Moving on

So, this site has finally horked (yes, the technical term) on me one time too many. You'll all be able to follow my continuing adventures of knittage and off the wall rampant catchenage at my new site, at bellamoden.

You'll all need to update your bookmarks to follow this exciting journey, and if there are any problems then leave me a comment here, and I'll see what I can do.

Interlude

As a reminder to new readers, the name on the blog doesn't mean I didn't write the post, it means I had help posting it because I didn't use a computer to write the post.

Also? Don't forget, today's the last day for my contest! Don't forget to leave a question on last Friday's post. Thanks!

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For some reason, when I took my weekly pilgrimage to Hobby Lobby yesterday after having my Tuesday $1 ice cream at the Baskin Robbins, I was drawn to the crap yarn. I am a serious knitter, as serious as anyone can be after knitting nonstop for nine months and still not have produced a sweater. I love Rowan and Debbie Bliss and Noro and Cascade and Brown Sheep and Koigu and and and. You know, good self-respecting non-Fun Fur encrusted stuff.

So why was I drawn to crap yarn? Worse, store brand crap yarn. Generic yarn.

But I was. It is hard to resist the call of 70% off this week only yarn. Petting is free, right? Yarn yarn yarn molest molest molest yarn yarn.

Trouble was, I liked some of it. I did. The Hobby Lobby's yarn line is called Yarn Bee, and there was this yarn called Jewelsong. Of course, Tiphanie and I had a small cacklefest over how jewels sang and how we were missing out. But I digress.


Jewelsong.

It's sort of a cross between a ribbon yarn and a slight slight eyelash yarn. Satiny ribbon on one side, and short cotton eyelash on the other. If I had a real camera I'd take a picture, well I do, but I mean, if I had a computer to upload it to, you'd all see what I meant. The cotton means it's not prickly and when knitted up it sort of has what feels like to me the visual and tactile feel of old velvet. It's not wool, obviously, but it really is soft and tactile, and the colorway I got, Autumn Sky, is golds and pinks and hot pinks and plums and blues and greens and blue-greens. It's all mottled knitted up, I like it a lot. It's heavily textured, but unalike fun fur type crap, you can easily see the garter ridges.



It's just a simple garter stitch scarf on bamboo 8mms, 30 stitches a row for a ten inch wide scarf, the better to fold onto itself and scrunch nicely.

I like it a lot. 2 feet worth so far.

Not bad for 70% off yarn.

The Girl and the Matisse

Unalike babochka the greatest geriatic catchen ever, the Matisse doesn't own me. If he owns anything, it would be the bowl, yes?

Still I cannot help but be captivated by him, how beautiful he is, how silly he is, how well, short bussed he is. How graceful he is, how far he has come since we met on my birthday four years ago. He was so little, especially compared to now. Yet, from the first, he was larger than baba. He was so sad, a traumatized giant six month old kitten with fresh cuts on his nose and a sad sad sad demeanor. But from the first, this tiny giant kitten was a contrandiction, loving to be close yet being so so afraid.

Never once hiding in fear, yet not understanding how to hide when he wanted to play. He still hides by putting his head under the bed. It still cracks me up. It took him a year before he would sit on me at all, 18 months before he would sit on me in front of *gasp* other people, and longer still to learn that he absolutely loved wearing me and sleeping on me and other now-normal Matisseisms, including drooling on my yarn and attempting to cram his giant self into my armpit.

But he is a bundle of joy in a giant furry container. He is happiness epitomized. He is bowl obsession incarnate. He is expandable, able to reach from my ankles to my chest. He is squishable, able to fit in the depression that forms when I sit indian style on the sofa. He is never sleek, and always always always fluffy. He doesn't like having his teethies brushed, but loves the toothpaste. He sets himself on fire and sits in wet sinks. He comes up and snuggles close when I don't feel well, and headbutts the wonderful brush Maia sent because he loves it that much.

Most importantly, he knows to tell me whenever the Vogons attack, because it is imperative that I be aware of their invisible bad poetry spewing presence.

Hat Hat Hat

Hat #3 this morning, made with Sugar n Cream yarn in Hot Pink. This is being knitted up with the Chic Knits bucket hat pattern.

I wish my progress would be greater, but oh well. It's pretty!

Think the contrast color (just a small band above the brim, and a crocheted flower) should be white? Or tan? Or black?

BTW, I'm loving everyone's questions! I'll be answering all of them here sometime this week, and the contest will stay open until Wednesday because I'm awesome like that. Keep them coming!

Bite

Remember that attempt for red cotton yarn last weekend?



After rinsing off the black and the red and the purple and the pink dyes, which had left the yarn looking distinctly lavenderish, this was what was left. Pink, but with a bite. Bite me pink. Not pale baby pink. Lurid, but not fluroscent.



On the left is the Sugar n Cream Hot Pink, and on the right is Bite. I rather like it, even if it's difficult to get a good representation of its color.

Anyone know if it'll just wash out if I wash it? Should I use a fixative? If so, what?

It'll be a hat. Of course. Pretend to be shocked.

Window

What's the big deal about this picture? Simply put, THANK YOU GRAMMA for the curtains! I finally washed them and hang them up and I am so thrilled with them... they keep out light better at night while still keeping the room bright during the day (it's my paradox and I'm happy with it, thank you). They're 54" which are hard to find, but I really wanted that because Matisse has a habit of snagging the ends of the 63" drapes I had in the living room. 54" doesn't keep him from trying to reach the drapes but he's not tall enough to reach up to the ends. Neener neener!

O. And they are washable.

I suppose this is when you know you are an adult, when you are thrilled beyond what you thought possible for two small drapes over the bedroom window.

Friday! Friday! Friday!

I'm thrilled to say that despite constantly falling asleep the minute I get home and waking up as late as possible, it seems, every morning, I managed to finish my hat! I like how it doesn't pool on the body but pools on the crown. And I'm wearing my matching Gramma Sweater, with a white tshirt under. Way too too.

I was going to post pictures yesterday of the Yarn Box, but short of filling up the bathtub with yarn, it was waaaaaaaaaaay too dark outside to do any pictures, basically, the last couple days. I might go ahead and do the tub filling tonight and talk about the haul tomorrow!

Hm, today's my 180th post. I always associate the number 180 with school. How about a mini contest? Leave a deafie-type question you've been wondering about, and hmmm, there will be random drawing for a prize! How about a small pile of hand-dyed yarn, winner's choice of weight and colors?