Simple

The Tofurky is on its way from Denver (they don't sell such things here).

The Christmas tree is up.

The gluten-free vegan baking has begun.

We're readying our home for guests, preparing for Thanksgiving and knitting in the midst of it all. I'll have lots to show you fiber-wise after the week is over, but for now I want to wish all of you here in the US a very lovely and abundant Thanksgiving. And to my friends in other places: How about a lovely and abundant week just for the heck of it?

Feeling gratitude for the simple and sweet gifts in my life,

-Marie

Yorn

I stopped progress on an olive green mitten to take a few photos.

I knelt on the floor.

I propped the camera. I leaned. I bent myself forward and sideways in search of the right perspective.

I lamented the poor late-night lighting...

After a few minutes--and twenty camera clicks--my husband casually asked,  "As soon as you're finished with your yarn porn, can we watch Seinfeld?"

Yarn porn. Yorn.

That man knows me well.

-Marie

p.s. There was a mitten in that photo at one point, but it was just a one-night stand with no lasting commitment. Maybe I can coax it back into reality tomorrow (for the tenth time)...If I don't stick it under my back tire and run over it first.

Promises

Dear Yarn Diary,

Yesterday I promised myself I would stay awake until I finished this: the fourth (but not last) Skull Hat.

I broke my promise. 

Today I promised myself I would not work on anything else until I bound-off the last few stitches, but once again...I lied. While I know that lying (even to oneself) is not an admirable thing to do, I'm sure you'll understand when I tell you that I really *had* to cast-on with my new Lanaloft so that I could witness the self-striping action. It couldn't be helped.

While I was enjoying the rise and fall of the ocean waves in my stitches, my eyes strayed from the pleasant shades of blue and fixated on this.

Another conundrum. Should I finish what I started first? or finish the one I'm already working on? or finish the hat I promised myself I would finish yesterday?

Or should I cast-on for those fulled mittens that I've been lamenting for ten years, because--if we're being picky--the idea for those came long before any of these others.

Oh, Yarn Diary... This knitting stuff isn't for the faint-hearted.

It occurred to me just now that I can't start my brother's project until I free up the needle that currently houses the hat that I am not knitting, but should be. Then again, my brother might rather have this Darth Vader Toaster.

Fine. I'll finish the hat. After all, I did promise.

Thank you, Yarn Diary, for helping me to sort that out. 

-Marie 

p.s. (a few hours later) It's finished!

Innuendo

 

1. Fingerless Gloves. 

If I ever decide to cross over to a life of crime, I have my pick-pocket costume ready. In the meantime I can knit in the cold and my hands won't go numb. (Because apparently, it's really just one or the other--being a knitter or being a pick-pocket.)  I can't figure how I lived 35 years without these. More people should be singing the praises of fingerless gloves for busy-bodies who get cold easily; this is really the perfect solution.

2. Innuendo

My first internet friend of all time was Ellen Klomps. We met on the Knitlist, I think, roughly 12 years ago. We'd been writing each other online for nearly a year, and eventually (quite by accident) I ended up moving across the country to the same city where Ellen lived. That's a long explanation for what really has nothing to do with Ellen, except that she once loaned me her knitting machine. She didn't show me how to use it--I am a knitter, after all. How hard could it be?--I fiddled, cursed and farfangled my way around that machine and could never make heads or tails of it. Though Ellen had praised its simplicity, I couldn't for the life of me get anywhere with it--other than a few inches of boring old stockinette. I politely returned it, and swore off knitting machines forever.  Today I saw this on the Lion Brand website (scroll down the page), and had a rush of anxiety. I already know that it would take me longer to figure out how to use the thing than it would to knit myself a sweater. I'm not knocking the folks that use the gizmos to get their groove on... I'm just saying that old-fashioned girls like me do it by hand. (Um, a certain awkward reference was not intentional there, but there's no sense in wasting a perfectly good innuendo.)  I am apparently mechanically disinclined, so I will stick to my needles, thank you very much.

