Just so you know...

...I am a genius. Not only is my sock knitting going according to schedule, I’ve also had time to finish The Fox. Or rather, V is for Vineyard by the Prairie Schooler. Excuse the craptastic quality of the picture.

I love it. In fact, I love it so much that I started another letter from the Alphabet Series straight away, to wit: L is for Leaves. But, yup, you’ve guessed it, I forgot to take a pic. And really, I’ve only finished one tiny leaf, so you’re not missing much.

The socks I’m knitting for gifts are boring to knit and would no doubt be boring to behold, so I’m showing you a little something I did by way of light entertainment a couple of days ago:

This sock pattern is called Hwæt!, designed by The Sanguine Gryphon, and it features the first part of the Old English verse Beowulf. This bit of knitting was just a little trial. I knew it would probably be too small, and it is: can’t get it over my ankle (which isn’t even that fat), but I just wanted to see if I could do two-stranded knitting. I think I can now, and will be casting on a larger size once the gift socks are out of the way. Just so you know? I. Am. Smitten.

Ooooooooh, I’m also smitten with Harry Potter!!!! I know I’m awfully late joining the party, but I’ve just finished The Philosopher’s Stone (which I had already read), and I’ve started part two (which I have also already read, back in the day when part four [The Goblet of Fire] hadn’t even been released yet), and I have every intention of finishing all seven of the books before the end of the year. It’s very difficult to navigate your way around all the spoilers that circulate on the internet, though. I already know things about the plot I really don’t want to know yet. Just so you know, though, I couldn’t give a toss about Harry P. himself (sacrilege!). It’s Snape I’m interested in. But then I always go for the dark, mysterious, broody types :o)

Pelle is away for two whole nights and three whole days, so I’m off to enjoy a very lavish little holiday, filled with knitting, reading, stitching, reading, gardening, reading and maybe a bit of sleeping too. Weeeeeeee!

Yours vacationingly,
Annemarie.

Foxiness galore

It’s official: I have no taste. You came here in droves to tell me that the sock I was knitting looked lovely in its sewage-ness, so I plodded on and finished it. Alas, I forgot to take a picture because I was in such a dreadful hurry because I finish-finished something else and am on the point of finishing another something else and I'm so insanely busy with all of this crafting and gift-making that I hardly have time to breathe! Okay, let's go. Last things first. Look what I discovered in my UFO drawer:

Isn’t it fabby? I remember putting it away some... ohhhhh, six years ago, because I ran out of DMC 523 (which is, of course, a perfectly good reason to stick something in a drawer and never take it out until you find it by accident and fall in love with it all over again). Since recovering it from the dreaded UFO drawer, I’ve already filled in most of the grass and I have high hopes of being able to show you a finish pretty soon.

Now what do you think I found when I unfolded the fabric?

Squeeeeee! A finish!

From 2005. It is in serious need of framing, don’t you think?

***

Next Thursday will be Pelle’s last day at his medical daycare centre. On the 22nd of August he will be going to a proper school - well, a proper school for children who are not right in the head, obviously, but still, a proper school. I’m sure you will hear much more about it when the new school year is underway. Knowing my wee one, he’s not going to enjoy the first couple of months very much. Anyway, as a sort of thank-you-and-goodbye-gift, I’m knitting the infernal socks for the teachers, but I also wanted something special for the lady who accompanies the kids in the school bus, Erika. She is the loveliest woman ever, she’s 71 years old (!) and she’s very special to Pelle and to me. She never wears a coat or anything, because that’s too much hassle with al those children who need so much help getting in and out of the bus, but she loves to wear thick sweaters with cowls, in order to keep warm in the winter. Last year, I started a cowl for myself, and it was very nearly finished. It just happened to have all of Erika’s favourite colours in it (judging from the clothes she wears), and so I finished it this morning, with the intention of giving it to her. I must admit I’m totally and completely and madly head over heels in love with it, as it’s versatile, warm, soft, non-scratchy, it’s huge and it’s just... I’m crying over here... too gorgeous to give away, but I’m going to anyway. As my face currently looks like the cats used me as a scratching post, I’ve hired the services of a body double... well, a face double, really. Meet Tante Trui (or Aunt Gertrude in English):

Lovely, no?

Keep your fingers crossed that next week Ill be able to show you that stitchy finish!

Yours industriously,
Annemarie.

The blanket and the sock

Remember a while ago I showed you a blanket I was working on for Pelle’s birthday? You didn’t think I would make it, did you? Well... I did!!! The first time ever, in Pelle’s 7 years on this earth, that his mother actually managed to finish a birthday gift, let alone finish it on time for the actual day.
The hooky term for a happy dance is, I believe, a Ta-daah moment (or something to that effect), so I’m very happy, proud and pleased to be able to show you Pelle’s blanket:

I know I’m biased, but I love it.

