A Lacy Summer

Having joined up with Bells' Long Lacy Summer yet again, I thought the christening shawl would be a breeze. I'm pretty good with lacework and it tends to speed along.














Not this time, I'm afraid. I don't know if it's the patterning in each row which causes me to slow down, or just the lack of knitting time available but I just don't seem to be getting far.

I'm currently on row 108 and I have plenty more to go. I'm trying to get a section down each week, and I still have 6 rows left in the section I have to finish before Sunday. Shouldn't be too hard, really but I also have to do all the household-y work, not to mention the Squishie (when he's awake - his morning nap is the perfect blogging time!) who is a real time stealer, especially when he's beaming at me.

My wake up at 5am plan is actually working quite well, except for the part where I use it for knitting. At the moment I use it entirely for housework, because the post-Christmas disaster I call my home really was a disaster. Hopefully by the end of the weekend I'll be back in to knitting time, but I can't do my usual knitting routine of watching a dvd while I'm knitting this shawl; it's hard to concentrate on a film when you need to concentrate twice as much as normal on your knitting.














The worst part of this pattern is that it has two parts: the lines of lace flowers down the corners and the main panels. The flowers are a 18 row repeat, which means that I'm keeping track of two patterns as I go. It gets easier if I'm working on it continuously, but this stopping and starting means that I'm getting a bit lost.

I'm thinking that a big push might be in order tomorrow, especially as I have no plans to leave the house in this weather: 34 degrees all weekend!

I don't know everything

It was a bit of a shock to be pulled up short by the christening shawl I'm currently working on. The knitted lace (not lace knitting) section required me to knit two together. Easy! Anyone can do that. The problem was that the two stitches to be knit together were a knit and a yarn over.

Looking at the potential stitch, it seemed that the only way to knit it was to knit through the back of the two stitches, lest the YO become a tightly stretched thread and the hole it created disappear. So I tried that. It worked, but the twisted stitch looked completely out of place.

I decided to look it up on Ravelry - where would we be without it? According to the pattern listing, no-one else had any problems with row 105. I seriously contemplated messaging the creator, Dorothy Siemens, to ask what to do.

After about 20 minutes of hesitation I gave up and went to bed. Yesterday morning, in a brief moment of "Quick! He's asleep!" I decided to try again.

I looked at the two stitches again, looked at the pattern - still K2tog - and did just that. The YO didn't pull tight, the hole was relaxed and lovely and I learned a very valuable lesson: designers do actually know what they're doing, especially with lace. I think I know so much about knitting just because I've been knitting for years (31 years this March) yet something like this has pulled me up.

Knitting resolutions for the year? Find out more. Read up on the history of what I love, find new techniques (I used cable cast on until I was 28. Pffffffft!) which are always brought up on Ravelry, challenge myself more. This could be a little hard with Marcus around, but if I have to get up at 5am every morning to do it, then I will.

Forget lemonade, we're moving onto clear spirits...

Port Macquarie is lovely (apart from the vile humidity). How can you not love a place where you can see this many wonderful birds at once? (My in-laws backyard.)




















Marcus enjoyed himself immensely, especially at Lake Cathie (it's apparently pronounced Cat-eye, not Cath-ee. Freaks, I tells ya).




















This picture was taken just before his butt hit the water and he lost it completely.

However, Port Macquarie has one small problem: it is 1200 kms away, and now my darling Felix has promised we need never visit there again. Why? Because the drive home was just as bad.

First stop was at Taree at 10:30am on Saturday to feed the Squishie (Did I mention that's what Marcus has been called since he was a week old?). All was going well until we returned to the car to discover that the battery was completely dead. Somebody* had left the lights on and drained the battery, so we called the NRMA, who decided that telling us sixty minutes and taking two hours with no reason was perfectly fine.















Were it not for my knitting I would obviously have gone insane. I got some pretty odd looks while we waited, but K.I.P. will do that. Eventually we hit the road again, with me driving through torrential downpours only to stop 10kms before Buladelah.




















Yep, another tailback, another batch of knitting - luckily only one hour before the tailback ended. We stopped just before the town at a Revive centre to grab a coffee which was when I declared: no more holidays ever ever EVER again. The rest of the day consisted of driving as hard and as fast as I legally could, making Goulburn by nightfall. 600km in just 12 hours...bah.




















First stop this morning? Look Squishie - it's a really BIG sheep!




















He loved his little take-home version too.

Felix drove today and I managed another 10 rows of my Garden shawl, bringing me up to a total of 100 rows - only 79 to go, not counting the border, obviously. The only reason I managed so much knitting today was the brilliance of my boys. Felix drove and Marcus, well...















Nothing like the world's best traveler to help his mother keep her sanity. Now for a medicinal fortified!

* It wasn't me, and Marcus can't drive...

