On Saturday, I visited a florist.
I know, my wedding is eleven months away, and I'm already talking to florists! But things seem to get booked up pretty quickly in NYC, particularly anything affordable, so it behooves me to get started. Besides, it's not like I'm thinking about anything else, anyway.
So, I went to see a florist. It was this cute little shop in Jersey City, across the Hudson from Manhattan. I really liked the flowers on her website, and when I called and told her my budget, she didn't laugh. This seemed promising.
You see, we are getting married on February 17. Unfortunately, it is close enough to Valentine's Day that flowers are still going to be extra expensive. Furthermore, I want my color scheme to be primarily red. Red is the Chinese color for weddings, and it just so happens I love red. However, red roses around Valentine's Day are as in demand as, oh, World Series tickets, and just as expensive.
This is a problem, because in winter, roses are the cheapest flower around. If you're not getting married around Valentine's Day.
The first florist I called suggested I cut costs by doing nothing but roses in my bridesmaids bouquets and centerpieces. Then she sent me a proposal that was about $1,000 above my budget, $400 of which was delivery charges.
The second florist, the one in Jersey City, suggested using other flowers, and didn't sneer at my budget. I went in. We looked at lots of pretty pictures of amarylis, ranunculus, tulips, anemones, ilex berries, and all kinds of lovely red flowers that were not roses. She said she would send me a proposal. I am waiting with bated breath: I hope she still thinks she can do it on my budget after talking with me.
Today I called a third florst, who basically told me there was absolutely no way I could do anything on my budget; all flowers are insane around Valentine's Day. Maybe I should do candles for centerpieces and spend my budget on the bouquets.
I hate candles.
I am, as with the wedding in general, torn. I love flowers. My sweetie gives me flowers all the time, and they always make me happy. I just love their beautiful graceful shapes, their delicate texture, their bright colors. I think they are the ultimate extravagance, and I would love to have a wedding overflowing with flowers (would that I were marrying in the spring and could have an abundance of peonies, dogwoods, magnolias and lilacs!).
But on the other hand, they are so fleeting. I have a hard time spending thousands of dollars on something I will enjoy for only a few hours. Even though I love flowers, I do not remember the centerpieces at any wedding I've ever been to. These flowers would really be only for my pleasure; no one else will really notice. It's hard to justify.
I sometimes feel the same way about the wedding. My sweetie and I could use the same amount of money to travel around the world. But...I love weddings, and I think the ceremony, the public celebration, is important. I don't want to just go down to City Hall, spend the day in line, and then sign a paper and be done with it.
Well; let's see what the florist has to say.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Sunday, March 25, 2007
The Ignorance of the Urban Gardener
A brief break from wedding minutiae to pay homage to my tomato plant.
This is a “black plum” tomato plant. Black plum is an heirloom variety which produces dark maroon tomatoes, about the size of a cherry tomato, which taste almost tart. I bought the plant on a whim last spring, sometime mid April, at the farmer’s market. I’ve occasionally toyed with growing things myself, but of course since I live in an apartment, my space is limited. And you can get pretty much anything in a store, so why bother?
But tomatoes….there are few things which are genuinely, noticeably better when fresh picked instead of store bought. (Tomatoes and corn: if I could grow corn in my apartment, I would, but that’s beside the point) So, I figured, why not try it?
Since I bought it on a whim, I did not research tmato growing beforehand. My mother grew tomatoes when I was a kid; I remember the spicy smell of the plants, and the sweet juicy tomatoes. Her plants were, I guess, some sort of bushy variety, because they never got over a few feet in height. I just assumed that’s how tomatoes are: low bushy plants. My plant was four feet in about two weeks. It quickly got out of control.
It did not produce a great many tomatoes—I’ve harvested maybe 15 or 18—and it produced them basically one at a time, so I could never get enough to make anything with them. I developed an antipathy towards it. My sweetie hates it, because it blocks the door to the balcony :-).
In the winter, it looked quite sad. I kept planning to throw it out, just as soon as that last tomato was ripe. But it kept having ooooone lassst tomatooo….all the way through the winter. By the time I picked the last one this week, it was too late:
It’s got eight new springtime flowers on it.
Who knew tomatoes were perennials??
This is a “black plum” tomato plant. Black plum is an heirloom variety which produces dark maroon tomatoes, about the size of a cherry tomato, which taste almost tart. I bought the plant on a whim last spring, sometime mid April, at the farmer’s market. I’ve occasionally toyed with growing things myself, but of course since I live in an apartment, my space is limited. And you can get pretty much anything in a store, so why bother?
But tomatoes….there are few things which are genuinely, noticeably better when fresh picked instead of store bought. (Tomatoes and corn: if I could grow corn in my apartment, I would, but that’s beside the point) So, I figured, why not try it?
Since I bought it on a whim, I did not research tmato growing beforehand. My mother grew tomatoes when I was a kid; I remember the spicy smell of the plants, and the sweet juicy tomatoes. Her plants were, I guess, some sort of bushy variety, because they never got over a few feet in height. I just assumed that’s how tomatoes are: low bushy plants. My plant was four feet in about two weeks. It quickly got out of control.
It did not produce a great many tomatoes—I’ve harvested maybe 15 or 18—and it produced them basically one at a time, so I could never get enough to make anything with them. I developed an antipathy towards it. My sweetie hates it, because it blocks the door to the balcony :-).
In the winter, it looked quite sad. I kept planning to throw it out, just as soon as that last tomato was ripe. But it kept having ooooone lassst tomatooo….all the way through the winter. By the time I picked the last one this week, it was too late:
It’s got eight new springtime flowers on it.
Who knew tomatoes were perennials??
Monday, March 19, 2007
Something old
My mother keeps her jewelry in a large cardboard shirt box, buried in a blanket chest. It’s not anything fancy—some costume stuff from the 60s and 70s, my parents’ wedding rings (neither of my parents wear them), some inexpensive jade. My mother rarely wears jewelry. But every now and then when I was a kid, she’d pull out the shirt box and show me the things in there. I thought it was all so pretty—glittery and very adult. I particularly loved these earrings:
They’ve been in this little Marshall Fields (RIP) box with that shriveled piece of fluff for as long as I can remember. They’re absolutely fake—whatever their posts are made of rots my ears from the inside out—but when I was a kid, I thought they were the epitome of elegance. The bright gold color and the deep sparkly red, the snazzy modern design: what more could you ask for?
Here they are on: see how they make that cool loop?
I still love them, and I would love to wear them in my wedding.
