Earthquake and Hemlot Ring

This morning at 6:20 I woke up to the strangest feeling that everything was shaking. But it wasn't just a feeling, everything really was shaking. The wardrobe doors, the cups and bowls and plates on the shelves in the kitchen, everything...
And then the sound of little cat feet racing to safety in their human's bed.
And they dived under covers just as it was all over.
And you think "Wauw, that was just like an earthquake", but then you think "We don't have earthquakes in Copenhagen". But we do.
4,7 on the Richter scale.
Which is probably nothing to those who live in areas where the weather and the geology have far more to offer when it comes to adventure, but here it's quite something.
Everything was fine though, no damage, noone hurt. But the very excited geologist they interviewed for the morning radio news had almost choked on his cornflakes!
And it was quite the topic of conversation on the bus this morning.
"So did the earthquake wake you up?" "Yes" And then varying descriptions of how much everything had been shaking. Some had been wise enough to seek safety in a door opening. Another man's dog had peed with fright. All very exciting.

And I've finished the Hemlock Ring Blanket for my lovely colleague.
890 meters of Kauni 2,5/2 on 7 mm needles.
I was afraid I would run out of yarn before finishing the never-ending edging.
It measures just a bit over 160 cm from edge to edge. It's big.

And I had nowhere to block it properly, but then nor does she, and she probably wouldn't have been too keen on her Christmas present if I had given her instructions on how to block it after washing or to steam press it.
So it doesn't look nearly as perfect and sharp as so many other Hemlock Ring Blankets.
But she loves it.
Almost as much as Laurenz loved it

And Vincent too knows how to appreciate wool blankets.

Oh, well

Oh, life.
I probably don't have to say too much about life working in the financial sector these days.

Since the last time I wrote anything here there has been opera in the park. Requiring a suitably equipped picnic basket:
Small baked tomato and basil tarts.
And small nectarin and marzipan tarts.
"Oh, look they've brought their own little cakes"

And I've had the pleasure of a day with the lovely Linnea and the Economist. An all too short day with me being too tired and them being wonderful.
Copenhagen seems so much more exotic when you have visitors, I'll just have to brush up on my guide-skills.
Linnea brought yarn. Including some of her own beautiful hand-dyed, which is almost too beautiful to use for knitting. And books! Knitting books.

And I have been knitting. And I've finished the February Lady Sweater for my lovely colleague but couldn't find the camera before gifting it, so you'll have to take my word for it.
She loved it. I like knitting for her!

And a few days in bed with a cold and cuddly cats and knitting have proved very productive.
I'm actually knitting a sweater for a man.
Sweater curse or no sweater curse, he needs a hand-knit pullover. (He particularly needs the ribbed pullover from VK winter 06/07.)
And I've realized that I have no clue about men's sizes. But I'm sure that at least one of the boys at work is of somewhat the same height so that I can measure the length of his sleeves. And if there are two or more I can check for consistency.
(Must remember to send out cryptic mass email requesting height of colleagues)
The yarn is Pakucho, an organic fair trade cotton.
I love this. I love that the people who create it are given a fair price, that it enables them to make a proper living - and that it takes up space that could and maybe would be used for coca plants. No pesticides or any chemicals are used at any point from seed to hank. It's soft and lovely and treads softly on the environment.
I am in love with this yarn.

Scarfs are much easier. Henry from Knitty. Fun, interesting, and wonderfully soft and luxurious in a blend of silk and baby alpaca.


And the cats are just being their own cuddly selves.

Knitting for a baby

The past week has very much been work and knitting.
And not just any knitting, but knitting for a baby.
Not something I've tried before, but it's hugely enjoyable and somewhat addictive, I'm afraid. There is no other way you can finish a dress, a hat and a pair of socks in less than a week if not knitting for a wee one.
She's not due to arrive until August, but her mother, my lovely colleague, will be going on maternity leave by the end of this week.
But I could not wait until then to present her with this:
(I was in a bit of a hurry to take the photo as I was running late for work. So it really does look much better in real life, not as if it has just been dropped on the floor and then stomped on by a horde of mad cats. Which is a fairly close description of the situation seconds before the photo was taken)

The dress is largely based on a pattern from Drops/Garnstudio. I changed the waist and borders from boring garter stitch to a pretty ribbed pattern. At least I think it's pretty.