Finished Objects 2009

Well, the post is a day late but humidity plays nasty tricks on the mind (only 68% today).


















We had a very non-eventful NYE here: watched "The Glenn Miller Story" with my in-laws and Felix while we waited to see if Marcus would wake up in time for us to see the local fireworks at 10:00pm; he slept until 10:30pm and grizzled so much that our midnight saw Felix, Marcus and I all lying down trying to go to sleep.



















Despite the shortness of my 2009 list I think I still went pretty well. I think we can all agree that number 19 was my greatest work for the year, if not my life.

Happy New Year all.

• Grey Jacket
• Marcus
• Alphabet Blanket
• Aqua Grey Seamless Booties
• Mintie Booties
• Alpaca Booties
• Brioche Baby Booties
• Alpaca Hat
• Wee Willie Winkie
• Dodecaheeeeeeeedron!
• Green Baby Booties
• Baby Argyle Vest
• Baby Wraparound
• St Kilda Socks
• Endpaper Mitts
• Ruby Red Hot Water Bottle Cover
• Kingsford Smith Hat
• Lenny the Bunny
• Lace Beret
• Celtic Hearts Shawl
  

How do I make lemonade from this?

I'm a Christmas junkie. The redder and more glittery covered the celebration, the better (Glitter: the herpes of the craft world). This year was no exception to my usual OTT-ness.





















This is what happens when I go nuts in the kitchen. I forgot to take photos of the 120 gingerbread stars or the few chocolate-coated coffee spoons I produced, but the gingerbread house was a given. It disappeared rapidly on the day, evenly divided between us all (Felix and I got half a roof which is apparently a fair share...).

The day itself was pretty good. Marcus was suitably spoiled with presents, including a small bike and lots of soft squishie toys. He deserved spoiling.




















How can you not spoil someone who looks this cute? (As promised, Sonia!)

The next morning saw us up and out early to drive to Yass. I shall skip over the bad bits: scraping the skin off one of my knees, the car dying on the side of the Hume Highway, the RACV taking TWO HOURS, Felix's sunburn from walking up and down the roadside with Marcus while we waited for the RACV etc etc. Needless to say we got to Yass late.

We left Yass on the Sunday nice and early so we could make it to Port Macquarie nice and early. I was happy, working on my Garden Shawl for the Long Lacy Summer, with Felix clocking up the hours for his L's. We didn't count on the Buladelah nightmare.



















17 kms. Two hours. You can drive faster through a shopping centre. Kudos to the guys in the van behind for offering their beer bong to share. By the end of the nightmare I was driving again, desperately trying to get to Port before dark. Not a chance.

You see, it's been raining in NSW. Since Saturday. Port Macquarie is lovely, except right now it's 23 degrees and 85% humidity. Everything feels damp, including me. My knitting charts are wrinkling up with moisture, and they feel damp to touch. I have never felt so grossed out in my life. Ew. Big time ew.

I suppose the good side is that I'm getting some knitting done, but to be honest if it wasn't for the great company here I would have turned the car around on the Hume Hwy, just past Wallan...

Stitch Culture

In March next year, my husband will be celebrating his 30th birthday. That same day the two of us will take Marcus to our local church to be christened. He will have three godparents: Judith, the ubergoddess of knitting; Jonathan, a reprobate Terry Pratchett fan I've known since high school and despaired of ever since; and Chantal.

I've known Chantal for a while now. My ex-boyfriend and she were at uni together, and he recommended that she visit the wool store I used to work at. I remember a very enthusiastic yarn-ho who freely admitted that she had spent an entire summer indoors playing World of Warcraft. We agreed that knitting was a slightly healthier pursuit (My comment that the brilliance of knitting was it could be performed outdoors was met with "So can Warcraft - that's what wireless is for!").

Chantal once told my ex-boyfriend that if we ever broke up, she was keeping me instead of him. I loved her displaced loyalty at the time; then it of course became true. She embraced Felix as the other half of me, and a man who understands the importance of letting me knit at all times, including at the movies. Her own partner, Paul, gained the reputation as a wonderful man the day he went to a closing down sale in Hawthorn and bought up most of the remaining Rowan yarn stock. He doles it out whenever Chantal deems him to have done something wrong or annoying - a really good idea, I think.

Anyway, this long rambling post has a reason. Chantal has opened her own online store: Stitch Culture. I hereby state that I am incredibly biased and want everyone to shop there. New items will be added every week (Chantal is currently working a full time job and studying for her MBA while she opened the store - mad, I tells ya), and there's a wish list for the unsubtle out there (Hey family! My birthday is next week! Go and look at my list, will ya?). The success of this store couldn't happen to a sweeter, nicer, more thoughtful person than our dear Chantal.

Stitch Culture.

Go forth and purchase. Except for the Madelinetosh sock yarn. That's all mine.

