Baby New Year

Remember the Samantha dress I knit for a new cousin back in the fall? Her grandfather recently posted this picture. As you can see, she's absolutely beautiful. I made the six-month-old size for her -- and she's right at six months old now. Her great-grandmother reports that she's a dainty thing, so it may be a few months before it fits better. Since it's made of cotton it should still work for spring.

I love the mid-drool capture. Also, it appears that she may have lost one of the buttons already. I'm still new at the whole button thing. Anyway, I just had to share this wonderful picture of my littlest 1st-cousin-twice-removed sporting handknits made by Cousin Steven.

On the knitting front, I'm beginning the first saddle shoulder on Jeff's seamless hybrid sweater. Elizabeth Zimmerman's instruction in Knitting Without Tears are, in her words, "rather chattily written," and sometimes you have to infer that when she spouts out a number of stitches, she's often referring to a ratio or percentage based on the gauge in her example. It's up to the astute knitter to figure out how that translates to his gauge. Which is why when she says to "work 44 rows for the saddles," I was a bit thrown. Most of the percentages refer to stitches (or stitch gauge) rather than rows (or row gauge). 44 seemed like a rather random number.

But I think I've figured it out. It appears that the number of rows, rather than just being 44, is roughly one third of the stitches remaining between the decrease lines on the front and back. Here's a bird's-eye-view (ala Zimmerman -- only lame) of the neck showing what I mean:


Imagine you're looking down on the top of the sweater. With my gauge (only slightly bigger than Zimmerman's example), there are 68 stitches on the front and back between the decrease lines. She had 66. Now, as you knit up the saddle, you knit the edge stitches from the front and back of the sweater at the end of each row in a sort of short row move. So for her, with 66 stitches on the front and back, she would divide by three to get 22 stitches on each side -- doubled, that makes 44. In my example, I have 68 stitches, which doesn't divide as well by 3, so I'm going to divide my front and back thus: 23-22-23. Doubling the 23 gives me 46 rows.

Is this what she's saying? I have to say, no one challenges a knitter to think more than Elizabeth Zimmerman. In my case, that could be a dangerous thing. Someone please tell me if I'm totally off on this. I'll post pictures soon, I hope.

And because if my life this week could be described in term of an Elvis movie, it would be called "Dogs! Dogs ! Dogs!," here's another video of Pona and Kate.

Pona and Kate

Today, we officially adopted two rescued basenjis -- Pona, a two-year-old male, and Kate, a three-year-old female. It's been almost a year since our dog Silas passed on, and it sure is nice to hear the padding of paws and jingling of collars again.

Those of you who follow the Very Pink blog have probably encountered Pona before. He was found on the side of the road in north Texas after having sustained some pretty serious car-inflicted injuries. After several surgeries and heart worm treatments, Pona is now well on the road to recovery thanks to Staci's tender loving care. Kate's early story is less violent, but still, she was given up for adoption and has been in BRAT foster care for a while with Wendy (who brought Pona down to Austin, btw). It turns out these two get along well, and since basenjis do better in pairs, it's now Pona and Kate Plus Two around here.

After a mercifully tearless farewell, we've begun the process of settling in and getting used to each other. Both of them had been over for a couple of sniff-and-snacks, so things started well. It's been interesting since then. Kate warned Pona about sleeping too close to him on a blanket with a quiet growl. Pona took Jeff's warm spot on the couch when he left for a second. A neighbor's barking dog started a short-lived basenji stampede. Pona developed a short irrational fear of the back door. One of them startled the other coming around a corner too fast and earned a yip. But so far, so good.

This afternoon we went for a half-hour walk or so. One of our neighbors saw us pass by and had to come out and meet the newest additions to the block. They were both very friendly and well-behaved -- if a bit tuggy on the leads in this new un-sniffed world of theirs. So much to see and smell. Their early excitement about being in a new place has turned into a ever-so-slight wariness about every new thing they encounter. We just served them dinner -- and other than having to pick up Pona so that he didn't try to "help" Kate finish her dinner after wolfing down his, everyone seems nice and happy. The dogs are both back on the blanket by the window, and Kate has allowed their hips to touch.

Jeff and I can't say enough good things about Wendy and Staci, the two BRAT volunteers who gave these dogs second chances. Their selflessness and dedication are beyond description. We're so glad to have these animals in our lives. Thank you both so much.



