A Wee Pretty Thing

I actually mean the scarf, but who am I kidding?  The model's pretty too.  I made them both, but not on the same day.  Only human, after all.  The model's Lindsay, and the scarf is my exclusive for next year's Madrona Fiber Arts Winter Retreat.

"Violets".  What could be sweeter?  The yarn here is none other than Socks That Rock Lightweight, made by the unsinkable Tina Newton of Blue Moon Fiber Arts.

If you like BMFA (and who doesn't?) you will LOVE this limited edition kit.  Tina's groupies (myself included) will recall that she doesn't usually produce kits, but she did me a special favor in this case.  We Love BMFA!  "Violets" measures 11.5" x 48", just the perfect length to snuggle under in late winter.  It's worked in the round, then steeked, for easy knitting. Big. Huge. Fun.

The kit costs $60 and is available one of two ways:

1.        Students who sign up for my Eeek! Steeks! class at Madrona will receive one in the mail upon registration.

2.        You can purchase a kit-only from the Blue Moon Fiber Arts booth at Madrona.  They will be available to non-students there, in limited number.  If you really really really want a kit and you're scared they might be gone by the time you make it to the booth (legitimate fear), send me an e-mail and I'll work with BMFA to arrange for a pre-order.  This will also help us know how many kits to create.  

If you attended Eeek! Steeks! with me at Madrona last year, you know what a great time we all had.  If you didn't get in last time, here's your chance.  This is only the second-ever Madrona exclusive design, so if you are planning to become a collector, don't miss the opportunity. 

For the die-hard, here is a list of the official BMFA colorways included (some are not yet available to the public):

Melusine:                The main background color - a "spirit" of turquoise; ethereal.
Mossay:                   The absolute best green in the whole wide world.
Tumbleweed:           Subtle and earthy; the perfect leafy foliage foil.
Saffron Surprise:       The middle of a fried egg.  The first crocus of spring.
Tanzanite:                A real and true, not even kidding Purple Gem.
Happy Go Lucky:     New this year; everything you ever hoped to find in your Valentine.
Vancouver Violet:     Delicate whispers of neither aubergine nor blue.  That secret place between sleep and awake.

Go on, you know you want one.  See you where the violets bloom.
 

Happy Ending

You know what it's like when you get really involved in a great book?  You start to view necessary activities (eating, sleeping) as intrusions.  Anything that takes you away from the compelling nature of you, and the pages, and what will happen next is an extreme inconvenience.

That's what knitting Caroa Dubh has been like.  Will I have enough yarn?  Why can I not make a shawl collar in fewer than eight tries?  Will this even fit me?  Will I have enough yarn?  I just kept turning the pages, fully embroiled in the story.

And it did fit..

And I did have enough yarn.

And even though I still don't fully understand the collar I made, I really like it.

Even the buttons are exactly what I would have hoped for. (Get some for yourself here )

Remember when I said I had only just begun to think about what it would be like to actually wear this yarn?  I didn't know the half of it.  It's hefty.  It's comforting.  And this is a big surprise:  It's silky.  For all its fuzzy hand-spun-itude, this yarn, when knit, is silky and drapey in the way that fur would be, if a person were to wear it.  It's luxurious and indulgent, and downright sexy.

There was just enough chill in the air this morning for me to wear it to the bus stop with the kids.  The breeze was knocking the first of the yellow leaves out of the trees.  The sun was coming up pink over the mountain.  I waved to the Smallies as their bus pulled away from the curb. Then I threw my arms around myself and hugged tight, breathing in the cool morning air and thinking how lucky I am that my job is to make beautiful things, and then share them with my friends.

And, just like when I finish a book I've been deeply engaged in, I am more than a little melancholy to have finished Caora Dubh.  I have that sense of emptiness you get at the end of a really great project.

Of course, there is still the pattern for me to write, should anybody be interested.  Drop me a line if you are.  Ever wonder what the characters in the story do after you close the cover on the last chapter?  I think the rest might be yours to write.
 

Good as a Feast

Today I've been dwelling on the nature of Plenty, and the nature of Enough.  Turns out that in certain circumstances, the two are the same.  But let me back up...

There I was, with one sleeve knitted, and one to go.  I had no idea how sleeve #1 was going to fit into the already-completed armscye, and wouldn't until I had blocked the sleeve and sewn it in.  But I couldn't block/sew sleeve #1 until I knew whether or not there was enough yarn left to complete sleeve #2.  In which wretched case, I would be frogging sleeve #1 to change its design to one requiring less yarn.  And then I would be frogging sleeve #2 to match the new sleeve #1, and still hoping that there would be enough yarn.  And perhaps throwing my feeble self under the next bus.

And that's when it happened.  The Knitting Genius, who is my dear friend, KT said this:  "Weigh the first sleeve, and then weigh all the yarn you have left."  And then she actually waited while I did it.  Sleeve #1 weighed in at exactly 6 oz.  Sleeve 2, plus the remaining yarn, came in at 6 7/8.  Genius KT judged it to be close enough, and advised me to knit on with confidence. 

Scales are so fabulous.  Almost as fabulous as knitters who know how to use them:
 

That wee ball in between the sleeves is the remaining 1 5/8 oz of yarn.  Which means that in spite of Phillip throwing away the second half of my fleece (yes, he still sleeps in the garage), in spite of my lack of restraint in adding a boatload of cables to the design, and in spite of my inability to guess how much yarn is required for a sweater to fit me, I caught a break.  Oh, and did I mention that my collar-knitting odyssey resulted in a collar that swallowed over 300 yards of yarn?  All I can think is that the science of yarn measurement/estimation is flawed, at best.  I know darn good and well that 1600-odd yards of sport-weight should not have been able to afford this garment.  I also know that the same 1600-odd yards that I measured by length also weighed over 2 1/2 pounds. which should have been enough for all the sweater I could want, and a toilet paper cozy to match.  So which estimate was right?  Where did my lukewarm relationship with math fail me?

After all this pondering, and the resulting nosebleed, I decided that it really doesn't matter.  What counts is that I have a whole sweater (or I will, once the seams are sewn), and even a wee bit of yarn leftover with which to sew the seams.  And in the words of Caroline Quiner Ingalls (Laura's Ma), and probably her Ma before her, "enough's as good as a feast".  It doesn't matter if your leftovers fill a teaspoon or a snow shovel, as long as the amount you really NEED is there.

So I'm going to make it a point at this, the time of harvest, to be thankful for both Plenty, and for Enough.  God knows there are many in this world who have never known either.  Take a moment with me, won't you, and express a bit of gratitude for whatever it is you've got?  Sometimes we don't need our cups to overflow.  Sometimes having something in the cup at all is a triumph.

And in case you are wondering, the super-wide sleeve cap is on purpose.  Stay tuned to see if it fits.