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Looks like I am becoming one of those "knitters with cats" or "cat people who knit". I've yet to decide which. Read this Yarn Harlot blog entry for a very funny conversation with her cat. Well written and hilarious! Anyway, this little one was found (abandoned, we're pretty sure) on the doorstep of the dry cleaners' opposite friends of ours, miaowing very loudly and sheltering from some heavy rain a couple of days ago:
Steve doorknocked up and down nearby streets to see if he could find some owners missing a kitten, and took her to the vet, to find she had no microchip, while Sam made up a temporary bed and litter tray for her; she has a lovely friendly nature and settled in beautifully with them. Unfortunately, they felt the would not be able to keep her in their wee flat, not being able to let her outside at all, so they began calling friends and family to see if they could find her a permanent home. When Steve called Pete, he said 'No' flat out (and was grateful that I hadn't picked up the phone - I've been harassing him for a furry pet most of last year and he'd pretty well talked me out of it)...
We went over to Sam and Steve's for lunch yesterday, to find that Sam had the phonebook out and was looking for the number of the animal shelter - they just weren't having any luck finding someone to take her home.
I looked over at Pete, saying "They can't take her to the shelter!", and he paused, sighed and said "Okay, if you can't find anyone else, we'll take her". He's a cat man through and through - he can't resist once he's seen them in the flesh.
I mean, look at her - who could resist?
She's going to be coming home to us in the next couple of days, once we've got a space and some things sorted out for her. I can't wait, and Wonderboy loves pussycats. He's very quiet and still around them, and I think he and she will get along well - she wasn't frightened of him at all yesterday!
Now, all we have to do is think of a name. I liked 'Rigby' (as in Eleanor Rigby), but everyone reckons it sounds like a name for a boy cat. But I also like 'Lola', and on a Harry Potter bent, I like 'Ginny' and 'Luna'. I did suggest 'Hermione' and 'Nymphadora', but Pete reckons he'd sound like a tool calling the cat in at night with those names. He likes 'Abbey' (as in Abbey Road). We shall see.
In actual knitting-related news, I finally finished the washcloth for my Mother-in-Law. It's huge (much like most stuff I knit), and ended up using almost an entire ball of "Peaches 'n' Creme". It's done in 182 'Raspberry Swirl'. I love the Ombres range - the colours knit up in such interesting ways over a washcloth.
The little bit of cotton to the left is what I had left after sewing the ends together. That's a big-arse washcloth!
I'm working with a solid green right now, knitting another quick washcloth for myself (it takes away the wrenching feeling of giving another I really really liked away!) with a big ol' pear knitted into it. Why? I dunno!
More news on our little arrival very soon!
I will discuss knitting, I promise.
I just really, really wanted to share (show off) some photos of the vegie garden I put together over the last week with the 'help' of Wonderboy. It's a "no dig" garden, which is kinda interesting to put together, and certainly saves on the backbreaking labour of digging up lawn with a mattock (I wouldn't recommend this; I tried it last year to plant some fruit trees and didn't get far. Then I tried filling in the hole I'd started and didn't get far with that, so now we just have a hole in the middle of the backyard. Pete isn't impressed). There's a good article on the "no dig" garden at Gardening Australia, and their DVD, "Patch From Scratch" was really helpful, too. I love that show - Peter Cundall is so cool! Never has there been a man more excited by manure.
About half the crops were able to be directly planted in (snow peas, pak choy, beetroot, carrot and sunflowers) and the rest (lettuces, broccoli, onions, cabbages, chives and sage) are currently sprouting in seedling trays in my sunroom. No joke - it took all of a week for some of these to come up!
(Top left) Soaked newspaper, recycled timber edging and recycled pavers to divide four small garden beds (I'm going to be doing vegies on a crop rotation basis);
(Top right) Lucerne mulch, roughly ten to twenty centimetres thick;
(Bottom left) Blood 'n' Bone liberally added, plus rotted chook manure;
(Bottom right) Very thick layer of straw, about twenty centimetres thick.
I didn't manage to take photos, but you can probably guess how it looked - the next layer was more chook manure, then several barrows-full of compost to plant into. When the seeds have sprouted, I'll be mulching with another thick layer of straw and Blood 'n' Bone to keep them damp.
Wonderboy does not yet have his sandpit set up and unfortunately viewed my freshly-assembled garden as a prime digging site. Thankfully, he was easily distracted by being able to help me plant sunflower seeds. With help, he was able to pop one in each hole and pat it over, saying "Night-night, seed!" as he went. Here he is, helping me wet all the newspaper down for the first layer.