There are two problems with this plan. First, the aforementioned rotting ears. I can only wear real silver or gold in my ears: anything else makes the pierced holes very unhappy, itchy and sore and, well, seepy. It’s gross. I doubt I could wear these for the several hours of my wedding without some unpleasant results. I am hoping a trip to the Diamond District will solve this problem.
The second problem is what to wear with them? I would like to wear a necklace which matches, something red and gold and glittery. Something pretty substantial (not simply a chain with a pendant) since my dress is fairly low-cut. The earrings’ geometric design and bright red color precludes the sort of delicate white rhinestone-and-pearl stuff that is usually aimed at brides. Something with red beads just won’t work, because the red crystals in the earrings are prong-set. I want then to match.
After many fruitless Google searches (for very generic things like “red crystal necklace” and “red bib necklace” that turned up lots of beaded items), I finally stumbled into the world of vintage rhinestone jewelry. I’ll be honest: I never thought of these earrings as “vintage,” but of course they are. Duh.
Here are some choices currently on eBay:
I like the middle one (with the horizontal rectangles) the best. The third one appeals to the exhibitionist in me, but I think it’s a bit too ornate, both for the occasion, and for the earrings they’re meant to match.
What do you think? The other option, I suppose, is a necklace that is substantial, but only gold, making the earrings the sole color star.
Have I mentioned that I’m obsessed with the fun details that really don’t need to be taken care of right now?
They’ve been in this little Marshall Fields (RIP) box with that shriveled piece of fluff for as long as I can remember. They’re absolutely fake—whatever their posts are made of rots my ears from the inside out—but when I was a kid, I thought they were the epitome of elegance. The bright gold color and the deep sparkly red, the snazzy modern design: what more could you ask for?
Here they are on: see how they make that cool loop?
I still love them, and I would love to wear them in my wedding.
There are two problems with this plan. First, the aforementioned rotting ears. I can only wear real silver or gold in my ears: anything else makes the pierced holes very unhappy, itchy and sore and, well, seepy. It’s gross. I doubt I could wear these for the several hours of my wedding without some unpleasant results. I am hoping a trip to the Diamond District will solve this problem.
The second problem is what to wear with them? I would like to wear a necklace which matches, something red and gold and glittery. Something pretty substantial (not simply a chain with a pendant) since my dress is fairly low-cut. The earrings’ geometric design and bright red color precludes the sort of delicate white rhinestone-and-pearl stuff that is usually aimed at brides. Something with red beads just won’t work, because the red crystals in the earrings are prong-set. I want then to match.
After many fruitless Google searches (for very generic things like “red crystal necklace” and “red bib necklace” that turned up lots of beaded items), I finally stumbled into the world of vintage rhinestone jewelry. I’ll be honest: I never thought of these earrings as “vintage,” but of course they are. Duh.
Here are some choices currently on eBay:
I like the middle one (with the horizontal rectangles) the best. The third one appeals to the exhibitionist in me, but I think it’s a bit too ornate, both for the occasion, and for the earrings they’re meant to match.
What do you think? The other option, I suppose, is a necklace that is substantial, but only gold, making the earrings the sole color star.
Have I mentioned that I’m obsessed with the fun details that really don’t need to be taken care of right now?
Mark your calendars
Well, we have a date: Sunday, February 17, 2008. Almost exactly eleven months from now. I'm excited and nervous!
The 17th is the Sunday of Presidents Day weekend. It will be one year and one day after we got engaged. It will be appallingly close to Valentine's Day, to my sweetie's chagrin. It is also a holiday weekend, which is both convenient for those folks who want to come but don't want to take a day off work, but also inconvenient for those people with kids (of whom we know a great many) who take a vacation that week because their kids are off from school. To them, I apologize: I hope you will still come to our wedding!
Here are some more pictures of our venue, Battery Gardens Restaurant:
The 17th is the Sunday of Presidents Day weekend. It will be one year and one day after we got engaged. It will be appallingly close to Valentine's Day, to my sweetie's chagrin. It is also a holiday weekend, which is both convenient for those folks who want to come but don't want to take a day off work, but also inconvenient for those people with kids (of whom we know a great many) who take a vacation that week because their kids are off from school. To them, I apologize: I hope you will still come to our wedding!
Here are some more pictures of our venue, Battery Gardens Restaurant:
Where the ceremony will be (and we will have a sunset)
The back of the reception room, where the DJ and dance floor will be set up. And you can just see the wood-burning fireplace, very cozy for a winter wedding!
Battery Gardens is in Battery Park, at the very southern tip of Manhattan. It's between the Staten Island Ferry terminal and the terminal for the ferry to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. My sweetie thought the view of Ellis Island would be nice for his 90-year-old grandmother, because his grandfather came through Ellis Island. I find this rather amazing: as a Chinese-American whose parents came to the US via the West Coast, I think of Ellis Island as something from the 19th century. When I was a grad student teaching freshman comp at UCLA, I once asked my class if any of their families had come via Ellis Island, and only one student in a class of 25 raised his hand. I won't wax philosophical about America's melting pot (or "salad bowl"), but I always find it interesting how different my sweetie's and my backgrounds are. I guess we will see how it works out--but so far it's pretty good.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Black hole
So, I am realizing that wedding planning is a black hole. Here I am, 11 months out, and I already have a pretty good idea of which invitation I like and what bridemaids dress I prefer. I'm thinking about flowers and favors. I am investigating photographers and DJs. I'm wondering if live music is the way to go for the ceremony. I have begun setting up a wedding information website and designing a cute save-the-date card. I'm thinking about where to book blocks of hotel rooms. I'm fretting about officiants. I'm thinking of where I can hang lanterns in my venue.
In short, I'm thinking of very little else.
And there's no need--I have plenty of time. Those invitations I love don't need to be ordered for another five or six months. The save-the-dates don't need to be mailed for another four or five months. My bridesmaids certainly don't need to have dresses hanging in their closets for 11 months. Favor frenzy does not need to happen for, oh, eight months, I'd say. It's ridiculous.
But, well, it's fun. I'm starting to see why women get caught up in all the details. I'm not obsessed with making it perfect (....yet), and you won't catch me going bridezilla and demanding my bridesmaids all cut and dye their hair to match (I think my bridemaids would not be shy about telling me to shove it if I do), but the allure of finding just the right touch is very compelling. No one wants their wedding to be generic, and so you start to think about things you can do to personalize it, and it snowballs from there.
And the Internet is your enabler.
