Join Mary on her adventures in playing with string.
Posted in: Everything Else
Tonight I am honored to address the Seattle Knitters Guild. These delightful knitters have invited me to share a few words with them, so I thought I'd give my perspective on a topic we all share interest in: Making Time To Knit. Please stop by, if you're in the neighborhood!
This morning, the Fed-Ex man brought me love in a box. The dear sweet friends over at Knit Picks had this sample made for a catalog shoot a while back, and thought I should have it as a replacement for the original red one that was stolen. I really can't express my surprise and delight. It's yet another example of the kindness and generosity of Knitters. What a very special gang we are.
The Counting Crows pullover was the first design I made for The New Stranded Colorwork. I knit it before there was a book, or even an agreement to write one. I remember announcing to the Smallies that I was going to make a sweater with crows on it, and asking them to decide who it would be for. They bickered for a while, and then between them, came to the realization that if the older one got the sweater first, then the younger one would get it as soon as it was outgrown. Not a bad bit of logic, and I remember being proud, both that they were clever, and that they both liked the sweater design that well.
Neither kid ended up wearing Counting Crows. It was away at the publisher, and then rolling around in my sample case for so long that they both outgrew it before either one got a chance. But they both still love it, and were delighted to see this new incarnation of it coming home to roost.
Thank you Kelley, Alison, Melissa and Stacey. Today I'm counting my blessings, and I'm counting you each, twice.
Lindsay went with me to Knit Nite last week. I don't always take her along, but when I see her working her guts out to get her homework finished in time to go with me, it's hard to say no. Our clever friends from Abstract Fiber had been up to some very good tricks, indeed. They brought two new colorways for the approval of the assembly. This was the winner:
And HOW, you may reasonably ask, did it come to be in my flowerpot? For once, it wasn't my fault. Lindsay latched onto it and would not let go. She displayed the entire spectrum of yarn lust behaviors in about 15 minutes.
First she tried stealth: She stuck it in my knitting bag. I informed her that not only was the skein a prototype, and therefore not up for grabs, but also, everybody there had seen her try to make off with it and were guaranteed to rat her out. Next she tried artifice: One after the other, she made impassioned arguments to the yarnmakers, to me, to anyone who would listen, as to why she should have that yarn for her very own. When that failed, she resorted to abject begging. Immune as I am to the whole gamut of Smally-Simpering, I never thought it would work. But I underestimated her; the kid could melt ice with a doe-eyed snivel. It was a pretty impressive display. Worthy of her mother, actually. Clearly she learnt at the knee of the master.
I pried the yarn from her death grip and gave it back to Susan, who stopped laughing long enough to confer with Karen on the perfect name for the new colorway: "Lindsay".
And then she gave the newly-christened skein back to Lindsay, for keeps.
She hasn't let it out of her sight since. Yeah, I know it's weird for a 12-year-old to want to sleep with a skein of yarn. And no, I didn't let her. I was afraid too much abrasion would damage the skein. Clearly the fiber disease has failed to skip a generation. Just tell me though (Give it to me straight; I can take it):
Is Lindsay's disorder genetic, or did she contract it from me?