Dissecting a Frog

The Frog Prince, as you may remember, was sent to Time Out.  Like, two years ago.  The process of translating this design from a tailored boiled wool jacket into a sweater that regular people could just have fun knitting did not go as I had hoped.  Not even a little bit.  Rather than a sweater that looks like the original jacket, I ended up with Franken-Frog.  The sleeves didn't puff.  The hem didn't swing.  The underarms did this bizarre batwing/dolman thing (The cast of Dyanasty called; they want their sleeves back).  And in the meantime, they stopped making the tapestry ribbon I had trimmed the original in.

In spite of all these problems, I had forged on, hoping I would somehow come to love the Franken-Frog in the fullness of time.  This denial may have had something to do with the 5 skeins of size 2 stockinette I had invested.  I did all the finishing (sans the tapestry ribbon trim; the plan was to hunt down a replacement after I fell in love again).  I even edged the wee beastie in velvet, all the way around.  All I had left to do was recreate the deep, patterned cuffs, when something snapped, and I just couldn't go on.  I hung the Frog in a corner of the living room.  Which did nothing to make me love it, because people kept coming into my living room and asking why I didn't just finish that thing, already.  Time marched on.  Books got written.  Other designs that I love have been born.  I've continued to make promises and excuses to the dear knitters who still want to make Frog Princes of their own.  There formed a fine layer of dust on Franken-Frog's velvet trim.

And then one night a couple of months ago, I dreamed that I was frogging the Frog.  It wasn't sad, but cathartic.  Like finding the real sweater trapped inside the Franken-Frog.  And when I woke up, I determined that it was time to admit defeat.  It was time to Frog the Frog.

And so, today was the day:

It took all morning.  And it wasn't as cathartic as in my dream.  But it's done now, and I'm ready to wash and reskein the yarn.  And then I'll go back to the drawing board, in earnest.  For those of you who have not given up on me, I thank you.  For those who have no idea why anybody would want a sweater with frogs on it in the first place, I have to say that I kinda feel the same for now.  But I'm not giving up, and neither should you, my would-be Princesses.  Wish me luck: I'm gonna reincarnate the Frog Prince.
 

Neutral Zone

Today I'm celebrating Beige.  It's not easy for me to love Beige, because I consider it a non-color.  I'd call it anti-color, but Beige doesn't even have that much conviction.  As a person whose very life depends on color, though, it seems unfair to ignore the ones that aren't that bright.

I blame my mother for my Beige problem.  She loathed (feared?) Beige in any incarnation.  She wouldn't even call it by its proper name.  Instead she always said "Blah-Beige".  And it wasn't just the color she impugned; any person whom she considered to have too much neutral in their life was also called "Blah-Beige"; as in "Oh, you know, he's one of these Blah-Beige people without an original idea in his head..."  This was describing a neighbor who, on retirement, bought a brand new taupe and white RV, and a factory-matched taupe truck with which to pull it. 

But I'm a big girl now (with the pants to prove it), and it's time to give a fair shake to Beige.  I realized this when I was gifted with an otherwise unobtainable skein of Plucky Knitter Primo sock yarn.  It's maker, Sarah, aptly named the color "Oatmeal".  What a lovely and approachable way of describing the color.  Nothing wrong with oatmeal at all.  In fact, you'd never expect or want oatmeal to be any other color than what nature made it.  So because I was in love with the yarn, itself, I decreed that I would step outside my comfort zone and embrace my inner neutrality.  I made swell toe-up socks which were fun to knit, and pretty to wear.  And I put them together with my favorite summer party shoes.  Then I looked down to realize they were standing on my beloved new floor, whose wrinkled brown paper has every color of, guess what? Beige in it.  And you know what else I love that's Beige?

Backstage at the sock photo shoot.  Bailey found a stray Milk Bone and would not get out of the shot.

A certain four-legged blonde, without whom we could not imagine our lives.

So there you have it.  I still prefer "real" colors.  But it turns out a little neutrality is not a dangerous thing.

Simple, toe-up Diamond lace socks with a hemmed picot edge.  Post a comment if you think I should publish the pattern, or if you'd like to rant in defense of all things Beige.
 

A Knitalong and a SALE!

Got your Queen Bee pattern yet?  If you were hesitating, here's all the incentive you need: The fabulous folks at Blue Moon Fiber Arts are throwing a sale on Queen Bee yarn!  From August 1 through September 15, all BFL sport yarn will be 15% off.  Choose the original colors, or select your very own custom combo; just use code "QUEENBEE" at checkout to receive your discount.

And, since you asked, I'm happily hosting a Queen Bee Knitalong, starting on September 1.  CLICK HERE to join in the fun, and be sure to invite your friends!  I'll be on hand to answer questions, offer encouragement, and generally enjoy all the buzz.  And of course, I have been known to award prizes, from time to time...

Oh, and one more thing:  BFL sport yarn comes in HUGE 661-yard skeins.  If you are interested in sharing skeins of the contrast colors with other Queens, be sure to check out the thread for skein-splitting on the KAL group page.  Make a friend, share a skein = Win/Win!

See you at the Knitalong.  It's good to be (a) Queen.