Still More STITCHES

One of my favorite surprises of the day was meeting Kim Dolce from Dolce Hand Knits. I'd seen some of her sweaters on Jimmy Beans' website but seeing them in person took it to a whole new level. I love how she takes classic lines and makes them very contemporary with subtle design elements. Julie fell in love with a little capelet called, Linville (Why didn't we buy that?) and I'd already purchased the Montauk cardigan (which will be made using the Malabrigo worsted.) She was so charming and interesting to talk to, I could have hung around the booth all day.

One of the potentially most dangerous things we did at Stitches was to actually knit with Signature Needles. Julie had been complaining that her bamboo sock needles were bending and was on a mission to find an alternative. She purchased some metal needles but I worried that they were going to be too slippery for her taste--even as a beginner she preferred wooden needles. As we approached the Signature Needle Arts table, we spied some double points and the lady at the table invited us to try them out. Now I wish we hadn't. They were simply dreamy. All of the needles are made of hand polished aluminum with shiny, stiletto points--there just wasn't going to be any yarn splitting with these little guys. Of course, the price gave me pause--45$ While I believe that good tools are an investment, I also know how many dp's I've lost in my knitting life. I think I'm going to resist.

As the afternoon wore on, we both realized that we were feeling the effects of sensory overload--so many yummy yarns to touch, so many wonderful colorsways to see, and far too many ideas to process. We were exhausted and ready to head home.

Later, I thought about the day. All in all, it was a perfect day and I felt very fortunate to have had the opportunity to attend such an event. (Next year, it will be in Hartford, Conn. and I doubt I'll make the trip.) More than that, I felt blessed that I have a daughter that I could share it with. It wouldn't have been half so much fun without her. Man, I sure am glad I taught that kid to knit!

Totally in Stitches

What a lovely day we had at Stitches East! Scheduling conflicts prevented us from going on Friday, as I had originally planned but it worked out great. I'd been fearful that Sunday, which was the last day, would be, well, less fruitful, but I was wrong. Instead, we had light traffic coming into the city, we quickly found a good place to park, and there were no lines anywhere--even in the ladies' room! The vendors did seem to be a little tired, but everyone we met was friendly and eager to talk to us. Best of all, there still seemed to be an abundance of fibers and fiber-related goodies for us to admire and buy.

I went with a small list of things I wanted to scope out: Malabrigo worsted, Lanaloft, and Knitter's Blocks. Julie wanted to get metal size #1 needles and to experience lots of yarn. With the exception of Lanaloft, we got everything on the lists and then some.


One of the first thrills came when we realized we were in Lisa Souza's booth. I'd never seen her wool in person but the girls from the Stash and Burn podcast talk about it fairly often and now I know why. The colorways were dazzling. Lisa was very sweet and we got her hubby to take our picture. I felt like we'd just met a knitting star!

We went to WEBS, one of my favorite online sources. If their store is anything like their booth, I should never go there! They had soooo much wool and it was great to be able to see and touch some of the wools I've studied on their site. Also, the booth was well manned with several young folks who were not only very knowledgeable, but friendly and eager to help. Julie bought some Classic Elite Cotton Bamboo and I got my Malabrigo worsted. Probably because it was the last day of the show, there were only a few skeins of each color--not enough for an entire cardigan BUT there was an entire bag of the Bobby Blue, one of my favorites from the website. That's a sign, right? I had to get it. Kathy and Steve, the owners of WEBS, were working hard at the cash registers but they took a moment to pose for a photo. Thanks, guys!

From there, we went on to check out the Qiviut (Musk Oxen yarn,) the Mannings' amazing book selection, and a new product, Jelly Yarn--which we decided was best left untested. We also ran into Sanguine Gryphon, a fellow Eastern Shore resident and fabulous fiber artist, and waited breathlessly for the announcements of the door prizes. Did we win? Find out with tomorrow's post!

A New Boy to Love

A few weeks ago, I came across a picture of a cute pooch on the website of one of the local shelters. It looked so much like our little Fozzie, who passed last year, that I had to stop and look again. Shortly thereafter, Paul and I went to "interview" him and applied to adopt him. He's been with us for about a week now and, although having a second dog is fraught with challenges, I think this one is going to be a keeper. His name is Jack and he seems to be a mix of Lab, Schnauzer and Mexican jumping bean.
Miss Molly was, at first, very upset that she'd have to share her kingdom, but she seems to be coming around. Already, I have found them side by side, looking out the window in the living room. No one will ever replace Foz but it's nice to have another someone to love.

Home Again, Home Again

Ok, so I've been a long time gone and one of my readers--the one that I'm not related to--is said to have nearly swooned when she got a short email from me. Please forgive me. Anyone who knows me knows how self-absorbed I can be, but I apologize. I'll try to do better.

This weekend, Paul and I embarked on another of our two-wheeled adventures. We left Friday morning and drove to Arbovale, WVA, near Snowshoe Mtn. Resort, for a bit of riding in the mountains. The trip out was smooth and uneventful, which is just the way we like it. When we got into the hills, the temperature dropped significantly and before I knew it, I was thinking how I'd only packed one long sleeved tee shirt and no other jackets. Saturday morning was actually chilly but everything else was just perfect. The sky was a deep azure blue, spotted with puffy white cumulus clouds. I layered up with my rain jacket over my summer riding gear and we were good to go.

Our plan was to go to "The Hutte" in a little town called Helvatia. In the mid 1800's, a group of Swiss immigrants settled in the area because it was so much like their homeland. Today, it's still a "blink and it's gone" kind of place, but the thing is, if you stop, you'll find it's a little jewel out in the woods. (http://www.wvculture.org/history/wvhs1311.html) The Hutte is a family run restaurant in an old farmhouse, packed with antiques and historical memorabilia. It's a little like going to your grammy's house for dinner, minus all the emotional baggage. The food is all homemade, including the bread, the country sausage, and the cheese. If you ever go, share a sandwich and save room for the the homemade cobbler because it's the star of the menu and definately worth every calorie.