His gumboots still aren't quite dry.
All in all, it's a good experience for all of us: I can't wait to harvest vegies for the kitchen, and I'm so pleased Wonderboy will be able to 'grow up' in the garden, and really get into it.
In knitting-related news, the "Gypsy" mohair jumper is completed - yep, I ended up being too lazy to tool around with it. Once sewn up, it is very comfortable. A little long? Yes, but it's not overly badly-fitting. in fact, it fits quite well. So the only person who need know it's bit long is me. And anyone else who stumbles in here.
The cream baby 'surprise' was cast off and sewn up. Being quite sick of backstitch, I followed the instructions given in Stitch and Bitch, by Debbie Stoller to graft the ends together, and I'm just awed by how much better it looks and how quick the whole process was! Check this out:
And weave... and pull! It should flatten out in blocking...
I decided to make a collar for this, rather than a hood, since hoods are such a pain in the butt when you want to put a small child down for a sleep. Anything I had with a hood didn't really get used since I'd think "well, he'll need to sleep soon, so I won't use this...". Now I've just got to figure out the collar. I had one crack at it, and did way too many increases too quickly, so it's got a ruffle going through it. So it will be Frog City for collar attempt #1.
While we are touring Frog City, meet my Mother-In-Law's Christmas face washer that didn't make the cut to join other Current Projects in my new Jordana Paige knitting bag. Today I finally hauled the bugger out, frogged back to where I had twenty-one stitches per row (instead of the seventeen I found myself with on Christmas Eve... Ugh) and started up again.
I'm hoping to get that sorted out soon, cause I'm itching to start a couple more projects (another Mystery Baby Gift and a face washer, then a pair of socks are the first to jump to mind), as I feel the need to do a bit of a "Stash Slash" in order to buy lovely new yarn for at least three other projects I have floating around in my mind!
I've been so busy, trying to cram as much productivity as I can into these holidays, as I go back to work on January 28th, and I desperately want lot to show for my time at home. Getting there...
One last show off... Our beautiful purple Pineapple Lily. Considering it spends most of the year looking dead, it certainly makes up for it now!
Crap, there's a hole in my jumper!
*snort* Nah, just joking, that be the neckline! Please excuse the psycho face - I'm quite shocked and don't photograph well. An unfortunate combination!
Well, I've got to the point of sewing up the Mohair Gypsy Jumper, and I've reached a crossroads of some description: I have just completed what feels to be the world's longest jumper, and I have several options.
I do really love how the stripes have come through, but!
You see, I did 'get gauge' (really I did!) and I measured myself before knitting to make sure I was doing the right thing to start with. I found I had to knit the largest size, to accommodate my bust measurement, and i felt that the other measurements would result in a large jumper, but then, I hadn't knit this with any thoughts of it being terribly close fitted to begin with, anyway...
So, here are the options to weigh up:
Option One: I frog it and then re-knit it entirely to the same size, but make the 'front' and 'back' panels at least fifteen stitches shorter;
Option Two: I frog it and re-knit it entirely to the same size, with smaller needles;
Option Three: I sew it up and wear an enormous, quite cosy jumper this coming winter.
Bear in mind, I am lazy and want a result right away (!)
I'm an impatient person. Combine this with the fact that I fall in love easily, and I fall hard - well, I can suffer tremendously from a dangerous affliction, usually seen in Western society; I want it all, and I want it now. I think the technical term is "consumerism", but here's the thing - I don't want merely to have these things (actually, not just material posessions; it's experiences and ways of being, too) for a temporary time, merely to dispose of them when they are no longer as fashionable - crikey, I don't do fashion in any sense of the word - I usually want these things because they are a piece of the life I want to be leading, or the person I want to be.
I see the handspun yarns advertised in 'Creative Knitting'; they're so beautiful, absolutely delicious-looking, but if you were to ask me, I couldn't even tell you immediately what I'd knit from this skein of $35 luxury cashmere or four-ply. But I'll see it, see the time, and skill, and patience that went into spinning and dyeing it, and that's what I want. Instantly.
I see the yarns that Stephanie Pearl-McPhee describes knitting with, and I feel 'desperate' to have them, to knit as she's knitting - I want to be able to make and own something as beautiful as that. But time and money are, as always, issues for us all. And if I were to own it, right now? It would either join the queue in the stash cupboard, or it would bump another project back in the line.