You can find anything on th Internet, if you're persistent and you look hard enough. That invitation, for example, was the result of an exhaustive Internet search over several days, and came in the end not from a Google search but a suggestion on a theknot.com forum. You never know where ideas will come from, so you have to look everywhere.
Oh yes: I scare myself.
But, really, the invitation, the bridesmaids dresses, the favors, the lanterns, the save-the-dates are the easy parts. The DJ and the photographer and the officiant--those are the hard things. Those are the things I actually need to be doing now. Those are the things for which I need active participation from my sweetie, and fairly soon.
So, naturally, I am procrastinating. I guess it's good to know my character hasn't changed that much :-).
In short, I'm thinking of very little else.
And there's no need--I have plenty of time. Those invitations I love don't need to be ordered for another five or six months. The save-the-dates don't need to be mailed for another four or five months. My bridesmaids certainly don't need to have dresses hanging in their closets for 11 months. Favor frenzy does not need to happen for, oh, eight months, I'd say. It's ridiculous.
But, well, it's fun. I'm starting to see why women get caught up in all the details. I'm not obsessed with making it perfect (....yet), and you won't catch me going bridezilla and demanding my bridesmaids all cut and dye their hair to match (I think my bridemaids would not be shy about telling me to shove it if I do), but the allure of finding just the right touch is very compelling. No one wants their wedding to be generic, and so you start to think about things you can do to personalize it, and it snowballs from there.
And the Internet is your enabler.
You can find anything on th Internet, if you're persistent and you look hard enough. That invitation, for example, was the result of an exhaustive Internet search over several days, and came in the end not from a Google search but a suggestion on a theknot.com forum. You never know where ideas will come from, so you have to look everywhere.
Oh yes: I scare myself.
But, really, the invitation, the bridesmaids dresses, the favors, the lanterns, the save-the-dates are the easy parts. The DJ and the photographer and the officiant--those are the hard things. Those are the things I actually need to be doing now. Those are the things for which I need active participation from my sweetie, and fairly soon.
So, naturally, I am procrastinating. I guess it's good to know my character hasn't changed that much :-).
Thursday, March 08, 2007
A place
My sweetie and I went to look at places for the wedding on Saturday. Right now it is 20 degress outside, but Saturday was beautiful, in the 50s and sunny. A day for remembering that spring will come.
It was really lovely to spend the day with him, walking around with our coats off in the sunshine, thinking about getting married and sharing the excitement of the planning. The day reminded me of how really, really happy I am to have him. We work really well together, and we complement each other in ways that I don't always expect. I guess he's a keeper :-).
We saw three places on Saturday, one of which was too small, the second of which was a bit too expensive (although, situated on the corner of 14th St and Fifth Ave, it has gorgeous and quintessentially New York City views), and the third of which was just right:
It has something I really wanted, huge windows, and something my sweetie wanted, a view of the water. And, yes, the Statue of Liberty, which you can spot in this picture if you squint really hard, but which is unmissable in real life. This is the downstairs room, where the cocktail reception would be.
This is their much more professional shot of the upstairs room, where the ceremony and dinner would be:
I love it. I think a wedding there would be beautiful. I think we would have so much fun. I love the idea of coming back on our first anniversary and having a romantic dinner. I can't wait!
More after we sign the contract, because until then, nothing's written in stone (or on paper!).
Friday, March 02, 2007
Omigod, I bought a dress
So, my sweetie and I got engaged two weeks ago. We have not yet set a date, nor have we booked a venue (though we will be seeing some places tomorrow). It's still quite early in the game. I swear, I am not going to be a bridezilla. I know every bride must say this, but the idea of obsessing over every little detail (are the chairs the right style and color? Do the plates match my color scheme?) just exhausts me. I am not detail-oriented.
One thing I do know, however, is that getting married in NYC is an expensive proposition. So it behooves us to save money where we can. For exmaple, on the dress. I mean, my stingy soul finds it hard to imagine I would ever spend $5,000 on a dress anyway, but given the circumstances, it's even less likely. The only problem is, I'm a fiber snob. I hate the idea of getting married in polyester. Heck, I hate the idea of, oh, going to work in polyester. But a silk dress usually means a designer dress, and that means $$$$$.
So, this morning, my friend Laura and I went to the annual Running of the Brides sale at Filene's Basement. I did not expect to buy anything, but I thought, hey, if I can get a designer silk dress for a few hundred bucks, I'm ahead of the game.
Many other brides were thinking the same thing. Maybe you've seen news footage of the original Filene's in Boston and their bridal sale: crazy women in catsuits undressing in the aisles and fighting each other for dresses. The New York store was much like that, though I suspect not as crazy. Laura and I were there at 7:30; the doors opened at 8:00. Hundreds of women, many in packs of four or five wearing matching hats (or Easter bunny ears), the better to find each other in the mayhem, poured into the store, ripping gowns off the rack, basically at random. After about five seconds of attempting to actually look at the dresses and selecting ones I liked, Laura and I fell into the pattern and just grabbed. Inside three minutes, we had a pile of seven or eight gowns, and retired to the side to try them on.
Luckily, we retired to the side in front of what was usually the men's dressing room. As I disrobed, in true Filene's bridal madness fashion, a store employee came out of the dressing room and said, drily, "You know, you can use the dressing room." So, we did. It was a haven of calm in the frenzy.
At first, I thought I was safe: every dress in that first batch was polyester, ugly, heavily beaded, or too small. I figured that was the way it was going to go, and I was OK with it: I was here bascially on a lark anyway. Laura headed out into the fray to fetch me more. The scene out there was apparently quite bad. When Laura attempted to take some dresses another woman had rejected, that woman demanded that Laura provide a dress in trade for each one she was going to take. This was the order of the day, as the friend of the woman in the dressing rom next to me came back empty-handed and complained that everyone wanted something in trade. Laura is made of stronger stuff. She said, "I'f you've tried it on and you're not considering buying it, you don't actually own it." She brought me another armful of dresses. And another, and another. In all, I probably tried on over two dozen dresses.
Somewhere in that second batch, I started to see some lovely simple silk dresses from one of my favorite wedding dress designers, Romona Keveza. Alas, each one was too small. I was disappointed, but OK with it: I was here on a lark. And then, and then--I found it. A Romona Keveza 100% silk column dress with a dramatic fishtail train. In my size. In pristine condition. And it cost $700, not $5,000.
What could I do? I bought it.
Here it is, hanging on the back of my office door. Yes, I went to the sale before work. When I brought it in, everyone made me try it on to show them. I complied, until the mail guy walked by and looked at me funny. I bet he thought I was a bridezilla!