The hat I made up. I had a few gos at the bonnet that's part of the dress pattern, but I don't think tying satin ribbons around the neck of a wriggly baby would be much fun on a regular basis. And the babies I've seen have been very wriggly.
So I decided to do a little hat instead. And it's terribly cute. And I hope the little girl has a small head (a hope shared by her mother).
And the socks are actually "Perfect Baby Booties". I think I would like to make more of them. But attempt to knit the whole lot in the round and maybe top-down, as I suck when it comes to seaming.
My seaming really is wonky and my crochet shows how challenged I am in that particular area, but then it shows its loving handmadeness only so much better.
And handmadeness is very good according to the trend types.
And the mother truly appreciated it.
Her reaction was every knitter's dream.

Stormy weather and what happens when you try to sort your stash

It's madly stormy outside. Probably one of the more autumnal Midsummer Eves.
And I wonder if the summer is ever coming back.
The cats are cosy.
Very much so.
And I'm knitting Coviellos Ruffled Jacket from VK's 25th anniversary issue.
And I've never seen myself as a ruffle-kind of girl. But it is very pretty.
I attempted some tidying up this weekend which extended to sorting the stash (Oh, I have quite a stash by now), and I found this black aran weight wool which should have been a sweater but obviously didn't want to.
And that was the end to the tidying and the start of the Ruffled Jacket.
At present I have a sleeve and the left front, and that's insane as I only started it yesterday afternoon.
It really is a very pretty jacket - but the amount of seaming involved is crazy and the thought of it nearly makes me want to reconsider the yarn's vocation.
But only nearly.
I think it might be only a week or two before I have a brand new handknit jacket.
That's amazing!
The V-neck dress is taking forever and I'm currently in the middle of a very long, monotonous stretch of plain stockinette in the round. Boring.
So for now that is assigned to be knit only when waiting, watching something very interesting on the telly, or for transport.

Now I'm just wondering if I should cast on for another sleeve or the right front or the back. And when to set the alarm for tomorrow morning. The cats usually wake me up, but they're not fail proof.
I'm not expected to be at the office until 11-12, which allows for a lovely, long, slow morning - and some doing laundry and things. And cuddling soft morning cats.
But .... I'm just looking forward to going to work. And I don't know if I want to wait until noonish.
I have not been there since Friday, and it feels like a very long time.
And this is a feeling it's really very strange and hard getting used to. Actual looking forward to going to work.
After all that time dreading the other crappy job.
Besides there is fresh baked bread in the morning.
And sometimes there are bits of pineapple or fresh berries. Meant for yogurt but fine for just nibbling.

I just want to knit and play with the sunbaked cats

Exams are over for now.
It didn't go quite as planned, though.
And for the first time ever I've felt stressed.
Not mentally, but physically. My heart racing like mad, the feeling of tightness in the chest, chest pain, trouble breathing fully. And it has scared the hell out of me.
More so since I have been feeling quite calm and collected although a bit more busy than I would prefer.
I've never felt stressed before, or even thought I could, especially since I've always believed that stress could only truly "happen" when you felt overwhelmed and without control of a situation. And since this is of my own choice I thought I was immune.
But then I may have had too much on my plate this semester.
Work has been busy - both have gone through a months-long period of rebranding and restructuring and that has taken a lot of time and energy.
Now I have set up a meeting with a student adviser at the University - and one with my doctor. And I hope and expect that both will be able to help me find tools and ways to avoid this in the future.
So, when I realized what was going on and why I canceled the exams. It seemed to be the best and safest and easiest way to get around it, and I will work on finishing the papers during the next half year.
And work on not having this reaction at another time.
And so I've been knitting.
I fell in love with Teriokhin's V-neck Dress in the Spring/Summer issue of VK. And I found a lovely cheapish cotton/bamboo blend which seemed perfect and affordable.

