Peachy

One of July's design (over) commitments is a piece for the new 60 More Quick Baby Knits , coming out next year.  True to form when working with Vogue, the design changed radically from what I initially envisioned.  Most notably, in the color.  I pitched stripes, they came back with solid.  Cantaloupe solid, no less.  I begged to add just one more color.  They said okay, but it has to be more of the same: Coral.  Done, said I, feeling like I had reclaimed a bit of lost intellectual ground.

And you know what?  It's not bad:

This is all I can show you, but I think you'll like it when the book comes out. 

And let's face it:  You can put just about anything on a baby (they have trouble getting away) and it will look adorable: "Aaawwwww...look at the widdle crumpled lettuce wrapper dress! Soooo cuuuute!"

The book goes (mercifully) to a different burner this week, while I cover myself in socks.  That's right:  We're at T-3 days to Sock Summit, which here in Portland, translates to the stoppage of all other meaningful activity, if you play with string.  And that's pretty much everybody (everybody interesting, anyway).  All the knitters ask each other the same questions: What are you taking?  What are you teaching?  Are you READY?  Here are my answers:  Estonian socks with Nancy Bush, Knitted Tessellations with Franklin Habit, Kilt Hose, Stranded Colorwork for Socks, Yes, and No. 

I am beginning to feel that this is the July that went on until February.  I have so many things to do that time has begun to stand still; like when they shoot the bullets in slow motion at Keanu Reeves in the Matrix.  They're not really hitting him, but they're sure coming close.

I can't complain though.  How many people get to say that their job this week is to celebrate the handknit sock with a few thousand like-minded geniuses?

Love. My. Job.

Soldiering On

Here are the skeins for my sweater du jour, which was due last week.  Aren't they beautiful?  I love how full of promise they seem, reporting for duty like that.  I took this picture before starting the sweater, but I think I'll actually be finishing it today.  Then I'll write its pattern, and finish up the last of the work that was due on the first of this month.  It's my first missed deadline, and I feel pretty disappointed about it.  On the positive side, I'm really only about a week behind, so it could have been worse.

July always hits me like a ton of bricks - I have no idea where the first part of summer went.  It's weird at this latitude:  we don't have any summer weather until vacation is half over, so it kind of sneaks up on us.  But the weather is finally beautiful, and we are free to go outside, and stretch our leaves to the sun.  I'm thinking of knitting outside for a while, though what I really feel like doing is spinning.  Maybe I'll offer that to myself as a reward for finishing the missed deadline stuff.

Enjoy your weekend, Gentle Readers.  See you on the other side.

A Question for the Ages

I made a 2-color hat, with 1 ball of each color.  This is what was left over.  Hardly enough to donate to a bird's nest.  So here's the question:  Should I write the pattern to specify 2 balls of each color, just to keep my knitters safe from the horror of running short?  Can I, in good conscience, cause my trusting knitters to buy fully twice as much yarn as is needed?  What if the balls I used were unusually long though?  What if the next 2 balls from that mill would have been six inches short?  Weigh in, Gentle Readers:  Should my pattern specify 2 balls or 4? 

We who are about to knit salute you.