Next time: knitting.

New Beginnings

A new year is just days away, and I'm already in the spirit of renewal -- on several fronts.

While trying on one of the sleeves for his new sweater several days ago, Jeff mentioned it was a bit snug. I ignored this, hoping the problem would go away and that his arms would spontaneously shrink in girth while I busied myself with some long postponed yardwork -- raking leaves, weeding, trimming old sage stems, chopping lantana stalks that froze recently. But when I got back to it this morning, the sleeve, and now the body, were both a little snug. More snug than can be chalked up to the past week's holiday food fest. I double-checked gauge -- spot on. The problem lay in my inability to measure correctly. I don't know what I was doing the first time, but re-measuring revealed a couple more inches than originally called for. So I spent the morning ripping back and casting on again -- this time with several more stitches.

I've made a bit more progress on the Patent Stitch Socks. I'm still thinking the cuffs are a bit wider than I might like, although they do stay up in testing. I'll check again when it's finished. If it's too saggy, I'll make the cuff on the second sock on smaller needles and re-do the first one.

Janelle has been teasing me about my aversion to swatching. I DID swatch for the sweater (although I didn't wash it), but I just eyeballed for the socks. I get what I deserve!

On another front, Jeff and I are soon to be the proud parents of a couple of rescued dogs. They're scheduled to come live with us sometime next week, and we're both excited and nervous. Part of the yard cleanup was to get ready for the new arrivals. Today, I worked on adjusting some slats in the gate of our cedar fence to make it more escape proof. So much to do and so much to prepare for. I'll be sure to post pictures and details after they arrive.

So, there are many changes afoot! Here's to new beginnings and very happy new year to all of us.

Patently Ridiculous

Since the Oliver socks are on hiatus after realizing I was going to be woefully short of yarn, I decided to tackle a sock project that I'd had in the back of my mind for a while. The navy Cascade Heritage sock I'd ordered through The Knitting Nest came in this week, and now I can start.

The pattern is one I'm making up on the fly. I'm starting a cuff using an Estonian patent stitch pattern that I learned from Merike Saarniit at the Sock Summit last summer. I'm using the aforementioned Cascade Heritage along with some Shibui Sock that I purchased at Knit Purl -- also in Portland. The class was all about using handpainted yarns in creative ways -- working with the colors rather than fighting them or expecting them not to pool. I'm also using a neat braided cast-on that's not difficult, but kind of fiddly.

Unfortunately, I didn't clue into the fact that using this kind of stitch requires casting on fewer stitches than one normally would, hence the lovely 6-inch-wide cankle cover in the first picture. My knitting buddy Janelle and her family have been visiting the last few days, and she, being sharper of mind, remembered from the recent Merike Saarniit class that she took, that this little adjustment would be required. So I ripped out and re-cast on 48 stitches instead of my normal 72. The proportions look much better -- although still maybe a bit big.

I'm pleased with the way this looks. My plan is to do the patent stitch only on the cuff, and then knit the rest of the sock from the heel down in just plain navy yarn. Somewhere before the heel I'm going to need to go up from 48 to 72 stitches. Not sure how I'm going to execute that. Should I do it all at once? Over a few rows? I'll think about it -- in the meantime, I'm having fun with this project.

Hope everyone out there is enjoying their holiday and getting a chance to hit the needles!

Seamlessly

My semester wound down to a crashing close, with the final week of classes coinciding with the week of extra rehearsals before yesterday's men's chorus holiday concert. Just a few of the reasons for the recent dearth of blogging. After a big professional meeting this morning, I'm free to enjoy the holiday. Yes!

I've never been one to embark on a task as monumental as holiday knitting. I have done a few specific Christmas gifts, but tackling projects for all those near and dear to me and adhering to the schedule required to crank them out is beyond me. Having said that, I did get inspired by some of my fellow knitters (namely Caro and Stephi), and I've decided to tackle an Elizabeth Zimmerman Seamless Hybrid Sweater for Jeff. He picked out this lovely shade of Cascade 220 Heathers (Mahogany) for the main color.

