has had a rough 2006. She spent some time in January in the hospital, culminating in open-chest surgery to relieve the pleurisy. Followed by plenty of follow-up. And she quit smoking!

As part of the follow-up, she went for her (first) annual physical in five years. And they found breast cancer. Fortunately, it appears to be easily resolved with a lumpectomy and radiation. But there is still a spot on her lung as well. Scarey stuff. And she is way out west, a two-day drive from family. I can't be there for her, as much as I want to. So I made this:


The Clapotis that everyone else has made, except that mine is filled with prayers for healing, good health, and love. Lots of love. Lots and lots of love.

The yarn is Sirdar Supersoft Toddler Aran, acrylic and washable. It seems my sister is allergic to wool. Wouldn't it have been awful to have made the shawl in wool, only to have her break out in hives on top of everything else? I wouldn't do that to my sister, even on a bad day. The garden belongs to my neighbour, and it is as beautiful as it appears in the photo. Thanks, neighbour, for the loan.

I will thrum no more, forever

This is a paraphrase of Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce. Here you see my abortive attempt at thrums. This is the ribbing and eight rows of a thrummed mitten. All done perfectly and well. At least I think so, but I've never done this before so what do I know.

In any event, after this terrific endeavour at thrums, it was bedtime. So I slept.

I awoke the next day with pain in my shoulders. Aching, dull pain that wasn't serious enough to take medicines, but enough to make me cranky and irritable. (Children, be quiet! I'm not normally cranky and irritable! Really!!)

At first, I thought it was because I slept on my side at night ... I couldn't figure out why I would suddenly be sore. Did the futon lose all comfort overnight? And here I thought it would be a gradual process. Anyway, I thought about picking up the thrummed mitten again ... and with the first attempt to tear the roving into thrum-sized pieces, my shoulders REALLY hurt. I stopped.

The next day, my shoulders were feeling ... um ... better. After I had spent another night sleeping on my sides. And not thrumming. The second day was even better.

My conclusion? Thrumming is not gonna become my passion. Sorry to all my relatives who were hoping for warm winter woolen, thrummed mitts. Just can't do it. At least I can still knit.

(Was that sound a bunch of heart-felt sighs of relief?)

Last words of a lace knitter

For those of you who have wondered, after extreme research I have finally determined the last spoken words a lace knitter will utter. "Life line? I don't need a life line. " Inevitably, after speaking these words in a voice bursting with confidence, the knitter will realize that something strange has taken possession of her knitting. Instead of 37 stitches between the markers, there will inexplicably be 36. Instead of 9 stitches at the ends of the lace panels, there will be 7 AND 8. In other words, there will be a mess.

Further research has further shown that no matter how painstakingly the knitter tinks back stitch after tiny stitch, it is absolutely impossible to take only one row back. Because the mess that has become the knitting will inexorably slide down the knitting. Especially if the lace-weight wool is fluffy.

So ... one MIGHT ask how this painstaking research was accomplished. If one were truly crazy.
Because, you see, this research smacks plainly of the bitter voice of experience. (I did say bitter, didn't I?)

After days and days of tinking, counting, cursing, drinking, tinking, counting -- well, I am sure you get the picture. I finally have resolved the problems and been able to stop knitting backwards. What you see below is 101 rows of my beautiful, alpaca lace scarf.
Yes, after all this, I still love the project, the yarn and lace.

Have I mentioned that my family swear that I am stark, raving mad?

Baby Overload

I've been knitting diligently on baby sets for the Durham Crisis Pregnancy Centre. I enjoy making baby things because they go so quickly -- even with the teeny, tiny needles and light-weight wool. I also like the feeling that I'm doing something good for the world, by showing the clients of the Centre that someone really does care about them. Will it help? I certainly hope so, but I have no way of knowing.

This week I finished up this little set. I found the leaf-pattern on the sacque yoke and hat to be adorable. Easy to knit too, which was a bonus. The lace pattern in the body of the sacque? Well, let's not talk about it. Easy to do, and yet not. Every row was different, every row required counting, every row threw me a curve. Glad to be done, that's for sure.

The pattern came from Paton's Book No. 111 titled Nursery Styles for 3-12 Months by Beehive. A classic publication, which I believe dates from the 60s. Possibly a bit later, but I'm not certain. All I know is that the little sets are mostly adorable and I'm itching to try another one.

Last week I finished up this little blue set from the McCall's baby book that I use frequently. The picture doesn't do the colour justice as the colour really is a soft baby blue. I've made this set previously (in pink) and originally found the lace pattern frustrating. Actually, it is easier than the pattern shown above. Ten rows, six of which are knit straight across. How much nicer can that be?

Again, this set will be going to the Durham Crisis Pregnancy Centre.

In other news? My sister has announced the impending arrival of Baby #2. I'm so excited! This means that I simply *must* make something for the new baby, as well as big sister Emery. Of course, this also gives me a reason to browse through my (extensive) pattern collection and plan my next projects.

