For you muggles who just tuned in, to “frog” is to yank the needles out of your work and pull until you get back to your mistake [“rip it, rip it”] and to “tink” is to undo the stitches one at a time [T-I-N-K = K-N-I-T, backwards]. This is the purple tweed yarn that started out as a somewhat skritchy scarf. I think it wants to be a pair of bulky socks when it grows up.
Here’s where I was when I realized I had overdone the shaping on Cuprit’s sweater. It might make more sense visually if you click to embiggen.
I used some of what I learned making the Sunrise Circle Jacket, and it was a great learning experience, and I still have oodles of time before Cuprit ships. I got a great shot of the revised sweater when I came home from church; unfortunately I had scribbled people’s phone numbers on the lower half of this page when I woke up from my nap on Saturday, and those numbers were all too visible in the photo. So you’ll just have to wait awhile.
Here is a shot of Larxene [Fourthborn’s doll] sitting on a shelf at work last Friday, looking supremely bored. She might have been sulking because I wouldn’t let her help me transcribe dictation.
Or maybe because I wouldn’t share my lunch: BLT on croissant.
A little blurry, perhaps, but it didn’t affect the taste.
You might be wondering what was going on with the pumpkins, et al, this weekend. Well, it has been feeling fall-ish in the mornings, and I wanted to swap out some of the decorative items. That was the impetus. And as I looked at everything, and how little space there is to display it here in the duplex [as opposed to two apartments ago, when LittleBit and I had 1080 glorious square feet to sprawl out in], I knew it was time to pare the collection. I’m keeping this, because it was made by a neighbor of ours in the little town where I spent my first eight years. I cannot imagine how long it took her to stick on all the 3D bits.
And I’m keeping this, because I made it and because I like it. Fall is my favorite season. I always feel as if I were coming home, as the world cools off in autumn.
Mincemeat pies, hot chocolate, caramel apples, the smell of burning leaves or people’s fireplaces. Needing a sweater in the morning. Potato-leek soup in the crockpot to greet me when I get home at night.
I took the empty orange and black storage container, bought on sale after Halloween one year, and refilled it with the contents of a laundry bag that has been lurking in my closet for at least two years: all my stash yarn from Brother Stilts, who was as impressive with the crochet hook as he was with East Coast Swing. He crocheted a blanket for his king-size bed, and his work was every bit as meticulous as my own.
What? Somebody’s going to tell a guy who’s 6’5” and 275 lbs. of pure gristle that crocheting is a sissy thing to do? I don’t think so!
I just realized that the snow globe bit fits into what I thought was a tea light holder. I was going to pitch out the base, but now I think I’ll keep it as a prop for dolly pictures. The next time my hot glue gun bubbles to the surface, I’ll put Humpty Dumpty together again.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!