For a contrasting color to go inside the hem, cuff and maybe collar, Jeff picked the Bluestone that you can see in the second picture here. It's darker and more swirly in real life. Once again I can't seem to get my eye and my camera to agree. This afternoon I've been singing to myself, "Said the knitter to his Canon point-and-shoot, "Why can't you see what I see?"

Staci loaned me her copy of The Knitters Workshop DVDs, and it's been a real delight watching them as I work. I marvel at how Elizabeth Zimmerman can reach into a pile of sweaters or shawls and find just the thing to illustrate a point she's trying to make. Her no-nonsense get-it-done attitude is refreshing. She has her strong opinions, but she also advocates doing what works for you. So practical, that EZ. Oh, and I love hearing Meg Swanson giving her mother suggestions and handing her needles from off camera. A true labor of love with so much useful information. The design of the sweater makes much more sense to me having watched this.

I think my favorite part was when she described a part of the back that will not match up on the seamless hybrid design when finished. Of course, the Germans have a word for it, "Schönheitsfehler," which online sources tell me means "blemish" or "disfigurement," but which Ms. Zimmerman more tactfully translates as "a little mistake of beauty." She adds, "It can cannot be avoided, so it might as well be admired." Now do you see why she's so beloved of knitters?

I'll take a picture of the Schönheitsfehler when I get to it.

I Want Some More

"Oliver! Oliver! Never before has a boy wanted more!"

Move over, Mr. Twist, and add ME to the list. I think I got shortchanged on some sock yardage.

I had my suspicions from the beginning. The sock yarn, which I had purchased at a both at the Sock Summit this past summer, had 450 yds listed on the ball band -- plenty of yardage for man-sized feet. But when I weighed it, the skein came in at a puny 84g. Definitely on the light side. I divided it into two 42g balls, and hoped for the best. It was pretty thin yarn after all. But this afternoon, after some ripping and re-knitting around a miscalculation I'd made on the Oliver socks yesterday, it was clear that I was going to be quite a bit short. So I've unwound the whole thing and stuffed the yarn into a bag for some future yarn swap or something.

I've already pulled out some bright (for me) blue/purple Shibui sock yarn that I also got in Portland. I purchased it for one of the classes I took, but I didn't end up using very much of it. It's a kind of busy yarn, and will work well for this interestingly constructed sock.



It's been downright chilly in these parts recently. We had all kinds of excitement about possible snow which never really materialized Friday, but Saturday morning we woke up to a beautiful frost.

We had friends over Saturday morning for munching and knitting. Always a good time. Coffee was quaffed, mimosas downed, eggy casserole consumed, trash talked, and puppies pampered. No, we don't have a new dog, yet, but Staci brought along Pona, a rescued Basenji she is fostering. He was a little nervous and restless at first, but after a few cheese snacks and a potty break in the back yard, he settled down nicely. He and Jeff seemed to hit it off right away. Here's Pona curled up next to Jeff, trying to keep his African self warm.

Then yesterday afternoon we took some time to put up the tree and get some of our holiday decorations out. The stockings are now hung by the chimney with care. Note to self -- now that you're a knitter, you should knit some nice Christmas stockings.

Stay warm, everyone.

Bloggin' 'bout Clogs

I finished Jeff's clogs today. That's six days from start to finish. How I did this is kind of beyond me, but I think it had a lot to do with the long holiday weekend and getting to knit while chatting with visiting relatives. In between all the eating, of course.

Man, did we eat. At my sister's house -- at Jeff's sister's house -- at our house. Delicious, delicious food from our pasts -- and new things, too. My sister hosted 15 people Thanksgiving Day at her house. My brother-in-law brined and roasted an awesome bird, and we had all the things that make Thanksgiving tasty, including my mom's recipe for dressing -- made with cornbread, of course.

This weekend involved several family birthdays, too. Jeff and I made a Black Velvet Cake for Jeff's mother, using a recipe from Paula Deen -- so you know there was a wee bit of butter in it. It's life-changing, if I say so myself, and by that I mean one bite will instantly make you diabetic.

But the best part was enjoying the rare opportunity to get together with my family. I couldn't ask for a better brother, sister, or in-laws. And getting together with them and my nieces and nephews is a rare and wonderful treat. Jeff and I are pretty lucky in that respect, and we have a lot to be thankful for.