And finally the big news -- in less than 30 days my son will be home from Mexico! Only an eight-hour drive away, instead of multiple days. He has had a grand adventure and enjoyed himself. He lived through home-sickness, language problems, and Montezuma's Revenge.

And thrived. Doesn't get much better than this.

Trillium time in Ontario

Springtime is a lovely time of year. The lake thaws, the geese and ducks come back. We see the occasional loon floating by. We even have a heron that lives near and we see it flying back and forth in its search for food. A couple nights ago Doug saw an otter fishing in the weed bed out beyond our dock. The grass is turning green and we are even getting some new grass in areas seeded last fall. The trees are turning a luscious shade of electric green as the leaves start to form. The cats are going crazy -- they can't wait to get outside in the morning to see what adventures await them.

And what do we people do to celebrate spring? We go mountain biking. Sometimes we even manage to not fall off the bikes. Today was one such day. We did the eastern loop of the conservation area park near us. There are some amazing up-hill climbs, followed by some truly exciting downhill rides. And then there is yet another reason to ride here:

Ooops. Not that! That's me recovering from the killer up-hill.

THIS is the reason to ride at Long Sault Conservation Area. This field of trilliums is hiding way back in the trail system. To access it, one must navigate some truly challenging hills. Both up and down. But once you get here, it is all worth it. Trilliums as far as the eye can see.

The other reason to ride this part of the trails? It's filled with poison ivy later in the year. Doug and I both seem to react amazingly well to it ... so there is only a brief window of opportunity to explore this side of the park.

Today the trilliums were worth every panting effort.

A bicycle possessed

Carrie has decided that she likes mountain biking. This is way cool, because it means that we can all go mountain biking as a family activity.

Normally, this would be a really good thing. But for Carrie, mountain biking is becoming fraught with peril. Do you remember Calvin & Hobbes? Calvin's bicycle was possessed, and pursued him through various comic strips? And then the father went mountain biking and came home rather battered and bruised?

It seems that Carrie's bicycle is closely related to Calvin's. It is possessed. We went biking at Long Sault Conservation Area yesterday. It was a beautiful day -- sunny and warm. Perfect biking weather. We pedaled through the first half of the ride. Things were going well. Carrie had even pedaled up the first (killer) hill without stopping. Life was good.

The next stretch of the trail is referred to as "Joanna's Run" at our house because it is our friend and neighbour Joanna who introduced us to it. There's a challenging but do-able uphill, followed by a long and winding downhill. Twisty and turny. And fast.

Carrie is not a total adrenaline junky. She uses her brakes on the downhills. She tries to be careful. After all, she has gone over the handlebars before. She did not like it.

Yesterday she started down the hill, using her brakes. Going down hill, even with brakes, one tends to generate speed. And with increased speed comes more difficulty making turns. And on one turn, Carrie actually went a little wide. In the process of getting back on the trail ... well, no one really knows what really happened except the bike -- and it's not talking.

When Brandi caught up with her, Carrie was lying on the trail. The bike was doing a victory dance on Carrie's head. Carrie was face down, with her head pointing up the hill. The bicycle had her left foot pinned between the handlebars and the crossbar, and the back wheel (as mentioned previously) was bouncing on her head and shoulders. This part can be proven as there is a definite tire tread on the back shoulder of her shirt.

The good news? (I'm not sure that it really is good news I might add.) The bicycle was not damaged. The bad news? Carrie has a sprained left knee.

But you know what is truly way cool? Carrie wants to go biking again.

And for the record -- we are planning to get some holy water to sprinkle over the bicycle. It can't hurt, right?

Snuggles and Shawls

You know, I just don't get this picture up-loading thing. I tell the silly program to load one picture, followed by another. And I double check to see that the sequence is correct. But after it loads and I get to actually look at what I got ... the pictures are NOT in the order I wanted. I suspect that somewhere there is information on how to correct this. In the meantime, I'll just have to muddle along and try not to pull out my hair over it. Well, the brown ones anyway.


Henry and Meme are the best of friends. They do everything together. Even share the small kitty bed. I do note, however, that they are not sharing the bed and the sun-beam. Methinks it would be too warm for that this time of year!










I finished the baby set I was working on for the Durham Crisis Pregnancy Centre. This means that I get to start something for myself -- well, myself or my loved ones.

That alpaca yarn from the Knitter's Frolic called to me. Incessantly and without ceasing. In my dreams, I dreamt of alpaca yarn. Which can only mean one thing -- I must knit it.

This is 25 rows of my Whisper Scarf. Isn't this exciting? I wound the hank of yarn into a centre-pull ball. By hand and without a swift. (The yarn-winder is in a box in storage. I don't have a swift. I hope one of my children or my hubby is reading this so they will know what to get me for Mother's Day!) Playing with the yarn was heavenly. So soft ... Unfortunately, by the time the yarn was wound my play time was over.

So today I sat down with my pattern and my needles. 25 rows! I am so excited!

We will be visiting friends tonight and sitting around a bonfire. Alas. This is not the project to take to a bonfire. Sigh.