No, I really do knit stuff. Honestly...

This is a blog for knitting. I created this blog solely to talk about my knitting, and how it affects both myself personally and also my life. However...














Seriously, how cute is my son?

(We'll return to knitting next time, I swear)

Finished Objects 2009 - #20

The return of the finished object, hurrah!

Turns out that the vomited on baby jacket could in fact be saved for one reason only - centre-pull balls. That's right. The vomit was on the outside, the nice clean unbiled yarn on the centre. Trust me, the jacket was soaked in eucalyptus wool wash for about half an hour as well!

This is the 5 Hour Baby Sweater, Boy Version and it's a super fast knit (obviously). Not five hours, of course, but what do you expect with a newborn floating around? I omitted buttonholes because I just wanted something I could quickly wrap around him if the wind picks up or something like that.


















I would have dressed Marcus in the jacket but considering it's currently 32C and it seemed a tad cruel.

A sad swag

My mum has had the unhappy job of cleaning out my nana's unit, and sorting out all of her things. My nana, bless her, was a packrat, a trait my mother swears she didn't inherit, but trust me - she did. Ask my sisters!

Nana kept everything. EVERYTHING. My Uncle Greg's First Form report card turned up. The newspaper clipping detailing my calisthenics group success at Ballarat in 1983 turned up (no, you're not seeing that picture anytime soon). Cards from my grandparents 50th anniversary were found, along with close to 100 un-used Christmas cards.

My mum dropped by with a pile of things for me, including my Celtic Hearts Shawl that I gave Nana for her birthday this year. My pile included many many photos of me over the years, including one from my birth, Nana's bible and baptism order of service, doilies, tablecloths and tea towels (the really nice Irish linen ones she never used). Oh, and all this.















So many sock needles! I also love the old Aero 8's (4mm), made back when they used actual steel so a stiff knitter like myself couldn't bend them (I can snap bamboo sock needles. It's a tragedy). The sock pattern book is adorable, but the thing I love most is my nana's First Prize certificate from the Mirboo North Annual Show. She was so proud of her red socks winning, and I plan to keep it safe along with my two from the Royal Melbourne Show.

Time, ever shifting

I seem to be accumulating unfinished projects again, most of which I don't have listed on my sidebar here.

I have my star afghan, a new baby hat, a 5 hour baby sweater, a pair of socks for a Christmas present and yet another lace shawl.

On Ravelry I appear to have even more unfinished projects, but that's only because I never listed them as finished, nor took a action photo. Oops.

With Marcus taking up more and more time it appears that knitting time - which used to be 24 hours a day if I felt like it - is becoming increasingly endangered, something I'm quite worried about. Maybe once I catch up on a bit of sleep (HA!) I can stay up late and knit.

All I need are some more episodes of "Midsomer Murder" to watch as I go!

.....ewwww

First, I'd like to say thank you to everyone for your kind thoughts and lovely comments* about my last post. You're right - I will have some lovely memories of my Nana to pass along to Marcus, and I can look back and smile as well.

As for Marcus... a valuable lesson has been learned.

Never, EVER keep your knitting nearby if you're burping your baby. Seriously.

I decided that a small light jacket was needed, so I started on the 5 Hour Baby Sweater (Boy version) using my varigated Patonyle that I have so much of. I worked through the yoke and the sleeves and had just started the main part when Marcus needed a feed. So I fed him and sat him up to burp him, my knitting next to me on the floor.

Projectile vomit. Over my right arm, over the floor and landing right in the middle of one of my balls of Patonyle. A huge amount.

I'm knitting a hat now.

---

* Except you, Sam. I know just what you were thinking when you mentioned Trixie Belden...

My Nana

The last time I posted I spent part of the morning on the phone to my Nana, Lena (Selena). The day after I had Marcus, Nana was admitted to hospital with pneumonia. Not content with such a serious illness at age 91, she decided to move in on more of my son's limelight by having four angina attacks and a heart attack while I was still in hospital myself. I decided a phone call regarding this outright Jonesing of my son's attention was required...

My Nana is my mum's mum, and I spent a fortnight with her and my Pa during the summer holidays when I was a child. I suspect my parents decided a small child was too much on top of three teenage girls for a whole holiday season. It may come as a surprise to anyone who knows me now, but I was a very quiet child. Hand me a book and leave me alone, and that's exactly what my Nana did. I built up a collection of Trixie Belden books that were the envy of all my friends over those summers, and when I wasn't re-reading them all (what are dungerees, anyway?) I was knitting.

My Nana loved knitting and she once won first prize for her handknitted socks at the Mirboo North Show, something she was very proud of. She had the patience of a saint with me, because when I was younger I didn't like to knit the last stitch of the row. Each time she'd knit the stitch and hand my work back to me to start the next row, all the while knowing I'd need her help in a few minutes. Like I said, a saint.