Here's the bodice, a simple crossover v-neck with an empire waist.
Here's that gorgeous train. I ask you, did I have a choice? None. None, I say. It will need a few minor alterations, but it won't need to be cleaned (assuming I can keep from taking it out and trying it on every week until the wedding), so all in all, I got a great deal. It was meant to be, right? I mean, we had no method: we were just grabbing any dress we could lay our mitts on. Yet in that haphazard pile was this dress, the One.
No, I won't post pictures of me with it on: my sweetie might see :-).
One thing I do know, however, is that getting married in NYC is an expensive proposition. So it behooves us to save money where we can. For exmaple, on the dress. I mean, my stingy soul finds it hard to imagine I would ever spend $5,000 on a dress anyway, but given the circumstances, it's even less likely. The only problem is, I'm a fiber snob. I hate the idea of getting married in polyester. Heck, I hate the idea of, oh, going to work in polyester. But a silk dress usually means a designer dress, and that means $$$$$.
So, this morning, my friend Laura and I went to the annual Running of the Brides sale at Filene's Basement. I did not expect to buy anything, but I thought, hey, if I can get a designer silk dress for a few hundred bucks, I'm ahead of the game.
Many other brides were thinking the same thing. Maybe you've seen news footage of the original Filene's in Boston and their bridal sale: crazy women in catsuits undressing in the aisles and fighting each other for dresses. The New York store was much like that, though I suspect not as crazy. Laura and I were there at 7:30; the doors opened at 8:00. Hundreds of women, many in packs of four or five wearing matching hats (or Easter bunny ears), the better to find each other in the mayhem, poured into the store, ripping gowns off the rack, basically at random. After about five seconds of attempting to actually look at the dresses and selecting ones I liked, Laura and I fell into the pattern and just grabbed. Inside three minutes, we had a pile of seven or eight gowns, and retired to the side to try them on.
Luckily, we retired to the side in front of what was usually the men's dressing room. As I disrobed, in true Filene's bridal madness fashion, a store employee came out of the dressing room and said, drily, "You know, you can use the dressing room." So, we did. It was a haven of calm in the frenzy.
At first, I thought I was safe: every dress in that first batch was polyester, ugly, heavily beaded, or too small. I figured that was the way it was going to go, and I was OK with it: I was here bascially on a lark anyway. Laura headed out into the fray to fetch me more. The scene out there was apparently quite bad. When Laura attempted to take some dresses another woman had rejected, that woman demanded that Laura provide a dress in trade for each one she was going to take. This was the order of the day, as the friend of the woman in the dressing rom next to me came back empty-handed and complained that everyone wanted something in trade. Laura is made of stronger stuff. She said, "I'f you've tried it on and you're not considering buying it, you don't actually own it." She brought me another armful of dresses. And another, and another. In all, I probably tried on over two dozen dresses.
Somewhere in that second batch, I started to see some lovely simple silk dresses from one of my favorite wedding dress designers, Romona Keveza. Alas, each one was too small. I was disappointed, but OK with it: I was here on a lark. And then, and then--I found it. A Romona Keveza 100% silk column dress with a dramatic fishtail train. In my size. In pristine condition. And it cost $700, not $5,000.
What could I do? I bought it.
Here it is, hanging on the back of my office door. Yes, I went to the sale before work. When I brought it in, everyone made me try it on to show them. I complied, until the mail guy walked by and looked at me funny. I bet he thought I was a bridezilla!
Here's the bodice, a simple crossover v-neck with an empire waist.
Here's that gorgeous train. I ask you, did I have a choice? None. None, I say. It will need a few minor alterations, but it won't need to be cleaned (assuming I can keep from taking it out and trying it on every week until the wedding), so all in all, I got a great deal. It was meant to be, right? I mean, we had no method: we were just grabbing any dress we could lay our mitts on. Yet in that haphazard pile was this dress, the One.
No, I won't post pictures of me with it on: my sweetie might see :-).
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Surprise!
My sweetie is sneaky. Very sneaky.
We got engaged last week, Friday.
Sure, we'd talked about it. I knew it was coming. But not then. Not Friday. Friday was supposed to be a belated birthday dinner. A romantic, just-the-two-of-us dinner, yes, but a birthday dinner. Because, on my actual birthday, I like to go out to dinner with friends, so he takes me out for the romantic dinner after my birthday. He did it last year, and we didn't get engaged. He said, the whole week leading up to the dinner that it was a birthday dinner, and I shouldn't expect anything, you know, out of the ordinary. He has said this before, before other events (Christmas, New Year's, my actual birthday, Valentine's Day), and we have not gotten engaged, so I figured he meant it.
Little did I know that months of telling me not to expect anything were simply laying the groundwork for me to...not expect anything.
It turns out he bought the ring weeks ago (as it happens, the day before my real birthday). He told his sister. He told my friend Brian, who was going to be visiting me this weekend. Brian said later that he avoided talkng to me for weeks because he couldnt't trust himself not to say anything.
My sweetie, though, was cool as a cucumber. I had no idea. And here I thought I could read him like a book.
Maybe I should rethink what this means for the years ahead :-).
Here is what I consider our official engagement pic, taken by Brian in Chinatown on Chinese New Year (hence the confetti):
See me waving my (btw, utterly gorgeous) ring? :-)
By way of warning: I expect there will be very little knitting content on this blog for some months to come!
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Happy Valentine's Day
My sweetheart sent me some gorgeous flowers yesterday.
Why yesterday? Because, you see, he hates Valentine's Day. It's a commercial Hallmark holiday, and it bugs him.
So he sent me flowers yesterday, as an un-Valentine's Day present. His way of being contrary without being contrary, I guess.
I was completely surprised. I didn't expect anything, since I know how he feels about the day. He caught me off guard completely.
I love them. I love him.
It got me thinking about Valentine's Day, though. My sweetie is not the first man I've dated who hates Valentine's Day. I attract (and am attracted to) rebels, maybe. I'd never really had an opinion about Valentine's Day--if anything, I used to think it was kind of silly. People (stereotypically women) do seem to get a little crazy about it, demanding wild proofs of love and expensive presents, and I do think that's stupid. I'd rather have a man who supports and loves me every day, rather than someone who gives me fancy presents once a year.
That said, the first time I dated someone who couldn't stop complaining about Valentine's Day, I started to get annoyed. I don't ask for a lot: a bunch of flowers, a kiss, and a tender moment. What's the big deal? I've read a lot of rants today in blogland about how stupid Valentine's Day is, how it's designed to value the superficial over the substantial. But I resent the idea that if I like to receive or give a present on the day, my relationship is founded on sand. It's not an either/or proposition.