I really do.

I really, really love it.
And so does Pelle. Over the weeks, he’s watched it grow, he told me which colours to use where, he knows there are 79 stripes (well, 79 coloured stripes. There are actually 79 x 2 stripes, two rows for every colour, but I’m too stupid to... oh hang on... that’s 158 stripes, isn’t it? Not so stupid after all.), and he adores his blanket. Takes it everywhere whenever he spends a night at the daycare centre. As I said, 79 stripes, 13 colours of Annell Malmédy and 1 Rowan Felted Tweed (the red). Four rows of double crochet along the border, finished with a simple yet effective crab stitch. I love it.

And now for something I’m not so pleased with. The second of the 8 socks. The knitting is going swimmingly, but, but... sigh...
I asked Pelle’s four teachers what their favourite colours were. For someone who does so little knitting, I have an embarrassingly huge pile of sock yarn in the back of my closet, so I was sure I could find something in there for everyone. Turns out 3of the 4 teachers have the same favourite colour.

And it’s purple.

Now I have nothing against purple. I really don’t. I just wouldn’t dream of wearing it, let alone knit a whole pair of socks with anything even remotely resembling purple. Thus, there was no purple in my sock yarn stash. I went in search of some purple sock yarn, and found a couple of very yummy skeins of Katia Olé. Knit up one sock in pinky-purply very yummy berry yarny. Then, in order to try and prevent Second Sock Syndrom from striking me mid-knit, I started a sock for another pair, with a very lovely purple and green, heathery coloured yarn. Well, that’s what it looked like on the skein anyway. Knitted up, it looks more like something that was dredged up out of a puddle of raw sewage.

I asked Harmien for advice and her answer was just what I expected: she loves it. Now, either she says that because she loves me and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings, or she has appalling taste. What do you think? Do I continue with this thing and even make a second one, or do I dump it in the nearest bin? Help me, darlings, and don’t you dare spare my feelings. Regarding the sock, that is. I don’t want any negative comments about my blanket. Pelle’s blanket. Sorry, Pelle’s blanket...

Yours curled up under a striped blanky even though it is rather hot outside and even hotter inside and the promise of Fall was only just a promise and now I’m a little sad-ly,
Annemarie.

The granny, the bike and the poodle

My dear darling honeybuns, may I present this month’s orts jar:

I was taking a lovely long walk through the beautiful woods this afternoon, and to my astonishment and glee found the forest floor littered with these babies. Ahhhh, Fall is upon us! I thought I’d take them home, put them in my orts jar, and put my orts in a wee wine glass. Well, I say orts but in fact, it’s just one ort, and it’s not a real ort but a bit of thread that stuck out of a newly purchased pillowette.
Does this count as a Tusal update? Please? Pretty please? I really tried to do some stitching, but then everytime I sat down with needle and thread - and lap stand, and chart:

* I had to finish a translation
* I fell ill with a drrrreadful head cold and a chest infection
* Pelle turned 7:
* I had to cart Pelle (and his cousin) around in our new cargo bike. (Pelle can’t ride a bike himself due to him being... Pelle. But he loves to go for long bike rides. Therefore the ex (who is now loaded) thought it would be nice to get Pelle the cargo bike for his birthday):* I decided I needed to start a second Giant granny square blanket:
* I decided I needed handmade gifts for Pelle’s teachers in the shape of hand-knit socks:
This is the first of 8 socks I need to finish before 18 August. Something tells me I’m not going to make it. I would abandon the project had I not already asked the teachers for their favourite colours and shoe sizes. What on earth would I say if they asked me what I needed that information for? That I just go around asking people’s shoe sizes because I’m a shoe size fetishist? No. I’m afraid I’m just going to have to knit the damned socks.

Ooooooh, I’ve been to the hair dresser’s today, and I look all different. Well, I think so anyway. I don’t like to fuss with my hair, you see, and lately I found that I had to do an awful lot of unwanted fussing to straighten my hair in order for my short bob to look good. Only my hair isn’t naturally straight. In fact, my hair is so far from naturally straight that every time I thought I’d successfully ironed it into submission after hours of pottering about with potions, conditioners, anti-frizz, straightening irons and blow dryers, the mirror told me Mission Short Straight Bob had failed. So I decided to embrace the poodle in me and go for a matching poodle-‘do.
Excuse the freaky looking cat. He was intrigued by the flashing red light of the self-timer.

Well, again I’ve managed to write a post about absolutely nothing anyone could ever be vaguely interested in. My apologies. Next time... more of the same, I fear :o)

Yours poodley-doodley,
Annemarie.