Getting back to the clogs, I finished knitting them last night and took them to The Knitting Nest to take advantage of their top-loading washer. Felting went smoothly, for the most part. Toward the end, I noticed that the seam long the bottom of one of the soles had come open. I pulled the clog out of the wash and grabbed some dark yarn to whip it closed again, which worked fairly well. I stuff the clogs with plastic bags while I knitted and socialized, and when I brought them home, they seemed to fit. Even through I knit these following the men's narrow foot instructions, they're still a little wide. But they look great and once they're dry, they should keep Jeff's feet toasty warm.

Cinderfella

I'm making much faster progress on this pair of felted clogs than I did on the previous pair I made. I remember thinking while making the previous pair that the instructions were awfully hard to follow, but I'm not having any difficulties this time. It's one of those patterns in which, rather than instructing the knitter to "knit to the marker..." or something like that, the exact numbers of stitches for each size are dictate, line by line. I suppose this is the most efficient way to write this pattern out and make it understandable, but it still bugs me a bit. But not as much as last time.

Here is the obligatory foot-in-the-prefelted-clog shot that seem to always accompany the making of these clogs, modeled by Jeff. I think he's going to like them, and they're going to be ready way before his birthday next month.

I only started these on Sunday, and, as of this sunshiny Thanksgiving morning, I have all but the second sole on the second clog to finish -- and then it's into the wash. Last night I completed 75% of the second clog, while watching a little TV and chatting with the in-laws, while my memories of my first go-round with this pattern involved lots of quiet alone time with the pattern and several moments of intense frustration.

Hope everyone is enjoying their Thanksgiving Day and can find plenty to be thankful for. In a few moments, we'll be heading over to my sister's house for a huge meal with her family, some of her in-laws, my in-laws, and my brother's family. I can't wait for some delicious food and some serious niece/nephew time.

Good to the Last Drop

Do you remember the old coffee commercial in which the insecure housewife, noticing how her husband enthuses over a friend's delicious coffee, muses to herself, "Funny, he never asks for a second cup at home..."? My problem wasn't the second, it was the first. And because this is a knitting blog, I'm talking about socks, not cups of coffee. But you probably figured that out already.

I started these socks back in April, but set them aside as other projects filled my brain and hands. I uncovered them while digging through my knitting basket, horrified that I'd neglected them so long. The yarn was hand dyed by my good friend Steph (see her Spinning Colors logo in the sidebar) in a colorway called Morning Roast. I love all of these rich brown, tan and copper colors all swirling around each other. Oddly calming for something named after a substance known for it's jitter-inducing qualities.

The pattern is a simple 4x2 rib, starting with 72 stitches cast on, knitted from the top down. The heel is a basic slipped stitch heel with a 3-stitch garter border to make picking up the gusset stitches easy. I knitted one on DPNs and the other using magic loop, but I don't feel much difference between the two. I'm not sure why that happened, but it's probably because I was using my size 0 circular for something else (another pair of socks) when I started these. It all began so long ago.

Thanks, Steph, for the great yarn with the great dye-job. You have a such a great eye for color! I'll definitely be getting some more.

Next up, I've just got started on another pair of felted clogs, a long-promised pair for Jeff for which I've had the yarn for well over a year. And a sweater is in the planning stages for Jeff, too, inspired by Caro's recently completed E-Z seamless hybrid sweater - Raveler's can see it here. Yarn has been ordered, colors have been discussed.

And now, it's coffee break time!

Take Your Socks to Lunch

Since I can't ever seem to get good photos of my knitting this time of year, I wore the Cordovan Socks that I finished last night to work today. And despite the disruption to my usual morning routine (see previous post), I remembered to bring my camera to take a few shots while I ate my lunch.

I don't always manage to, but I think that this time I really nailed finding a yarn to compliment a pattern. I love how the little passed-over stitches look like little leather laces.

I started this pair of socks while attending the Sock Summit this summer. Janelle and I were riding the train to the convention center, and she was doing the most interesting stitch pattern (Charade) with a beautiful green yarn. I really liked the pattern -- it was easy -- and I realized it would look much better that whatever I was then attempting. Somewhere along the way I screwed up and had to rip back many inches of work. I remember doing this during the Elizabeth Zimmerman 99th birthday celebration. I'm sure she would have understood. I'm not sure why these languished for so long. I usually like to get socks done quickly. But no matter -- they turned out fine.