I am currently planning a vegetable garden. My aim is for my family to be a little more self-sufficient, and I want for us to be eating better produce, whose origin I can be certain of. I even went so far as to actually plan, then revise and plan again so I wouldn't go off half-cocked (like so many half-built IKEA purchases squirreled in cupboards around our house - but that's not for here). I researched. I called different landscape garden suppliers. I read books and internet articles. I talked it through with my Mum. I ordered heirloom seeds from the huge, huge range available from The Digger's Club at their exceptional prices, instead of more expensive seedlings from the limited range at some nurseries. I reduced costs (and built enviro-cred) by finding old pine posts and concrete pavers at Mum and Dad's to recycle for garden edging.
And yet, just as I am on the cusp of putting the whole lot together, while I am still on school holidays and so have time available to do this... Money has become an issue. Plus, I'm inconveniencing Pete and Wonderboy for at least a couple of days, having to drag them around and force participation (we need to borrow a trailer to pick up aforementioned posts, pavers and some hay and lucerne bales, plus a trailer load of garden mix - heavy lifting is smarter done in teams!).
I just feel like I get so close to achieving a goal, to find it's just beyond my reach, or totally swept out from under me. I do enjoy and totally love the process of creating the garment, the yarn, or the garden, but something inside me has set off a wee alarm clock - much like a biological clock, but this one's telling me I'm going to run out of time to achieve all the things I want to do, learn, see and experience. Excellence in spinning and dyeing? Tick-tock. Speed, accuracy and creativity in knitting? Tick-tock. Improving and maintaining our home and garden?
Time's running out, and Money is covering Time's back as he makes his getaway in a stolen car.
And then I read back over all that, and realise what a selfish being I can be. I have a beautiful son who, admittedly, allows me to fit some knitting, spinning and gardening into his busy schedule. I have a wonderful husband who tolerates m going on and on and on about these same subjects. I live in a nice home, and have a garden to work in and improve. I have my health, my eyesight and full use of limbs.
I'm doing pretty damn well, and push myself to think some Pollyanna thoughts (glad thoughts, or thanks-giving, I suppose). I think of people out there who are grateful just to be able to procure some seeds and a meagre patch of dirt with which to grow vegetables - and these may be all their family have to live on. People who would and could knit twine on a couple of bush sticks, had arthritis not taken their once dexterous hands.
This will hopefully serve to remind me of how lucky I am to be who and where I am. Things that come to us without effort sometimes weren't worth having in the first place.
My poor, poor yarn monster. There is a body - I should say she has a body, ready to go, arms and legs are knit and awaiting stuffing. I know it sounds indelicate, but it is quite necessary for a well-rounded and functional Yarn Monster appendage. All these essential parts are ready to go, and yet, she is still sitting in the bottom of the paper bag from whence her yarn came.
I'm a bad mother, aren't I?
I decided she will be a she. I'm aiming for her to be a potential Antipodean internet-yarn-monster-love-interest for a young, dashing Yarn monster known as Henry Watts, Esq. Pressure much? You may read of Henry's exploits here, at A Little Bit Of Happy. I'm nervous for her, though. What if he never realises she even exists*? Her little woolen heart might break.
Ah, but what to name the wee lass? I'm getting the feeling with the flashy, 'come hither' stripes that this Yarn Monster girlie will be a bit of a hussy, so I've decided to figure out a way to knit her some big, lolly-pink lips. These two planned characteristics have had me thinking of potential names. Ruby is the standout for me at the moment, but I wonder if there will be something more suitable? When she is complete, I may post a list of suggestions and let it come down to an online vote.
And along the somewhat dubious segue that is the topic of 'birth', now would be a good time to say Happy New Year! (see where I went there? Birth of the new year? 2008? Good, you're on the same page. This is encouraging.) I hope everyone has enjoyed the celebrations - I know I did; we took Wonderboy down the coast to Austinmer today for a swim. Conditions were too rough to go in properly, but the weather was lovely and he enjoyed digging in the sand and paddling in the "Big Bath" as he described it, until the poor little bloke was knocked base over apex when a larger wave whooshed up the sand. I hauled him out, spluttering and yelling, but when he calmed a bit, he asked to be put down in the water again. Back on the horse that threw him. Here he is, expressing the patented Wonderboy 'sheer joy of existence' that he does so well:
And, before I leave you all; here is the reason for the birth of the young Yarn Monster being put on hiatus - Secret Baby Project. I'll just show some nondescript shots here, so as not to give the game away... I'm motoring along with it - literally; it's car knitting (read: plain boring garter stitch knitting) at the moment so I can GET IT DONE!!!
*I do see the irony in me being upset that Henry Watts, Esq may never know she exists, since right now, she as an entire 'Yarn Being' literally doesn't exist.