I did get gauge using 4 mm. For once. But I liked the fabric better using 3.5 mm needles, so we're already off to a great start. (And I'm working it in the round.)
I didn't like the eyelets in the bottom border. So I skipped those.
And now I'm wondering if those pleats would do anything for me. I doubt it.
I think they're fine for a tall, slender thing like the model wearing it, but with my curvy 164 cm, they are probably .... not quite right.
So for now it's starting out as a V-neck dress and only time will show how it turns out and in which form.

The cats are enjoying the extraordinarily sunny summer weather we're having.

They are far better with sun and heat than I am.

The happy birdwatchers and the red thing

Work has been a bit crazy and busy and time consuming.
But: the cats are happy.
We have a French door opening up to not much else than an all too intimate view into our neighbour's bathroom and the rooftops and the park beyond.
And recently some nice little sparrows playing and twittering in the gutter.
Until yesterday I had an ill assortment of not too healthy houseplants gathered in front of it.
But seeing the cats jumping around in same houseplants for a better view of the birdies, I decided to give them a better and more comfortable spot for birdwatching.
(With less risk of downtrodden orchids and mulch all over the place.)
So away went the plants and instead an old padded bench was installed.
And the cats have been happily twittering at the twittering birds and can now keep a closer eye on our neighbour's grooming habits.
And they didn't sleep a wink all afternoon, which is very unusual.

As for the red thing. I'm actually very nearly done!
And it's very exciting. Mostly because I've made it up as I went along. And also because I may have invented the seamless set in sleeve.
Knitting it has been a bit of a challenge. Not because of the inventing things and making it up, but because the yarn is Laurenz' all time favourite.
He wants to lie on it, play with it, groom it, cuddle it. Anything but let me knit it.
He has very good taste when it comes to yarn. And so when I've wanted to knit this is what I've met:
But all I have left to do now is the neckline. If only Laurenz will let me.

Knitting, cats, and cake

So, I spent the first two weeks of 2008 in bed with pneumonia, and the rest of the time catching up with work and the rest of the world.
But the time under the duvet wasn't entirely wasted. Even if high fever gives me the attention span of an 8-weeks old puppy I have indeed been knitting.
And I've even finished something:
Lois Young's lace tam from A Gathering of Lace. It's very pretty and very warm.

I also very nearly finished Harwood from Rowan Studio 2. And I actually cast on for it minutes after making the list of all the things I wanted to finish. Have no idea how that happened.
And I was very, very, very nearly finished when I decided to try it on (Having sewn one shoulder!). But it was a bit ... narrow in the fit. And I measured, and measured again, and then started counting, and somehow my gauge had changed from 12 st. to 15 st. per 10 cm. Same size needles, same yarn, same ... me.
Again I have no idea how it happened, but it makes a bloody big difference.
(Please note the freshly washed cat-butt)
I have not frogged it yet.
I look at it and feel very pleased with my changing the direction of the cables (because I'm such a sucker for symmetry), and with having stuck with something so long that I nearly finished it. And wonder if blocking would make up for the gauge-problem.
I doubt it.

And because a lot of cables all the time was a bit much, I started something else and sweatery from a very lovely dark red SoftWoolSilk bought in December when I felt rich.
(Please note the freshly washed cat-legs)
Much stockinette, and a lot of making-it-up-as-I-go-along.
It may turn out a mess, it may turn out brilliant. It's too early to say.

And to add to the wip-insanity I cast on for gloves yesterday, having lost or maybe just misplaced the only pair I had left. The Cabled Gloves from VK's anniversary issue.
I love VK even if they have very crappy subscription service.
Yet sometimes keeping an eye on a chart while keeping an eye on your knitting and keeping an eye on the cat, whose butt is likely to cover the chart anytime while the other end of same cat is pawing a bit too enthusiastically at the yarn, and keeping another eye on the movie you are watching is a bit much all at once.
Therefore I missed what may be a vital part of the pattern but I do not mind too much since I'm no big fan of bubbles anyway.


And so I have added a few extra projects to the list of things to finish in 2008.

The cats are now adjusting to the fact that we are no longer staying in bed all day.

And after several long mornings of complaints they have returned to getting baked on the radiator.