I used a Charlene Schurch book for the dimensions of the heel, but other than that, I just did a toe-up (magic cast on) sock with the gusset running parallel rather than perpendicular to the bottom of my foot. I ended with 1x1 ribbing and used these instructions for a stretchy Kitchener bind-off. It's a lot of Kitchenering, but it makes a smoother edge then Ms. Zimmerman's sewn bindoff, and it's really quite stretchy.

And you gotta love that Malabrigo sock yarn.

Commuting Sentences

Today, I commuted by bike. So much for sitting still. And so much for knitting, too -- be warned, there won't be any discussed in this lengthy post.

Last night I got all my work clothes packed into a backpack and made my lunch for today. This morning, I got up at 6:00am (15 minutes earlier than usual), showered, shaved, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, made and ate some oatmeal with a banana in it while reading the paper (gosh, the American-Statesman sucks these days) and headed out the door at 7:00am.

Commuting by bike is a bit of a shock. First of all, it was chilly. And since the first part of the ride is downhill, it was really chilly. I wasn't 20 feet out of my driveway when I saw an armadillo cross the street into a neighbor's yard. It's also generally quiet, despite some traffic noises.

Things went really smoothly. The first part of the trip is in a bike lane through my neighborhood, and then on to the Town Lake Hike & Bike Trail. Then, after crossing Lady Bird Lake and negotiating the corkscrew ramp (picture to follow), comes a nice stretch on part of the Lance Armstrong Bikeway, pictured above.

Unfortunately, the way I needed to go was under construction. But not really. It seems that it's just as easy to do potentially dangerous things on a bike as it is to do them in a car -- I rode around the barrier just to see what was up, and realized all I really needed to do was negotiate these stairs. I wheeled the bike up the side of the stairs, crossed Shoal Creek by a really old train trestle, and then wormed my way around another barrier to get to 3rd and Nueces.

Then, a quick jog over to 4th street where I made my way through downtown. Traffic was light to non-existent. I was almost to the Interstate when I remembered that today was a holiday. There is a nice section of the bikeway that's been created by the new light rail station downtown, but after it ended, I continued, going in what turned out to be the wrong way on a one way street -- and riding down the light rail track, to boot. I'm going to have to reconsider that part of the commute.

Once I rode under the Interstate, it was like being in a small town. East 4th and 5th street meander along the tracks for the new light rail system past old gas stations, art supply stores, and many, many coffee shops. I was at work in 40 minutes -- only about 10 minutes longer than my usual commute on a trafficky day. I was a little sweaty, but after half an hour of catching up on the overnight email, I was changed and ready to face the day.

I found out that the fancy-schmancy (but quite rusty) bike racks they have at work don't quite fit my bike. It's a weird combination of the bike's size and the tire and pedal positions. I could never get it just right. But I got it secure, which is what counts. I went outside at 10am, just to make sure it was okay. At that point it had two neighbors, both of which seemed better suited to this particular type of bike rack. I'm going to have to think through this part a bit more, too.

The ride home was fairly uneventful. It was warmer, so I was more comfortable. I stopped on my way back along E. 4th to take a picture of part of a mural that covers a block-long building. I'm not sure what it is, but the art is, well, interesting. I saw that it stretched around the corner as I rode past -- yet more things to check out in the future. It was through this stretch that I saw a lot of other bike commuters, all pedaling along at our leisurely paces.

One of the fun parts of the trip is the corkscrew ramp at the end of the James D. Pfluger Bicycle and Pedestrian Bridge. Believe it or not, it's sloped just enough that it's almost as fun to ride up as it is to coast down. You kind of have to change your focus a lot, or you could get dizzy. At some point, this pedestrian bridge is planned to be extended to a new development at the site of the power plant in the first picture in this post, but until then it's round and round...

The last part of the commute back is the steepest. The lowest point of the commute, at the level of Lady Bird Lake (around 419 ft. above sea level), and the highest point of my commute, my house (around 560 ft. above sea level) are only about 1.5 miles apart, so there's a bit of climbing to do. 150 ft. isn't that much, but a lot of it takes place in short, steep ascents. It was kind of embarrassing being passed in the bike lane climbing one hill by another bicyclist going much faster and pedaling in a much higher gear. But I've got time to build up some of that strength.