To me, Valentine's Day is like Mother's Day. Mother's Day is another made up Hallmark holiday, complete with flowers that cost five times as much as any other day, and jacked-up Mother's Day menus in restaurants. But you can bet I don't call my mom for weeks prior to the day, telling her to expect nothing from me, because it's a stupid holiday, and I show her that I love her on all other days so she doesn't need anything special from me. A card, a phone call on the day: it's so little effort to put a smile on the face of someone you love. What's the problem with this?
All the ranting about Valentine's Day is as childish as the romantic adolescent paroxysms those rants are protesting, a kind of "I won't, and you can't make me." Get a grip: Valentine's Day is what you make it.
My sweetheart made it February 13th. Meanwhile, I bought him something for no reason, just because I thought he'd want it--and called it a Valentine's present to annoy him :-).
Why yesterday? Because, you see, he hates Valentine's Day. It's a commercial Hallmark holiday, and it bugs him.
So he sent me flowers yesterday, as an un-Valentine's Day present. His way of being contrary without being contrary, I guess.
I was completely surprised. I didn't expect anything, since I know how he feels about the day. He caught me off guard completely.
I love them. I love him.
It got me thinking about Valentine's Day, though. My sweetie is not the first man I've dated who hates Valentine's Day. I attract (and am attracted to) rebels, maybe. I'd never really had an opinion about Valentine's Day--if anything, I used to think it was kind of silly. People (stereotypically women) do seem to get a little crazy about it, demanding wild proofs of love and expensive presents, and I do think that's stupid. I'd rather have a man who supports and loves me every day, rather than someone who gives me fancy presents once a year.
That said, the first time I dated someone who couldn't stop complaining about Valentine's Day, I started to get annoyed. I don't ask for a lot: a bunch of flowers, a kiss, and a tender moment. What's the big deal? I've read a lot of rants today in blogland about how stupid Valentine's Day is, how it's designed to value the superficial over the substantial. But I resent the idea that if I like to receive or give a present on the day, my relationship is founded on sand. It's not an either/or proposition.
To me, Valentine's Day is like Mother's Day. Mother's Day is another made up Hallmark holiday, complete with flowers that cost five times as much as any other day, and jacked-up Mother's Day menus in restaurants. But you can bet I don't call my mom for weeks prior to the day, telling her to expect nothing from me, because it's a stupid holiday, and I show her that I love her on all other days so she doesn't need anything special from me. A card, a phone call on the day: it's so little effort to put a smile on the face of someone you love. What's the problem with this?
All the ranting about Valentine's Day is as childish as the romantic adolescent paroxysms those rants are protesting, a kind of "I won't, and you can't make me." Get a grip: Valentine's Day is what you make it.
My sweetheart made it February 13th. Meanwhile, I bought him something for no reason, just because I thought he'd want it--and called it a Valentine's present to annoy him :-).
Friday, January 19, 2007
I can knit in the dark
My friend Brian has sent me a pair of these.
They are knitting needles, size 10.5, with lighted tips for knitting in dim light. They're hilarious. when I called him to thank him, he related the following story:
I was walking down the street and passed by a store and there were two women in the window knitting with them, so I decided I had to buy them for you.
I went in [I ask, "Was it a yarn store?"] -- yes, it was a yarn store -- and said I wanted to buy a pair for my friend who was a knitter.
She asked me, "What gauge does she knit at?"
I said, "Um, I don't know....."
She said, "Well, what does she like to knit?"
I said, "Ummm...she knit me a scarf, once...." [this was the scarf I knitted in grad school, fifteen years ago, the very first thing I ever knit]
She rolled her eyes, and sighed very loudly. I said, "I am just going to choose them by the color I like, and you can tell me if it's an unreasonable size."
And that's what he did. They're a nice purple. Isn't he sweet?
They are knitting needles, size 10.5, with lighted tips for knitting in dim light. They're hilarious. when I called him to thank him, he related the following story:
I was walking down the street and passed by a store and there were two women in the window knitting with them, so I decided I had to buy them for you.
I went in [I ask, "Was it a yarn store?"] -- yes, it was a yarn store -- and said I wanted to buy a pair for my friend who was a knitter.
She asked me, "What gauge does she knit at?"
I said, "Um, I don't know....."
She said, "Well, what does she like to knit?"
I said, "Ummm...she knit me a scarf, once...." [this was the scarf I knitted in grad school, fifteen years ago, the very first thing I ever knit]
She rolled her eyes, and sighed very loudly. I said, "I am just going to choose them by the color I like, and you can tell me if it's an unreasonable size."
And that's what he did. They're a nice purple. Isn't he sweet?
Monday, January 15, 2007
Weekend of knitting
It's MLKJ weekend, so I have celebrated by knitting.
I have finished the first of my toe-up socks:
It fits my boyfriend perfectly, so I am pretty proud of myself. Now...must fight Second Sock Syndrome!
I also took a break from the sock to knit this:
This is knit from an Insubordiknit Monster Hat kit. The handspun yarn is beautiful and soft, and I really enjoyed working with it.
Being a Monster Hat kit, it came with this lovely little monster patch:
(It has an open skull)
But, once I got the hat knit, the monster didn't really seem to fit it. I will have to use him for something else.
The hat is topless because I have a big head, and I like hats to cover my ears. I knew, therefore, that I would not have enough yarn for a full coverage hat, so I designed this, which I suppose technically is more of a headband. I like this design, though, because it lets me keep my ponytail neat:
I have finished the first of my toe-up socks:
It fits my boyfriend perfectly, so I am pretty proud of myself. Now...must fight Second Sock Syndrome!
I also took a break from the sock to knit this:
This is knit from an Insubordiknit Monster Hat kit. The handspun yarn is beautiful and soft, and I really enjoyed working with it.
Being a Monster Hat kit, it came with this lovely little monster patch:
(It has an open skull)
But, once I got the hat knit, the monster didn't really seem to fit it. I will have to use him for something else.
The hat is topless because I have a big head, and I like hats to cover my ears. I knew, therefore, that I would not have enough yarn for a full coverage hat, so I designed this, which I suppose technically is more of a headband. I like this design, though, because it lets me keep my ponytail neat:
Thursday, January 11, 2007
More socks
Here are better pictures of the black socks.