Sadly, we lost my Nana last weekend. We'd hoped she would last until my parents got back from their trip to Sydney on Wednesday, but it was not to be. She was sweet, kind, honest, funny and loyal. My biggest regret is that Marcus will never get to know the truly beautiful great-grandmother he very briefly had.

What the heck?!?

Who turned off spring? Seriously? Melbourne is firmly clutched in winter's icy grip yet again, and here we have two heaters switched on, one of them around the clock for Marcus. Drying cloth nappies isn't much fun around here either.

The first person to mention rainfall and farmers will be shot. I mean it.

In the meantime, the sudden cold snap has brought forth some knitting. Nothing exciting, sorry to say. Merely a 5 hour baby jacket, knitted in Patonyle (3 balls! A sock knitter is out there planning to kill me for them) for Marcus, just until the cold snap is over, and then to wear over the short sleeved outfits that everyone decided to buy him in anticipation of actual warm weather.

My legend

Another non-knitting entry, but my da reads my blog when he can, so this entry is a shout out to him.

Congratulations to Barry Murley, winner of the 70-79 age group 2000m steeplechase at the World Masters 2009.

That's right. My da is the world champion in his age group.

Marcus, Felix and I couldn't be prouder.

For Sonia

As requested, a knit-free, only Marcus post.

Slogging on

First off, thank you all for your lovely comments and well-wishes, they really did make my day - Marcus has wriggled his way into our lives quite cunningly. Unsurprisingly, a new baby can put a cramp on your knitting time. So I'm crocheting instead.















I have 10 balls of Cleckheaton Vintage Hues that I'm crocheting into a floor rug for Marcus (I can say his name now without worrying about my dad finding out! Brilliant!) so he can just lie around and listen in while his dad plays "Guitar Hero World Tour". The drums appear to soothe him.

The pattern is the Baby Starghan and it's really easy once you get the hang of it. I'm planning to use up all 10 balls of my Vintage Hues so hopefully it'll be pretty huge at the end.

Finished Objects 2009 - #19

This has been a pretty big project. It was started in Scotland, safely carried home to Australia, and promptly ignored.

Occasionally I'd pay some attention to it, work on some details, enjoy it, then push it to the back of the queue.

The last month, however, it has had my complete attention.

It was interrupting every thought, every project, every stash hoard, even my Royal Melbourne Show win! Thankfully, at 7:46pm last Wednesday, September 30th, it was finally, completely and utterly finished.

Meet Marcus William.



I can say without fear or favour of contradiction that this is the best work I have ever done. Thanks for listening to me while I worked on him.

Finished Objects 2009 - #18

You all thought I'd never finish this blanket, didn't you? Well the joke's on you peoples!



It was started in March and technically finished in July. The blocking was my big problem. How do you kneel on a floor and pin for an hour when you're eight months pregnant? Re-pinning my Amelia Shawl for the Royal Melbourne Show taught me how - very very slowly and very very carefully. I rushed to pin that one out and got a blood nose for my trouble.



This time I used my parents lounge room, a few blankets and a lot of pins. My mum was amazed by just how many pins were required, but once she counted the points on the blanket, it all made sense.

Now to decide: do I use it for the Boitjie, or do I put it away and jealously guard it for the Show next year?

Wait....Tensionia is REAL?!?!?!?

Apparently praying to the knitting gods can pay off when it comes to the Royal Melbourne Show results.

A commended in "Article or garment using natural fibres or blend" was a pretty huge surprise, except that I don't know which pair of socks it is for!

The next category listed is "Traditional FairIsle" and when I saw my name next to the number "1" I screamed so loud Felix was worried the baby might arrive just to escape the noise. I won the Traditional FairIsle in The Show.












I am not coming off this high for a good few weeks, I swear.

A year already?

Today is the anniversary of Felix and I grabbing some heavily packed suitcases and running away to the UK. We didn't manage five years, let alone five months (thanks Immigration for changing the rules the week we arrived!), but we did meet some exceptionally awesome people and there was snow and a cold Christmas. We also discovered gammon. 'nuff said.

I've been scaring Felix and my mum by telling them that obviously a child conceived in Scotland would have to arrive on the anniversary, so my husband's last words to Boitjie this morning were "Stay in there, okay? Please?!?".

I've almost stopped knitting entirely, as I seem to spend more time sitting about doing nothing. My mum says that I'm "conserving my energy". I say I'm a lazy sod who gets her husband to do all the housework (when my mum isn't dropping over to help). The current warm weather means that I'm off to my mum's today to block the Alphabet Blanket (FINALLY!!!), so at least there's something nice and finished on my radar.

Time to play "Spot the Kitty":















Can you find Her Royal Laziness?