So that was my commute. I don't know that I will do this every day, but weather and meetings permitting, why not?

At Whit's End

I've finished the Whitfield Jacket. You may be surprised to learn, however, that even after yesterday's disaster, I still had a few tricks up my sleeve. Or actually, in my pockets.

Or, more accurately, on the side of my pockets. Last night I got all the buttons sewed on and the plan for this dreary drizzly day was to knit up both the pockets and attach them. (The pattern also calls for two flapped upper pockets, but I decided I didn't want them). Knitting up the pockets didn't take long, but then it came to joining them to the sweater. I got totally engrossed in an Independent Lens documentary that I'd DVR-ed on my PBS station, and, and as I watched and sewed, somehow managed to sew on both of the pockets to work with left hands. That's right -- they both opened on the same side. The picture above shows this creative bit of garment construction.

The pockets are mostly for hand-warming, I think. The openings are on the outside. The fix I decided upon consisted of finding the sewing thread on the seam of the mistakenly closed off side, snipping it (I know, right?), and then unraveling it back to the corners, weaving in those ends, and finally closing up the right side. You can imagine my tension in wondering if I was going to snip the right thread. This time, it worked.

This picture shows things a little better, and up close. It was so dim out today that I couldn't get a shot that didn't require a flash without really jacking up the ISO level -- hence the graininess. Overall, I'm pleased. It's quite warm -- too warm for November in central Texas -- but I have high hopes. I think the buttons were definitely the right choice. I'm still very happy with the stitch pattern and the yarn -- although I kind of wish now that I'd gone with a yarn that was a bit more variegated. Although this yarn claims to be heathered, its about the least heathery heathered yarn I've ever worked with.

I really like the set-in sleeves. I keep telling myself not to knit drop-sleeve patterns anymore. But then I'll see some stitch or color pattern that appeals and off I go into the land of baggy armpits. I need to look at this one and how wonderfully it fits though the arms and shoulders the next time I'm tempted.

I'm so glad this is done! I'd really hit a point of inertia a few weeks ago and I'm glad I took the time this weekend to complete it. This leaves me only with some socks still on the needles, along with that piano bench cushion cover that I can't ever seem to get back to. Time to get on Ravelry and start trolling for ideas...

Splice Splice Baby

You would NOT believe what I did this evening. There are a multitude of sins one can commit as a knitter -- inadvertently dropping stitches, not getting all of your yarn for a project from the same dye lot, not checking (and re-checking) gauge, etc. But tonight, I committed the gravest sin of all. I cut my knitting.

I was sewing on a button, using some plies of the yarn I made the sweater with, and after creating the shank behind the button and drawing the yarn through to the back for a final knot, I got a snag. No problem, I thought -- I'll just snip it off. Did I cut the yarn at the front of the button to ensure that I was cutting the right strand? No. I decided to cut through what I assumed was part of the button strand at the back. But I didn't cut the button yarn. I cut the sweater itself. Geez.

I didn't panic, though. I went to my Knit Fix book and looked for a solution. Apparently the author never considered that anyone would be as boneheaded as I, and there was no help. So I took a few deep breaths and told myself not to panic. After looking and thinking for a while, I realized that I could just slowly back the cut pieces out of their stitches as I followed them through with a new strand of yarn until I had long enough loose ends to weave in at the back. I think this is darning, basically. It seems to have worked.

The problem was in the long knit column that you can see running vertically just to the left of center in the photo. The one stitch near the center that has the wonky tension -- that's the spot. But that's where the button goes, so it won't show. And I'm pretty sure with all the woven in parts behind it, that it will remain stable. I need to believe this, so don't tell me otherwise.

So it's back to the button sewing -- hopefully with a bit more patience and surely with more experience. After that, I'll have left to do is the pockets.

Forty-four

I got a shiny new bicycle for my birthday today.

It's the fourth generation of a tradition started by the avocado green banana-seater I learned to ride on, the Sears Free Spirit 10-speed I got when I was 10, and a hybrid bike I had (and crashed) back in the early 1990s.

I ordered my new bike online, quickly realized upon delivery Friday that this contraption's assembly was beyond me, and hustled it down to the Bicycle Sport Shop to have them work their magic. I picked it up this evening.