Oh, yes, it was my birthday this week.
And since I have two jobs, that means two cakes to bake. Which should be no big deal.
One big carrot cake baked Tuesday evening to bring to job #1 on Wednesday, there are only 10 of us there, so that was just fine.
Except that the company also bought cake. A giant marzipan-covered wonder in no lack of fondant roses and gold dust, and I couldn't help wondering if somewhere there was a medium-sized wedding of the posher sort looking for their cake.
That was a bit overwhelming. And very sweet. My carrot cake looked a little lost and misplaced next to it.

Wednesday night then meant baking for job #2. We are close to 30, meaning Very Big cake.
Very Big carrot cake, because I lack imagination and because I've developed a kick-ass recipe for one!
I mixed egg yolks and sugar and cinnamon and orange juice and oil and grated carrots in a big bowl, while humming merrily and chatting to Vincent, who was yelling at me from the overhead beam. As he likes to do when I'm in the kitchen. Don't ask me why.
And then I went to answer the phone.
And then I had to hang up rather abruptly due to loud crashing noise in kitchen and cat yelp.
But before I made it to the kitchen I met Vincent racing past me covered in lovely egg yolks and sugar and cinnamon and orange juice and oil and grated carrots.
And before I could catch him he rolled on our pretty Oriental carpet.
Then Laurenz went out into the kitchen to investigate. And walk around in egg yolks and sugar and cinnamon and orange juice and oil and carrots. And probably taste it before walking around in it a bit more. Before going back into the living room to wander across the carpet a few times, because that's the sensible thing to do, apparently, if you're a cat covered in egg yolks etc.
And so I had two very sticky cats and a sticky carpet and sticky floors - and only 6 eggs left, by the way.
All I could do was cover myself in layers of hopefully protective clothing and carry a very angry Vincent out into the shower.
And I hope I'll never have to wash him again.
Laurenz only needed his legs and face washed, and he's a bit more laissez-faire in his approach to the world.
And with all the cleaning of the cats, and the kitchen, the floors, and the carpet, I forgot to add the egg whites to the second cake-attempt. Resulting in a very moist and dense carrot cake. But there was no way all that mayhem, and the mess, and the first sticky then wet-and-grumpy cats should have been wasted.
So they would bloody well have to eat it and nod approvingly and say how delicious it is.
But luckily the boys at work think cake is cake, and cake is good.

I felt rather happy I came too late into 2008 to think of inviting guests for my birthday.
Even if I could have used an extra pair of hands when washing Vincent.

Hey, I've actually been knitting

I have finished knitted objects to show!
A pair of fetching fingerless gloves for Katrine, using the softest, most luscious blend of silk and baby alpaca. I hate how much I love that yarn.

Somehow one keeps looking shorter than the other in spite of same number of stitches and rows, same yarn and same needles. But I don't really care too much.
It just adds to the lovely and unique handknitted softness.
I hope she'll appreciate that.

And to add to the long list of WIPs I have started knitting the Vali dress from Rowan Studio 2. I came across the pattern and fell head over heels in love with it.
And they have a finished version on show at my not-so-local-but-favourite yarn store, and it's even more beautiful in person.
Having worked my way through the first 10 cm I feel somewhat confident that the dress will be finished some time this decade.
And I'm using sock yarn. I have a severe crush on Filcolana Arwetta, a soft and lovely superwash merino sock yarn. And now it's dress yarn too.
I have however decided against the lace skirt after a few repeats of the pattern, instead it has become a very nice lacy border matching wonderfully with the bodice stitch pattern.

I want to be able to wear it to work. At the big Investment Bank, where for some odd reason the boys are just too boyish for a lace skirt to be wearable.
Even in their thirties they appear to be still rather amazed and surprised by the fact that women have breasts, and anything hinting at transparency or giving unexpected glimpses of skin seems to disturb them.

And there will be no angelicats this year since Vincent, not so very surprisingly, ate his set of wings.
Maybe next year.

Will November ever end?

November has been good.
I have discovered bagged milk! And bagged yogurt. And it both puzzles me and makes me laugh. And if all the entertainment provided by the packaging wasn't enough, it is very good ecological yogurt!


