Yes Sir, Yes Sir, Three Bags Full

Yeah, Baby!   Prestigious plentitude!  The lovely and talented Marilyn King of Blackwater Abbey has graciously provided a big ol' pile of her dreamy yarn for a new project.  And the best part is: It's For You!  This gorgeous wool is waiting to become a new FREE PATTERN, just for you, my devoted following.  That's right, I said  FREE PATTERN, and it's all yours.  Or it will be,  just as soon as I make it up.  Which will be just as soon as I fix my little train wreck from earlier in the week.  Just as soon as I finish writing 3 more chapters and send my manuscript to the editor.  Just as soon as I design this teensy-weeensy little project that I'm under contract to provide.  Two weeks, tops, and I'll be working on it.  I have placed the yarn on prominent display in my living room as a motivational tool, which so far is working.  I can barely keep my hands off of it.  I'm not telling you anything about the free pattern yet except its name:  "Faery Ring".  I love it already, and I promise, so will you.  I'll post it here, and on Ravelry, and Marilyn will have it on her site, as well.  The color of this yarn is "Bracken", which I would describe as a Complicated Oatmeal.  Definitely has cinimmon and raisins and butter in it.  Delish.

Collateral Damage

It all began innocently enough.  I should be paying myself a nickel for every idea that begins with the words "I'll Just..." 
"I'll just turn all these silly little ideas into a book!" 
"I'll just take care of the housework in my spare time!" 
"I'll just reupholster all the living room furniture myself!"

I should know better, but clearly I do not:

"I'll just do a little rolled hem, using that color of green that I really don't like and then I will like it!"
 

Yeah.  This is the view from my lap yesterday morning.  Total Carnage.  The further I got from that Stupid Mallard Green Rolled Hem, the more I hated it.  To make things worse, the cast-on I chose (albeit, hastily - is there any other way?) was keeping the edge from rolling right.  The hurrier I went, the more I hated the innocent bystander that was this poor sweater vest.  I told myself "Time's a wastin and them sweaters don't knit theirselves!  Press on and it'll grow on you!  Deadline's A-Comin!"

I still hated that Stupid Mallard Green Rolled Hem.  It smirked at me; lying there and refusing to roll up in the jaunty way I had envisioned. 

"HA HA: I'm ugly and you don't have time to frog 6 inches of otherwise unoffending border just to get to me!" 

Okay, the mocking tone might have been my imagination, but by this time I did not like anything the sweater had to say to me.  It was time to toughen up and admit the truth to myself:  "You hate this thing, and neither time nor effort is going to endear it to you, so suck it up and fix the problem.  You know what you have to do."

Ever frogged from the bottom up?  If so, you already know what happened.  If not, imagine trying to untie a spider's web and wind it into a perfect center-pull skein.  There are things in this universe that are not meant to work in reverse:  Bananna peels, the digestive tract of a Scottish Terrier, and the IRS are all good example of things that really don't go backwards very well.  Add Stupid Mallard Green Rolled Hem to the list:

Do not be fooled by this picture into thinking it was a simple matter of pulling on one end of the string, like opening a bag of dog food.  It was Ghastly.  Every few stitches had to be cut, and then getting hold of the shrapnel to yank it free was only possible with the aid of tweezers.  It was enough to make me reassess my whole hatred of the Stupid Mallard Green Rolled Hem in the first place.  But having both reached and passed the point of no return (loosely defined as any time scissors make aggressive contact with knitting) there was nothing for it but to press on.

Ultimately, I prevailed.  The Stupid Mallard Green Rolled Hem has been usurped by the Way Less Stupid Mulled Wine Rolled Hem, to wit:

The new and improved version has the added bonus of not sporting the ugly-ass, non-rolling weirdo cast-on problem suffered by its predecessor.  No, this little gem curls up jauntily, proclaiming to all:  "I came.  I Frogged.  I emerged Victorious." 

Now I'll just... 
 

Same Thing We Do Every Day: Try to Take Over the World

Here's a snapshot for the memory books:  What it looks like when I write knitting patterns.

[sorry - original photo lost; use your imagination]

Here are the tools of the trade:  Calendar to let me know what project I'm supposed to be working on, if I were on schedule (which I usually am not), trusty Moleskine notebook with grid pages for schematic drawing and construction notes I take as I knit things, little box of tapestry needles and stitch markers, leftover yarn, and 11 ball bands from the sweater I just finished.  Don't ask me why, but saving the ball bands as I knit is the only way I can keep track of exactly how much yarn I use.  Why not just write it down?  No idea why, but I always forget and loose track.  At this stage, the sweater I am writing the pattern for is already complete, and has been photographed for my editor, in case she wants to know what I'm up to.  Absent from this shot is a schematic cross-section of the sweater in three sizes, with stitch counts...it fell on the floor.

If you squint really hard, you can see on the calendar that tomorrow through Sunday are devoted to the TKGA classes, show and sale.  I have been looking forward to this for a long time:  4 solid days of knitting and knitters, partying like Shriners!  I hope I will be able to clear my head enough to absorb the instruction.  I am trying not to feel desperate about the time it will take away from book-writing.  After all, all work and no play, blah blah blah.

Can't wait to see what there is to see and meet who there is to meet!