So I Knit a Hat

This hat.

Using absolutely gorgeous, soft, now discontinued, stupidly expensive yarn. I knit it, stuck it on my head, and Mr. Man promptly burst out into uncontrollable laughter. Someone on Ravelry mentioned that they had knit this particular hat in pink, and it made them look like Strawberry Shortcake - maybe I should have stored that little pearl of wisdom away somewhere.

Like in my brain.

My yarn is not pink, but rather a lovely blend of brown, purple, and dark pink (it makes sense in person, I swear) so instead of Strawberry Shortcake, I look like - in the words of one friend who witnessed the idiocy that was this headgear - a demented white girl rastafarian. Oddly enough, the look I was aiming for wasn't Strawberry Shortcake's little friend, Organic Hemp Brownie, so I unraveled it.

No, there are no pictures.

What amazes me is the power of the human brain to overlook the obvious. The pattern is for a giant, cabled beret, made of giant yarn. Odds are, it's going to be big. The comments of others who have made it all discuss how oversized it is, and how it makes them look like an extra from Strawberry Shortcake on Ice. The picture on the cover of the magazine itself, is that of a really, really big ass hat. I have a small head. I look overwhelmingly bad in a big hat, I always have. I know this fact to be true. I know this, I looked at the pictures, I saw a giant hat.

And I knit it anyway.

There Are No Words...

... to describe exactly how much trouble the washing machine is in. It is on the most wanted list of Appliances That Will Face The Wall When The Revolution Comes. Oh yes, it better watch it's back, I tell you.

Why, you ask?



Mr. Man's sock. Knit for Christmas. Worn less than half a dozen times. GIANT HOLES ripped out of the fabric. At first I thought it was my fault, that the ends were not woven in well enough. Then I inspected it closely, and realized that no, there are just huge holes ripped out of it in random spots. HOLES. In random spots. HOLES. I managed to blow through the seven stages of grief in about fifteen minutes:

• Shock or Disbelief: What?! What is this?! A hole? Three holes? Three?!!!


• Denial: No, this can't be. I will look away, then slowly look again. Shit - they are still there.


• Bargaining: I skipped right over this one and went straight to profound and prolonged swearing.


• Guilt: I should have put it in a lingerie bag. It doesn't matter that I have washed socks in the machine without incident for years, I should have hand washed your preciousness.


• Anger: More swearing.


• Depression: I can't believe this happened. I need to go lie down and have a little cry.


• Acceptance: The washing machine must die.

I need a drink.

Pretty Pretty Things

We went to my parents house for family day, and my Mom graciously agreed to take some photos of some recent (and one not so recent) projects - because yarn always looks nicer in the great outdoors.

Tune Cap - Wendy Barnard design

This hat has a pocket stitched into the brim, along with holes to thread earphones through - so you can stick your Ipod in your hat brim and neatly tuck the cords away. It was a fun, easy knit.



Luxe Cowl - Knit Two Together

My first handspun turned into a fantastic cowl. I love it, it's so pretty and soft. It's a very fast knit, even if you have to spin an extra two feet to finish the bind off.



Easy Mittens - One Skein Wonders

I knit these ages ago, and I still love them to death.

The Best Quote Ever, Ever and Forever...

Well. At least the best quote if you watch Battlestar Galactica and are a big ol' nerd.

Like me.

"You six people who are left, that went along with our mutiny? You six people are awesome. Rapists, racists, murderers, insane bomber terrorists, good to see ya. Conner and Seelix? Good people, I'm proud to have you with me. Who needs Earth with a Douche Patrol like we got going here? Yeah! Now, I know many of you had loved ones on those ten ships, and all our food was there, but trust me: this next part is going to be great. ...Hmm? What's that? Oh, no. No plan of any sort. Sorry if I wasn't clear about that: we have no frakking clue what we're supposed to do now. I was just really pissed off. See, my leg got shot in this other mutiny -- not a great, awesome one like this, but a tiny, bitchy one -- and then my BFF shot herself in the head, and Gaius stopped returning my calls, and I became a heroin addict, then my bisexual college robot fling from New Caprica turned out to be a serial killer, and it turned out I knew that? Sort of. Oh, and plus, remember Earth? Yeah, right? Awkward! Then I broke up with my boyfriend for no reason, and then -- worst of all -- no matter how many times I stomped my feet -- um, foot -- and whined, people kept acting like there was a possible future, or that being kind to other people was a good idea. Fuckers. So... Yeah, that's about it. Not really a plan, per se, but at least our jump drives are still shitty and one-third as powerful as they could be, and I think all seven of us can agree that that's a good thing. Could you pass me the nothing? I'm sort of hungry."

~ from Television Without Pity

Maybe the Socks Need to Lay Off the Sauce...

Such a Little Booze Hound:


I am working on the Globe Trotter socks, and they are taking for-freaking-ever, I swear. I started January fourteenth and I am still working on the first sock - I am only halfway down the foot. It is killing me here. I don't even know how I am going to get through the second sock. I might have to invest in a drug habit. I can't figure out why they are taking so damn long - the pattern is straightforward, and I have been working on them fairly devotedly (other than a brief detour to knit a hat, which took less than a day, really.) I wasn't knitting with mismatched needles, or crazy stitch marker substitutes, or in a darkened theater, and only once under the influence. The martinis seemed to help even, and that heel practically turned itself and didn't look at all the worse for wear the morning after.

The Morning After:


I took the darn thing on a globe trotting (well, province trotting anyways) jaunt! It got to be pictured with knitting icons! Where is the love?

It owes me, and at this point that toe better knit itself.