And I love being back with the Big Investment Bank.
I almost hate how much I love being back.
More so because it's only temporary, a small detail I seemed to miss with the first excitement.
The woman, who took over from me when I left, is ill, maybe long term - bad damage from using a computer mouse it seems.
And I'm only filling in for her.
With a contract ending mid-December.
But oh, how I want them to want to keep me anyway when she returns.
Even if that doesn't seem very likely or really necessary.
But they have noticed how their presentations are just that bit sharper and more elegant once they've been through my hands.
And I've had a chance to say clever things about communicating and using visual means and telling stories.
And so I'm a bit hopeful, but not too much, and I try to just enjoy it, while it lasts. Hoping that it will. Last.
I really enjoy my morning walk past Marmorkirken and through the yard at the Museum of Arts and Crafts.
And the late afternoon ride on the bus home through Kongens Nytorv with its glitter of Christmas fairy lights.
But twice a week I have to go straight to work at the Crappy Call Center.
Which is why I cannot wait for November to end.
Leaving home at 7:30 in the morning not to return until 22:30 at night at the earliest is not my idea of a good day.
I miss the cats. And I think they miss me too.
And I will have had a total of two days off this month, counting next Saturday.
And so I'm tired.
And I have not had time to do as much knitting or as much cat-belly-stroking as I would like.
But then the cats do have their radiator to keep them warm and cosy.

And tonight they have me too. Only too happy to scratch ears and throw toy mice.
And I have a very nice bottle of wine and a lot of double moss stitch to knit, as I really, really want Norah Gaughan's Hex Coat to keep me warm and cosy, since there's not room for me too on top of the radiator.
It doesn't look very interesting, but I'm a bit surprised how much I like knitting it. It's not very exciting but not too boring either.
Quite perfect for my tired self.

On a roll

This has been an extraordinarily good week.
First good thing:
Tuesday I quit my job at the call center.
Out of anger and frustration and fed-up-ness.
I've never been overly fond of it, but it has offered me the flexibility needed to follow courses at the university while working a full week (as needed in order to feed cats and pay rent and buy a bit of yarn now and then). And I've liked a lot of my colleagues. A lot.
And most of the time I've really enjoyed helping the people calling.
Although not the incredibly rude and aggressive ones.
But the pay has been bad, the environment less than charming, and it has been rather draining and tiring. And to make matters worse we got a new so-called team leader a few months ago.
A very ambitious 23-years old girl. And she wants the best team, she says. But only with regards to quantity not quality.
She shows absolutely no knowledge of how to lead or motivate - nor any respect or consideration for neither her colleagues nor her team members.
And Thursday I finally got fed up. Probably as I found no reason in being asked to explain my lack of efficiency in the two weeks following the endoscopy-gone-bad.
I've been told never to quit a job on impulse or in anger. But it felt rather good.
At least until I started worrying. The next day.

But then all tests showed great improvement in the pancreatic and spleenish areas. That is good thing number two, by the way.

Good thing number three: The library finally got me Lace Style.

And number four: Today I dragged my monster of a king-size duvet to the laundromat for its pre-winter washing.
And listened to Bach and knit a bit while watching it whirl around, trying not to think about my being nearly unemployed in less than a month.
And so tonight I have a perfectly clean and fragrant duvet.
And I gave a nice, elderly woman a good laugh as I tried in vain to make the duvet fit into the centrifuge. Not possible. But a good clown-act - and thus good thing number four and a half.

And I do indeed have a new job. That is good thing number five.
Years ago I worked with an investment bank. It was my very first real real job.
Working full-time, 9-5 (or rather 7-21, as it became most days).
And I loved it. During the first two years I took only one day off, and I missed my colleagues. That's how much I loved it.
Until ... I fell in love with a young man I met at a yoga retreat, my step-father was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and suddenly working so much wasn't as fun as it could be. And had been. Of course I had also been burning the candle at both ends for far too long.
And when everything seems to close in on you, well,... I decided the one thing I could change was my job and so I did. There were other reasons. Of course.
But it's a place I've been proud of having been employed with.
And it was, and still is, my favourite job ever. And sometimes I miss it.
And this afternoon I got a call from them asking if I would like to come back, part time, my terms. They understand I have courses and exams.
Of course they would like me to start Monday, but with a bit of work Tuesday should be possible.