I am knitting these out of Smiley's cashmere, using a pattern I've cobbled together myself. I am using Judy's magic cast-on, wiseneedle's proportions and heel, and a mistake rib pattern on the top of the instep and aound the leg.
Here's a close-up of the cast-on:This is my first pair of toe-up socks, and I chose this cast-on because, I have to admit, I have a block against provisional cast-ons. They seem fussy to me, for some reason. Anyway, this is gloriously simple, and produces, with little or no effort, a totally seamless toe. Since I hate seaming and grafting, I love the idea of totally seamless socks!
The heel I am less happy with:
You can't really see it here, but it looks crummy. I don't like having to pick up two wraps on the same stitch. Sometime I could only get one. This is definitely too fussy and annoying for me. I am debating whether to switch to a Sherman heel on the second sock, or do this one again for the sake of making them identical.
I love the mistake rib--it's pretty, but not too feminine since I am making these for my sweetie. I like the strong vertical lines, and also the 3-D aspect--the ridges stick out nicely. On the top of the instep, I used 27 stitches in order to have both edges of the pattern match; one I got the leg, I added a stitch so that the leg is 56 stitches around. I knit the stockingnette sole on 6s and the mistake rib on 4s because the rib comes in a wider stitch gauge. But it also comes in at a shorter row gauge, so I had to throw in a couple makeup rows. On the leg, I'm on 4s the whole way around, but I am thinking of gradually increasing my needle size as I go up to incorporate some easy leg shaping. We'll see!
We'll also see if I can repeat all of this improvisation on the second sock...because I'm not taking notes :-).
Monday, January 08, 2007
Multitasking
I just want to take a moment to crow:
Crow about what?
The sock, which I am making toe-up with a fabulous magic cast-on? The fact that I've designed the thing myself, and it looks mighty nice?
No. That will be later (with a better picture).
I'll give you a hint. See that manuscript under the sock? It's a manuscript I am reading for work. It's quite an interesting one, about dreams, and the place of the image in religion (it argues that Judeo-Christian religion is a religion of the word). I am about 110 pages in.
No, I didn't write this manuscript (good grief).
No, I didn't acquire it; I am not its editor.
Give up?
I have figured out how to read while knitting.
Crow about what?
The sock, which I am making toe-up with a fabulous magic cast-on? The fact that I've designed the thing myself, and it looks mighty nice?
No. That will be later (with a better picture).
I'll give you a hint. See that manuscript under the sock? It's a manuscript I am reading for work. It's quite an interesting one, about dreams, and the place of the image in religion (it argues that Judeo-Christian religion is a religion of the word). I am about 110 pages in.
No, I didn't write this manuscript (good grief).
No, I didn't acquire it; I am not its editor.
Give up?
I have figured out how to read while knitting.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
An Ode to Honeycrisps
Warning: no knitting content here!
Let me first say: I don't like apples. I never have. And I've given them a very good chance: I've tried Granny Smiths, MacIntoshes, Galas, Fujis, Cortlandts, Macouns, Braeburns. And some are better than others. Some are passable enough that I've thought, "This isn't bad. Maybe I'll buy more." So I buy two or three more, I eat one, and the rest sit in my fridge for months until I finally give up and throw them away. I eat apples, when I eat them, because they're good for me. Not because I like them. They are never sweet enough, juicy enough, crisp enough. They are always just a little too mealy, with a skin that turns to leather in my mouth and refuses to be swallowed no matter how long I chew. I don't like apples.
Sometimes, I bake them in pies, and then they are yummy.
Then, one day last month, I was in the grocery store, once again eyeing the apples and thinking, "It's winter. It's apples or nothing. Try a new one. Maybe, just maybe, this time, you'll find it." I saw a kind I'd never seen before, a Honeycrisp. Its name suggested sweetness and crispness, two things I feel are lacking in every apple I've ever tried. I know apple names mean nothing (Red Delicious, anyone?), but I bought a couple. Why not.
I took them home. I dutifully ate one.
I loved it. It is everything I've always wanted in an apple--sweet, crispy, and so juicy you have to suck on it a little when you bite it, or juice might run down your arm. It is the first and only apple I have ever eaten as a treat. I take one to work and I eat it at 10:30 because I can't wait 'til lunch. You know how diet gurus are always telling you to eat apples when you want something crisp--like potato chips--or sweet? I've always thought that people who advise this must hate food. They must never have eaten a potato chip in their lives.
Maybe they've been eating Honeycrisps.
Alas, they are hard to find. When I ran back to the store to buy more, they were gone. I've since found more at the farmer's market (I bought four. Then I went back and bought five), but that's a bit of a trek. Then, tonight I found some at another grocery store, after visiting three other stores in vain. I grabbed seven before they disappear again.
I'm obsessed. If you see some when you're out shopping, buy them. Eat one, and send the rest to me (kidding).
(Kind of.)
Fickleness, thy name is Knitter
Well, small knitted gifts are past, and I am back to thinking about sweaters.
No, I am not working on either of my two sweater WIPs. Yes, this is the beginning of an entirely new sweater. I am fickle. On the bright side, though, it's a true stash buster, using Berroco Pleasure, an angora blend yarn I've had for some time, awaiting the right project. That project is this:
From the Spring/Summer 2005 Vogue Knitting, a pattern by Norah Gaughan, who always has interesting designs. I fell in love with the construction of this--the lace strip comes down one side of the opening, turns at the bottom, and comes back up the other side. The sweater is therefore closed at the bottom--it is not a cardigan.
I have a weakness for unusual design--this summer I made a Roundabout Tank top from Gaughan's book KNITTING NATURE, which was essentially a strip that wrapped around the body. Not the most flattering thing, but the construction was extremely cool.
In other news, my boyfriend has requested a pair of socks. I've knitted him things (hats) before, of course, but never at his request. I'm pretty pleased that he likes my knitting enough to ask for something, and I am busily planning the socks. I think I will try making this pair toe-up, which will require my learning a provisional cast-on.
I will get back to the Kool-Aid sweater eventually--right now it's winter, though, and even though it's been remarkably warm so far this season, I am hankering for a nice fuzzy sweater. Which I will probably not finish until July :-).
Thursday, December 28, 2006
The seduction of big needles
Well, I've finished the baby blanket:
(Here's the back)
This has to be something of a record for me: start to finish in one week. Granted, I have been home with nothing but knitting, sleeping off a cold, and laundry to do for the last several days, but on the other hand, there were Christmas Eve and Christmas in there, when no knitting got done. You saw my last post--I had all of six, maybe eight inches done. Now here I am, two days later, with a full 29" of baby blanket to show.