This machine has some cool features: A chain guard to keep pants from ripping to shreds, fenders, a rack on the back, and a little dynamo that lights up both front and back lights. It also has a "comfort" seat. To paraphrase Freddie Mercury: fat-bottomed boys will be riding today, so look out...

I live quite close to an extensive network of hike and bike trails here in Austin, and I've been thinking that it's a shame I don't take advantage of it. Not sure where this thing will take me, but I've been toying with the idea of commuting to work by bike every once in a while. It should only take about 20 more minutes each way -- still less time than it takes to ride the bus between home and work, but way more exercise.

Stay tuned.

Samantha Shipped

Not exactly. But almost.

Yesterday afternoon, as planned, I sewed on the buttons that I'd purchased earlier in the day. It went fine. Then, in the evening, I thought I'd run it through the washer just to make sure that the buttons didn't fall off and all the seams didn't undo themselves, which I was quite certain would happen. These disasters, miraculously, did not occur, so I think all system are go. I was also pleased to see that it did not shrink. I laid it out on the blocking board to let it dry overnight.

Today, Jeff and I went shopping and bought a gift box, some tissue paper, some gift wrap and a shipping box to make sure this was all done up right. All that's left to do is talk to my aunt to find out here to send this little outfit for her first great-granddaughter, and then run by the post office to send it on its way.

I'm very pleased with how this turned out and I can highly recommend this pattern. I'm pleased with how it turned out in cotton, but I'm going to try superwash wool the next time. It really doesn't take that long to knit up and the instructions are very clear. You do have to pay attention in a few places, but that's what makes this interesting. If there's a little girl that you need to make something for you, you really ought to consider this.

I can't wait to see some pictures of how it looks on my little first cousin, twice removed! When I get some, I'll be sure to share.

Who's Got the Button(s)?

I do. Today, after knitting with friends in the morning, I went to Silk Road Fabrics to buy some buttons for some long-languishing projects. Snowden came to help me, for which I'm very grateful. She has an excellent eye for such things, good taste, and, if you're looking for someone to paw through a bucket of 1940s Mississippi River shell buttons, she's your gal. Thanks, Snowden!

After looking at some cool matte metalic buttons shaped like Mongol shields, and some nice rounded rectangle buttons that faded ever so slightly from dark to light, I chose these translucent metal-edged buttons for the Whitfield Jacket. I like how the lines across the button could be used to parallel the vertical lines of the jacket. And, the semi-see-through nature of them allows the darkness of the yarn behind to peep through. It was hard to decide, though.

For the Samantha Dress, I went with these pinkish translucent buttons with little purple dots on them. At first I was a little leery of mixing purple and pink, but they work for some reason. Very feminine. As Buddy Cole responded when accused by the lesbian softball team he managed of designing uniforms that were too "girly": "As if anything can be!"

So now it's on to sewing these on. I'm no quite ready for buttons on the Whitfied Jacket, but I'm going to try and tackle these with Samantha this afternoon. Snowden walked me through her version of doing so, an illustration of which I found here.

I placed them on the garments just to see what kind of what they'll look like. Wish me luck!

Board, Wires & Pins

I finally had time to sit down and start blocking my sweater. I've been waiting for weeks to do this. I'm glad I waited, though. It was so easy with my new blocking board! I set it up on my coffee table and was able to sit on the couch while I spun the board around. So much easier than the back-breaking position I usually took, hunched over towels laid out on our spare bedroom floor. Then I got Jeff to help me move it to an open place on the floor. I loved having the little lines to line things up on -- it was as simple as poking pins at the intersections and counting squares. I think I'm going to like this.

I just hope that I steamed effectively. I used the little attachment for fabrics, holding it just above the knitting and steaming like crazy. It got damp, but not really soaked like I'm used to -- which I suppose is the point. The thing is, I did this just a few hours ago and it's already starting to feel dry. Did I steam it enough? Anyone have experience blocking with a steamer? I've done some with an iron, but it's just not the same. I'm afraid (and probably needlessly so) that I'm going to take the wires out and it's going to spring back to it's original dimensions. I didn't have to stretch it too much in the blocking -- not at all vertically and just about an inch horizontally. It' not exactly correct gauge, but this is as close I could get.

Still haven't gotten around to shopping for buttons for this or the Samantha Dress. At this point, I'll probably have to wait until the weekend.