I really wish I could have a glass of wine to celebrate. But in a few weeks that should once again be possible.

Oh, yes. Good thing number ...six. My hyacinths, which I have for too long left for dead yet not quite remembered to throw out, have decided to give me a repeat performance.

I just wonder if I should make them little paper hats as you see in photos.
But you never see hyacinths with paper hats in nature, so they should be able to do what they do - without accessories.

Oh yes, I've started knitting the jacket from Norsk Strikkedesign. I'm nearly done with the sleeve. And I'm besotted.

My choice of colours is quite different from the original, and I want to make it into a tunic rather than a jacket. I don't do jackets much. Coats yes, but jackets and cardigans not so much. And I like something I can just slip over my head without fiddling with buttons.
It's very addictive knitting.
So far there's only a tiny bit of puckering and unevenness, but I don't care too much. I still look at it and pet it a bit and feel very proud for being able to manage more than one colour yarn at a time, and for mustering the courage to start it.
And I think I read somewhere that in the good old days they didn't give a f*ck about a bit of puckering here and there as it would all even itself out once given a good wash. I hope it's right. And not just something I dreamt.
And, as I said, there really isn't too much of that anyway.
That has to be good thing number seven.

Bruckner, beer, and bed socks

I have been knitting. Really.
My knitting mojo came back to me in a little brown box all the way from Germany, thanks to the lovely Linnea.
With whom I had the privilege of spending the sunnier part of a beautiful Saturday last week as she and her handsome husband went to Stege for their first wedding anniversary.
It is a very beautiful place, probably the ideal of Denmark, and they are very beautiful human beings.
And the beer was great. A local micro brewery. Very good beer.
There are very few things better than good beer and sunshine.
As I seem to have tossed the camera cable somewhere here is a photo of a flag in a pretty garden - and the reflection of my hands holding my mobile rather awkwardly.

And the bridge to Møn over very calm waters. See how the pattern in the water (on the left) looks just like a swan taking flight. But it's just water.

And here is evidence of me knitting in public.

The bed socks for Laurel using yarn from her very own alpacas. I think this might be the most luxuriously soft yarn I've ever had the privilege of playing with. Fluffy and soft and very warm.
So warm I could not knit with it all summer. But perfect for knitting while doing laundry.
Our basement laundry room is still just the same big hole in the ground, and so the bucket in the shower is still quite busy, but my bed linen does get to go on a trip to the nearest laundromat.

This is what I usually see when reading or knitting in bed:

Or this:

Or:

Or the Tyrolean Stockings from Interweave Knits using Telemark from Knitpicks (from Linnea) in a luscious heathery colour - on a decorative backdrop of cats and white linen.

And the soundtrack to all this is nothing less than Bruckner's Symphonies, mostly the 7th. I've grown a bit obsessed with the good Anton recently. Or maybe just listen more and more attentively than usual.
Besides the beauty of it, I have also found that it is very good for measuring time.
If I start playing it the second I lock the door behind me, I will hear the final bars of the second movement the minute I walk into the parking lot at work. If not I'm early - or late. Considering the morning traffic here early is rarely the case.
And it will also be the soundtrack Monday, when they remove the as yet not completely identified lump of unwelcome tissue in the pancreatic neighbourhood.
I have by now gathered enough images of being prodded and poked and scanned by people in white coats to dream about alien abductions in interesting detail for years to come.
And Monday is likely to add new and interesting layers as they will not knock me out cold, but only keep their work space senseless.
I'm not too keen on that thought.
I've asked if I could at least drink myself senseless, but they say that's not an option.
At the merest whiff of whiskey I'll be sent back home.
But they kindly asked if I had a piece of favourite music I would like to listen to while they rummage about. And I chose Bruckner.
And those 64 minutes should be just enough.