3. Facebook.

I am firing myself from Facebook. Every three days I decide to cancel my account, delete my friend list, and just be done with it. Then I chicken out partway through, but can't very well go back and re-add all the people I just deleted--especially when I have a tendency to do it again the very next week. "Hi, can you add me again for the fifteenth time?" (I can't even remember everyone I deleted, since I went from 190 friends at one point, down to 80.) It's not about them... I just don't really like Facebook. Well, I sort of like it. And I don't. I guess the problem is that I do not take it seriously. It's just for fun, right? Why would people get their knickers in a twist about whether you friend them or unfriend them?  It's not life, it's Facebook (after all).

4. It's Monday. I love Mondays!!!

-Marie

Saved By the Bra

Yesterday, while I was knitting the last little finger on the fingerless gloves I found myself with dainty size 2 needles all over the place as I went from needing them, to not needing them (and thus storing them hither and yon within my reach).

It was only hours later--hours after the finger was finished--that I discovered one of the needles nestled down the center of my bra. Wedged nicely, I might say. How I managed to get through half a day with a pointy needle aimed precariously at both my throat and my xiphoid process, I will never know. (I know all too well the pain of being stabbed by my own needles, but that's a story for another day.)

Do as I say and not as I do.

Behold, the lovely fiber I won on Michele's blog, and the sweet stitch markers she included as a surprise. Kind people make the world such a nice place, don't you think?

Thank you, Michele. I already know exactly what this Lanaloft is meant to be... and I'll be sure to share the process so that you can see how I've put them to good use.

-Marie

Rhyme

A Knitter's Saturday

by Marie Greene

The dishes are looming.

I'd rather be knitting.

The toilet needs cleaning.

Yet I am here sitting.

The laundry needs washing--

As if I didn't know.

I'll be there in a minute.

Let me finish my row.

The fall leaves are blowing;

they've lined up at the door.

I'll tend to them soon,

Just a few stitches more.

The shopping awaits,

and the bills should be sent.

But these cables, they blind me

to things such as rent.

I'll re-stock the pantry

and shovel the snow,

If you'll just let me get to

the next decrease row.

At last! I can stop now.

The bind-off's in place.

Grab my purse, grab my keys,

Comb my hair, wash my face.

Leave the house, shop for food.

Pay the bills, buy a broom.

Come home, do my chores;

Tidy up every room.

Fill my mug, have a seat.

Grab a skein (chocolate brown).

I cast on sixty-eight,

and the

clock.

slows.

down.

Knots

This morning--in the shower--I started thinking about knots.

Fibers have a tendency to self-destruct when they're held too long in captivity; they have a show of protest by forming knots. I understand this behavior, as I tend to get a few kinks myself when things don't go my way. Like tumors, they infect a perfectly healthy skein and remain undetected until they are called into active duty; and by then sometimes it's too late.

Knots don't respond well to aggression. I know this because I once tried arm wrestling a knot and I lost. They can, however, be coaxed into submission with a gentle hand and a bit of patience (as we all can).

The truly stubborn ones require a pair of scissors, and which of us hasn't needed to make a clean break now and again?

(For no apparent reason my cat is biting me as I type--and not in a friendly way.  This reminds me that I have at times attempted to use my teeth to work out a knot. Chances of success are about 50/50 if you use this method.  The lesson here is that sometimes you've just got to sink your teeth into it.)


And then there are those moments--you know the ones--when there is just no saving the thing. You've coaxed, prodded, chewed, and waltzed, but it's just not going to budge. Even the scissors fall short of ultimate rescue. When that inevitable moment comes, one develops a primal urge to claw at it one last frantic time and then issue a guttural roar (which may sound something like @#!%@!).

In a swift devastating blow the knot is ushered away in disgrace, skein and all. A true spend-thrift would clip the usable threads and save them, but not me. If it goes that far the yarn is dead to me. Take a deep breath. Walk away.

Don't speak of it again.

One can learn a lot...from a knot.

-Marie

p.s. READ THIS! On a totally different subject, if you have a crafty blog and would love to get more comments on a consistent basis, please join Gabrielle and me with our PEAR Comment Love Project over at French Picnic. It's especially for crafty bloggers!