I can wind my own balls

Not that I'm not thankful to those who have helped me wind my balls, and sometimes, have wound my balls for me. I am thankful. But you see, I have an independent streak - the need to do it myself.

My husband also played a part in this. Thinking he was being a good enabler, he searched the city at Christmas for what he thought was the full meal deal - he managed to get half the package - the winder. And so, I have been saving my pennies to buy the swift as well.

It is ~ oh so beautiful and ~ oh so worth every penny. I have seen a few swifts in my day, but this one seems to sparkle in the sunlight :)

Here it is winding 100% silk from Tangled Skeins. This happens to be a gift for someone VERY special... I can't tell you who, or even what it is going to be, but I can show you the cake of beautifully wound silk.

The picture does not do the colors justice - blues, yellows, and purples. It reminds me of the ocean.

And though the late night ball winding parties will be no more, perhaps we can bring our own cakes and knit them too (sorry, I had to).

In case you're tempted I ordered it locally from Lucy Neatby's company Tradewind Knitwear Designs Inc.

Ta Da !

Well, after a long lapse in blogging ~ due to the fact I have been obsessed with, well knitting ~ I'm back.

Yes ~ the Greek Pullover from Interweave is COMPLETE.

Ta Da !!
This is the sweater I will never forget. My mantra - 'Trust in the Pattern' did not necessarily work for this one. First of all, forget about the Chiffon edging as indicated in the pattern. Fray the edge? What the heck was the designer thinking? Perhaps, 'It's only for a picture. No one ever plans on actually wearing this.'

Puh! So, if you plan on making this, buy 5" wide strips, not 2.5" as indicated, fold and hem the fabric before sewing into the ditch. Or buy a nice little tank, like I did.

The yarn (Rowan Kid Classic) was perfect. I bought an extra ball for my size - just in case - but did not need :)

This my friends, may well be the reason I haven't blogged. I haven't been able to face other knitters. I have not gone to Sn'B, and with the exception of the Shop (Tangled Skeins), I have had very little human interaction.


I had a knitting meltdown.... yes, that can happen. My husband is witness ~ poor man.

It was late at night. Project sprawled out in the dining room with sewing machine, needles, and ... The Chiffon. The meltdown happened. After the chiffon discovery (see above), after sewing the edge on the bottom of the sweater and both sleeves, chiffon was fraying everywhere. Chiffon spider webbs were taking over the dining room, covering my beautiful sweater, mangling and strangling my creativity. So I stitch ripped it all out and threw it in a chiffon webb pile in the corner of the room. Finished with that, I decided to move along. Spring was coming fast and it would soon be too warm to wear the lush lambswool-mohair mix.

I started seeming the arms. NOTE: Do not use any other stitch than the mattress stitch to seam this sweater. In my little to no experience with seaming, I had no idea what stitch to use. The stitching dictionary has MANY stitches for seaming; bulky, flexible, invisible... I was swimming in a sea of seams - I AM A KNITTER.

Then it happened... the scar. A ginormas scar up the sleeve.

I took the sleeve in my arms and cradled it to my chest. Before I knew it my body was shaking beyond my control. Tears streaming down my face. My husband (God bless him), noticed the lack of movement and silence in the dining room. During a commercial break of his beloved Hockey game (it's ok Toronto - there's always next year. Keep your heads up. Sorry Pat - my thoughts are with you.) He pulled himself away from his hockey game and slowly approached me. "How you making out?" His question full of silent undertones that I could hear, but at this point was beyond caring. I slowly pulled the sleeve away from my chest to show him the scar I had made - that took me 4 hours to make. "That looks nice?" His uncertainty threw me over the edge. I was now in a full blown Ugly cry. "It doesn't look nice. It looks horrible. It looks like a scar. A massive ugly scar down the sleeve of my beautifully romantic Greek PULLOVER!"

Point of no return.

He slowly backed away into the kitchen. He reappeared, placed a cold open beer on the dining room table, head down, and went back to his hockey game.

So, now you know.

I believe everything happens for a reason, and this was a just learning curve in my knitting career:
- I love Knitting. I can sew, but I don't like it.
- I love Chiffon, but it must be hemmed - NEVER frayed.
- Trust in the pattern ~ until it leads you astray, then improvise.
- To find correct seaming technique, just do a little first.

* Sigh * I feel so much better, now I can move on.

Have also been knitting:

Fuzzy Feet of course :)














I have taken it to a new level (for me), and started needle felting designs on them. I'm enjoying the needle felting. Not great at it yet, but the possibilities are endless - and I'm very excited about it.

Am O.Ding on fingerless gloves. I knit a pair for my little niece out of sock yarn. A pair for my 'soldier' friend for making it through boot camp ~ YEAH! I thought she could use something girly. I used a Blue Sky Alpaca pattern with Louisa Harding's Nylon/Mohair mix. They have a little ruffle - very cute. Sorry, no pics, but will post if I catch them being worn.

I did the gauntlet gloves for myself in Lucy Neatby's Celestial Merino, Bittersweet Chocolate. I love. I LOVE!
I can wear them long or short. I can wear them with a skort. I can wear them with a T-shirt. I can wear them with a pretty skirt. I can wear them under my jean jacket. I can wear them while I shake a sugar packet... You get the idea.

Currently working on a Mohair scarf (from Scarf Style) for a Christmas gift.

It's basically a feather and fan pattern. I like how it looks like a water color... or is that just me?

Working on some other projects as well. Typical startitis. You know what I mean if you're obsessed as well.

My stash is doing well - living, breathing, growing - just like me.