Monkey socks and .... cats

It's just too bloody hot outside these days.
And our little home under the roof is also just too bloody hot these days.
Luckily, or maybe not, the last exam paper is to be handed in Friday, and so I have an absolutely valid reason for sitting in a heap of books and paper on the floor in my pajamas all day, working and eating strawberries, while the cats take turns napping in the chair when not stepping across the keyboard.
And after the Waist-cincher/Boob-enhancer top fiasco (read: challenge I have yet to take up), I desperately needed a quickish knit with guaranteed success (more or less).
Monkey socks!
The pattern reminds me of water falling over rocks more than monkeys, though.
And the Opal Party has finally found its calling.
(Lured by the glamourous life of Linnea's travelling Jaysocks, The Party first wanted to become Jaywalkers, but since trips to Florence and German castles are not part of the pattern and could not be promised, becoming Monkeys was the next-best thing)
I have, of course, chosen to ignore the twisted rib, as I cast on for them at work yesterday, and somehow the word twisted escaped my attention.
Ordinary rib is good enough for me. Much less work.
(The Party first had a short stint as potential Pomatomus, which may or may not be spelled like that, but THAT was too much hard work, and not enough fun. For me. They are beautiful though.)

The Waist-cincher top

I have already finished the first sleeve for the Waist-cincher top.
And I love it so far.
However I have found a few annoyances with the book at this point, as I find the schematics a bit lacking.
It has very nice drawings of Front, Back and Sleeve.
But the Sleeve drawing only shows measurements for the width at cast on edge and the widest point and the length of the sleeve before decreasing for the sleeve cap.
There is no measurement for the full length of the sleeve, nor for the sleeve cap. And in the pattern this part is only given in number of rows.
And this bugs me a bit.
Same with the front, which gives only the measurement of the height of the lacy part - as also stated in the written pattern.
No waist width, no indication of the width of the overlapping parts or the height from under the bust to the shoulder.
And add to this that the pattern itself is also written without an indication of the finished measurements.
Of course I can calculate my way to these measurements counting rows and stitches and using the gauge given.
But then it had been handy if she had also given her gauge for the part using the smaller needles.
This may not be super important, but sometimes it's nice to assure yourself everything is right by using your measuring tape.
And sometimes it's nice to be able to adjust for a narrow waist by knowing beforehand if adjusting is needed.
(And again I think I have been spoiled by the Domiknitrix, as her patterns and schematics are extremely detailed.)
So I'm slightly annoyed - but still very, very happy with the book.
And the sleeve.

And the best morning sunshine is found leaning against the book case.
And I really, really need to chase away some dust bunnies.

You cannot make a silk purse ....

Well, actually you can.
I have been wondering what to do with the gorgeous recycled sari silk yarn Linnea gifted me. (Bearing absolutely no resemblance to sow's ears, except perhaps for a fuzzy softness)
I thought about Calorimetry, as I could use a headband to keep my hair from falling into my face while doing yoga.
But the sari silk didn't want to be a Calorimetry. Nor did I really want it to become all sweaty.
But by then I had become fixed on the idea of bringing the sari silk yarn with me to the shala. In one form or another.
And so it became a purse.

I have for a long time wanted something to hold my money, phone and jewelry (and keys and iPod) during practice, as the changing rooms are most often unlocked and unguarded.
Shoving them into the bottom of my yoga mat bag is possible, but not ideal, and I want to keep the things with me without disturbing visually or otherwise.
And this is perfect.
The yarn became a bit fuzzy, probably from all my petting it lovingly.
And it was amazing to see the colours appear and blend.
It still is.

The beginning of the Elfin Bride

I've had a bit of a fever all week, and today I just could not find the energy to go to work. So I've just been reading, sleeping, and playing with the cats.
And knitting a bit.
I have found my camera, and can now prove that not only has the Elfin Bride/Gothlet pattern been released but I have actually had the courage to start.
Only because the pattern is exceptionally well written and very detailed, and because In addition Jennifer Stafford offers a brilliant visual aid gallery showing the complete process.
I fell in love with this piece of knitted genius during my first forays into the online world of knitting.
And it still seems a bit unreal that I am actually attempting it.
Of course i have already shown disobedience by not using the recommended cotton, mostly because I was eager and impatient to start, and March will be a bit low on the money front, but also because my lovely green Silky Tweed seems so very perfect for it.

And the first sign that it's meant to be, is that first swatch hit gauge right on.

And now that the camera is back, a kitty picture is in order: Vincent says hello.