How can this be, you ask?
Well. It's the size 17 needles, of course. Blue Sky Organic Cotton is worsted weight, normally knit on size 9s or so. But the herringbone stitch requires a bigger-than-usual needle, and thus I am done in a flash.
I like the Blue Sky Organic Cotton a lot, but I am somewhat concerned that, nice though it looks, this may not have been the right stitch for it--it seems to be pilling a bit already. Being unmercerized and loosely spun, I guess it is more prone to pilling, and I should therefore probably have knit it much tighter. We shall see how it looks after I run it through the wash (yes, the wash: it's a baby blanket, and what's a baby blanket that is not washable? Worse than useless, I say). I might get lucky--the pilling is manifesting as a slight fuzz that might end up being more charming than ratty, and the blanket should shrink some in the wash, and tighten up. We can only hope. And it is wonderfully soft, perfect for a baby.
I guess, since the baby's not due for over a month, I have time to knit something else :-).
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
After Christmas pictures
As promised, some pictures. On some blogs you will see boring pictures of smiling kids in front of Christmas trees. Here, you get knitting: 
I am knitting this out of Blue Sky Organic Cotton (another true stash buster); the colors are naturally grown in the cotton; no dyes used. It's wonderfully soft and has a lovely sheen. I am using a stitch pattern I took from a poncho pattern in Last Minute Knitted Gifts; you will never convince me that ponchos are a good thing, but the stitch pattern is lovely.
I hope you had a great Christmas! Mine was really wonderful, despite a nasty cold, and my very sweet boyfriend gave me a copy of Socks, Sock, Socks (despite feeling a bit embarrassed standing in the Knitting/Crocheting section of the Barnes & Noble, he persevered until he found it), so I have many new plans for the new year.
Dad's socks, on my feet (note how the toes turn up because they're too big for me :-).
My dad loves them. As it happens, he had been looking for some warm socks, and had been unable to find any. Their house can get quite cold, and he had been searching high and low for wool socks, with no success. So, these cashmere beauties were very timely. He was so excited I think I may have to knit him another pair--if he wears these every day, I suspect they will not last long!
Here is the baby dress, knit out of Knitpicks Shine Worsted. I adapted a Debbie Bliss pattern, changing the yarn weight from fingering to worsted, and adding the stripes, because I didn't have enough yarn in either color to make it solid (yes, this was a true stash buster!). I think it turned out very fine. The adorable baby was born on Thursday, December 21, a day or two after I finished the dress.
And, here are the beginnings of the baby blanket for the baby due in February:
A closeup of the herringbone texture:
I am knitting this out of Blue Sky Organic Cotton (another true stash buster); the colors are naturally grown in the cotton; no dyes used. It's wonderfully soft and has a lovely sheen. I am using a stitch pattern I took from a poncho pattern in Last Minute Knitted Gifts; you will never convince me that ponchos are a good thing, but the stitch pattern is lovely.
I hope you had a great Christmas! Mine was really wonderful, despite a nasty cold, and my very sweet boyfriend gave me a copy of Socks, Sock, Socks (despite feeling a bit embarrassed standing in the Knitting/Crocheting section of the Barnes & Noble, he persevered until he found it), so I have many new plans for the new year.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
A recipe
I have finished dad's socks; they have been shipped off (with mom's socks) to the parents, and will arrive in time for Christmas. Whee!
Baby dress is also done, for the baby who was due on Saturday but has not yet arrived. Her mother is going to the hospital today to give her a little "inducement".
Pics to come shortly. Though, happily, dad's second sock looks much like the first, so you could just imagine the last picture doubled.
As a result of the FO frenzy, last night I found myself with no knitting demanding attention (what's that you say? I can't hear you. Did you say something about a "Kool-Aid lace sweater"? Did you say "Somewhat Cowl sweater"? I do not understand you; you'll have to speak up). I've brought out the yarn for the baby blanket I plan for the February baby, but in my swatching I have discovered I need a bigger needle, and I cannot borrow such needle from a friend until tomorrow.
So, I stopped in a farmer's market on the way home and picked up some collard greens and onions, and made a very fine soup, if I do say so myself.
And so, in my first official Departure from Knitting Entries, a recipe of sorts:
Collard Green Soup
Serves 2, with leftovers
Remove the tough ribs from a bunch of collards and tear the leaves into eatable pieces. Wash them.
Chop two small onions and smash several (about five or six) cloves of garlic. Melt a tablespoon of butter in a largish pot over medium heat and saute the onions and garlic. When the onion is soft, splash in some soy sauce.
(I added the soy sauce because I lacked bacon or ham or some other smoky, salty thing, the usual accompaniment to collards. I probably put in a couple tabelspoons, enough to give some flavor but not enough to taste of soy sauce.)
Add about 1/3-1/2 cup of white wine, and boil for a few seconds to cook off the alcohol. Pour in two cans of less-sodium fat free chicken broth (see how healthy this is?). Bring to a boil, then stir in the collards. Cover and simmer for 1/2 an hour.
Drain and rinse a can of white beans and add them. Simmer another fifteen minutes, or until beans are soft. Then season to taste with cumin (for more smoky flavor), salt, pepper, and cayenne. I made mine spicy with plenty of pepper and cayenne. Simmer another five minutes or so.
This was really delicious, and scary healthy. Low fat, high fiber, vitamin rich, and perfect for my sweetie, who has a bad cold. Sheesh.
In other news: Kimono Angora is on sale at WEBS. What's that you say? I already have 11.5 skeins of Kimono Angora burning a hole in my yarn stash? You'll have to speak up--I can't hear you over my drooling....
Baby dress is also done, for the baby who was due on Saturday but has not yet arrived. Her mother is going to the hospital today to give her a little "inducement".
Pics to come shortly. Though, happily, dad's second sock looks much like the first, so you could just imagine the last picture doubled.
As a result of the FO frenzy, last night I found myself with no knitting demanding attention (what's that you say? I can't hear you. Did you say something about a "Kool-Aid lace sweater"? Did you say "Somewhat Cowl sweater"? I do not understand you; you'll have to speak up). I've brought out the yarn for the baby blanket I plan for the February baby, but in my swatching I have discovered I need a bigger needle, and I cannot borrow such needle from a friend until tomorrow.
So, I stopped in a farmer's market on the way home and picked up some collard greens and onions, and made a very fine soup, if I do say so myself.