The ride home on Sunday was a bit more challenging. As we hit the interstate and rode into Virginia, it began to rain. I dislike riding in the rain, but that's a risk you run when you ride motorbikes. Besides, as my dear husband always says, that's what they make rainsuits for. I hunkered down behind Paul but I realized that this was not just a simple shower. It felt like we were being pelted by a barrage of frozen peas. Hailstones! All around us, cars were pulling over but we kept on going. I knew that stopping would do us no good, but it was unnerving to see so many others giving up. All I could do was pray for the best. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over.

I was ready for our adventure to be over but it wasn't--quite. When we stopped to rest and call home, the news was that traffic on the Bay Bridge was backed up for about 8 miles due to an early morning crash that sent an eighteen wheeler over the side and into the water. Fortunately, because the eastbound span--the site of the accident--opened up as we approached, the trip across only took us two hours more than it would have.

Thankfully, our little jaunts are usually much less episodic but I still love to come home. Last night, I was a whole lot happier than usual.

Knitting is the new yoga--huh?

Go on my Ravelry project list and you'll see that I've spent the entire summer working on knitted lace tops: Cece cardigan from Bonne Marie Burns (www.chicknits.com), Lotus Blossom Tank from Interweave Knits, and Hey Teach from Helene Rush (http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEsummer08/PATTheyteach.html.) None are particularly challenging but I've had my share of frustration knitting them, especially Hey Teach. I'll bet there's not 15 rows in the entire sweater that I haven't ripped out and reknit at least once! First, I realized, after having done most of the back section, that I was knitting the wrong size. Then, I had problems maintaining a consistent stitch count while doing the armhole shaping. When I got things going on the armhole, it occurred to me that I'd neglected to decrease for the neckline. After I ripped back (again) and did the neckline shaping, I did it on the wrong side (talk about feeling stupid!)

About that time, I saw an old article somewhere that claimed that, "knitting was the new yoga." HA! I scoffed. "Whoever wrote that couldn't have known how to knit or do yoga," I thought. When I do yoga, I come away with a satisfied, even feeling that has absolutely no relationship to the awful tightness that I'd been feeling in my neck. Knitting is NOT the new yoga.

Something told me it was time to walk away for awhile.

A few days later, I was extolling the benefits of yoga to a co-worker. I heard myself saying, "By concentrating on your breath, you forget about everything else. It keeps you focused on the pose and how your body feels while doing it." Suddenly, I thought of my sweater and I got it.

My knitting problems were all about focus. Every stitch I'd made was only a step toward a glorious future that I'd imagined for those sweaters: how cute they'd be, how I'd love wearing them, and, oh yes, how many many compliments I'd get when I wore them. It was like I was a runner, just willing myself toward the finish line so that the race would be over. I'd completely forgotten about how the yarn felt as it slipped through my fingers and the sheer joy of creating a fabric with each stitch. It was as if I'd done my yoga practice while holding my breath.

So, here's the deal. I still disagree that knitting is the new yoga--that's just Madison Avenue jibber jabber. Good knitting, like good yoga, is all about the present. I'm going to go back to my knitting and I'm just going to concentrate on each stitch and row. Sooner or later, it might even turn into a sweater!

Memorial Day Musings

To many, Memorial Day is more about the first days of summer, about pools opening and the traffic on the Bay Bridge. For most of my life, that's what it meant to me, too.

As a child, I knew that my father had been a soldier. His left hand was missing the index finger and the middle finger bore the signs of having been repaired with a skin graft. On his stomach, there was a square scar where the skin for that graft had been removed. I have a vague memory of my father telling me that he'd lost his finger, "in the war." So, I took for granted that all fathers had been to war and I didn't see any reason why that fact was special.

That is, until my father died.

At the memorial service, one of his army buddies remembered him as a "good soldier." Afterwards, he sent me a newspaper article that he'd written about his own wartime experiences. It described the firefight in which my father had been shot in the hand while manning a machine gun. I read the paragraph over and over. I think it was the first time that I truly considered the magnitude of my father's experience. Too late, I realized how awful it must have been for the young man who would later become my father.

Recently, I watched Ken Burns' film about WWII. It made me so sad. I saw my father in every battle--one of many, many young men who had answered a call to defend their country from an enemy they'd never seen. The veterans who were interviewed spoke candidly about the war. They described the horror of seeing their friends die and about the fear that they too, would soon be killed. One wept as he talked about how different he felt when he returned home.

So my feelings about Memorial Day are now very different. Perhaps it is the one day that I think about my father the most. There is sadness because he is gone and some questions will never be answered but there is also a certain pride in knowing that he played an important part in history. He was a good soldier.

A Sweet Treat

Today was my day off and I spent it, as I often do, doing some knitting while listening to a book on my iPod. Molly was sleeping soundly on the bed and I was so absorbed that we failed to notice that the UPS man had paid us a visit. Ordinarily, Molly lets the entire neighborhood know when he comes but today, she snored through it all. When I went out on the porch for the mail there was a huge box from King Arthur Flour company. Recently, I'd shared with one of my longtime friends that I've often thought of getting one of their donut baking pans and for a birthday surprise, she ordered me a whole boatload of donut baking goodies: a pan, donut mix, various sugar toppings, icing mix, even a little teddy bear sugar shaker. It was so lovely!

I thought I'd wait til after dinner to make donuts for hubby and me, but I didn't make it so, behold...my sweet trip to the holey land.