And so, in my first official Departure from Knitting Entries, a recipe of sorts:
Collard Green Soup
Serves 2, with leftovers
Remove the tough ribs from a bunch of collards and tear the leaves into eatable pieces. Wash them.
Chop two small onions and smash several (about five or six) cloves of garlic. Melt a tablespoon of butter in a largish pot over medium heat and saute the onions and garlic. When the onion is soft, splash in some soy sauce.
(I added the soy sauce because I lacked bacon or ham or some other smoky, salty thing, the usual accompaniment to collards. I probably put in a couple tabelspoons, enough to give some flavor but not enough to taste of soy sauce.)
Add about 1/3-1/2 cup of white wine, and boil for a few seconds to cook off the alcohol. Pour in two cans of less-sodium fat free chicken broth (see how healthy this is?). Bring to a boil, then stir in the collards. Cover and simmer for 1/2 an hour.
Drain and rinse a can of white beans and add them. Simmer another fifteen minutes, or until beans are soft. Then season to taste with cumin (for more smoky flavor), salt, pepper, and cayenne. I made mine spicy with plenty of pepper and cayenne. Simmer another five minutes or so.
This was really delicious, and scary healthy. Low fat, high fiber, vitamin rich, and perfect for my sweetie, who has a bad cold. Sheesh.
In other news: Kimono Angora is on sale at WEBS. What's that you say? I already have 11.5 skeins of Kimono Angora burning a hole in my yarn stash? You'll have to speak up--I can't hear you over my drooling....
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Holiday madness
I've been slow to update the blog because holiday madness has taken over, and I have not done much knitting. This is starting to make me very nervous, as I still have one sock for dad to finish before Christmas!
Alas, because I am basically making up the sock (combining a couple different patterns and making up the heel flap based on the one [one!] I've done before--this caused by my failure to bring the right items on the plane with me), I made an error in second sock. OK, two errors: 1) I made the ribbbing one row too long. 2) I flipped the stitch pattern around to make symmetrical socks, without realizing that this meant I had to change the ribbing from k1, p1 to p1, k1.
Now, I caught error 1 fairly early, but I thought it wouldn't bother me. I told myself that my dad would never notice one extra row of ribbing and I don't have a lot of time; I should just keep going. Naturally, after another inch of knitting I concluded I Just Couldn't Bear It. So, I tried to fix the problem by dropping stitches and hooking them back up, only to discover error 2. Error 2 was noticeably ugly. I think even someone not anal about knitting would notice it.
Now, I know knitting is a forgiving craft. I know I could have fudged something. But I think fudging would have taken just as long as what I did: I frogged the whole thing and started over. >sigh< It took me only about three hours to get back to where I was, so perhaps in the grand scheme of things I have not lost a great deal of time. But: I have to ship the presents in time for Christmas, which means, by my reckoning, I have until Tuesday to finish the socks.
Guess what I will be doing this weekend? Baby dress (for a baby due any minute) has been put aside for the sock. All other projects are on hold. I am not even to think about/swatch for/fondle the yarn of a baby blanket I plan to make for a February baby. And I certainly am not to start fantasizing about this:
Alas, because I am basically making up the sock (combining a couple different patterns and making up the heel flap based on the one [one!] I've done before--this caused by my failure to bring the right items on the plane with me), I made an error in second sock. OK, two errors: 1) I made the ribbbing one row too long. 2) I flipped the stitch pattern around to make symmetrical socks, without realizing that this meant I had to change the ribbing from k1, p1 to p1, k1.
Now, I caught error 1 fairly early, but I thought it wouldn't bother me. I told myself that my dad would never notice one extra row of ribbing and I don't have a lot of time; I should just keep going. Naturally, after another inch of knitting I concluded I Just Couldn't Bear It. So, I tried to fix the problem by dropping stitches and hooking them back up, only to discover error 2. Error 2 was noticeably ugly. I think even someone not anal about knitting would notice it.
Now, I know knitting is a forgiving craft. I know I could have fudged something. But I think fudging would have taken just as long as what I did: I frogged the whole thing and started over. >sigh< It took me only about three hours to get back to where I was, so perhaps in the grand scheme of things I have not lost a great deal of time. But: I have to ship the presents in time for Christmas, which means, by my reckoning, I have until Tuesday to finish the socks.
Guess what I will be doing this weekend? Baby dress (for a baby due any minute) has been put aside for the sock. All other projects are on hold. I am not even to think about/swatch for/fondle the yarn of a baby blanket I plan to make for a February baby. And I certainly am not to start fantasizing about this:
What, you might ask, is this? This is ten skeins of Kimono Angora. Ten skeins, won on eBay for very respectable amount. Ten skeins in the same colorway (though not the same dyelot) as the leftovers I have from my mom's socks. Which means I really have 11, maybe 11.5 skeins. I am drooling over the sweater I am giong to make with this!
Monday, December 04, 2006
Hawaii is not for knitters
So, I haven't been knitting much (I know!), because I have been on vacation in Hawaii (the Big Island). I have to admit: hiking, kayaking and snorkeling, not to mention volcanoes, mountains and beaches, don't leave a lot of room (or energy) for knitting.
Nevertheless, it does take thirteen hours to get to Hawaii, including the layover in LA--that's as long as it takes to get to Japan. (Actually, now that I think about it, the plane tickets to Japan in March were cheaper than to Hawaii in November. Hmm.) So, some knitting did get done, to wit:
One sock for dad, knit out of 100% cashmere from Smiley's.
I've also made progress on my Kool-Aid project:
This is the beginnings of the sleeve of the Vogue lace sweater. It's hard to really see the pattern, since lace benefits hugely from blocking, but I'm quite happy with it so far. As you can see, the variegations in the colors are making some nice subtle stripes, which I am liking quite a bit. I hope different balls don't lead to different patterning (always a danger with handpainted variegated yarn). But so far, I'm pleased.
Nevertheless, it does take thirteen hours to get to Hawaii, including the layover in LA--that's as long as it takes to get to Japan. (Actually, now that I think about it, the plane tickets to Japan in March were cheaper than to Hawaii in November. Hmm.) So, some knitting did get done, to wit:
One sock for dad, knit out of 100% cashmere from Smiley's.
I've also made progress on my Kool-Aid project:
This is the beginnings of the sleeve of the Vogue lace sweater. It's hard to really see the pattern, since lace benefits hugely from blocking, but I'm quite happy with it so far. As you can see, the variegations in the colors are making some nice subtle stripes, which I am liking quite a bit. I hope different balls don't lead to different patterning (always a danger with handpainted variegated yarn). But so far, I'm pleased.
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