Manic Monday

It's just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my funday
My I don't have to runday
It's just another manic Monday
-The Bangles

Remember this?


I had hoped to have a finished Crocus Pocus to share with you this afternoon. That's why I'm posting so late in the day.


But fate had other ideas.


Between fiddling about with the border...


And an unscheduled pause...


To collect the beads...


Which flew all over the room...


When the bowl broke.


Which happened when it hit the floor...


Because I sprang up...


Suddenly.


Because the cat fell...


Loudly...


On the stairs...


To my studio...


With a loud and piteous yowl.


I thought she was having a seizure...


Or a heart attack.


She's fine...


Just clumsy...


I'm fine...


Just tired of picking up beads...


SIGH!


OY!


VEY!


NURTZ!


BUGGER!


OK. I feel all better now.


Thanks for letting me vent...


Time to rework this section:


Thanks to all the volunteer test knitters. I am inundated (to say nothing of flattered beyond belief!) What a nice problem to have... Will be contacting you all shortly.


Big announcement tomorrow!


Y'all com back now, y'hear?

You Say Eh-RAY-tah and I Say Eh-RAH-tah. Let's NOT Call the Whole Thing Off...

MARS SUSAN NEEDS WOMEN TEST KNITTERS!

I need a couple volunteers to test knit Sherwood and Crocus Pocus. Both are smaller scarf projects that involve basic lace skills and crochet hook beading. Samples do not need to be completed in original yarn, as I will use my own versions for the pattern picture. Let your own imagination fly free...

What do you get? You get the pattern free of charge and get to be the first on the blogosphere block to knit one of these beauties!

And if you call within the next five minutes, we'll throw in a set of ginsu knives...

Not really. I just got carried away...

What do I get? A chance to de-bug and make sure that other knitters understand my pattern.

What do we get? A chance to make new knitting friends (my favorite part!)

Time is of the essence, so please take a pass if you can't free up the time to knit one of these within the next 2 weeks or so.



























And now for something completely different...

It astounds me how many designers resent people pointing out their mistakes. I have heard horror stories of non-responsive, angry people insisting, even when confronted with the truth in black and white, that there could not POSSIBLY be an error in their pattern.

I don't do that. For many reasons:

• I believe no one is perfect
• I believe my mistakes teach me humility
• I believe humility brings me closer to God
• I believe there is an unspoken contract between designer, yarn producer, and knitter: to work together in good faith to bring forth, not only a beautiful and satisfactory FO, but also a rewarding knitting experience.
• I believe denial and self-delusion are defeating attitudes
  
• I believe in my knitters: when you're right, you're right
• I believe we are all in this world together, and we had better help each other through
• I believe you've probably had enough manifesto for now...
  
  Anyway, I have held off on a comprehensive errata posting for Moroccan Days/Arabian Nights. (Forgive me if I've already told you this, but...if I had had any idea how many times I would type that extremely l-o-n-g moniker, I would have named it, "Fred!" Or maybe, "Omar!")
  
  Not because I didn't want to admit my mistakes. But because I wanted to make sure all of them were corralled into the same enclosure, before I started branding them with the Sunflower logo. Now that four different knitters (some chart-readers, some written direction aficionados) have completed the first half (making it through the pattern once, before repeating) I am hopeful that we have hogtied them all. But I make no promises...
  
  Errata are wily little critters. They run when they see someone comin' round the mountain. And they are notably ornery cusses, throwing off numerous attempts to tie them down. But most of all? They are masters at camouflage. They hide out in the sagebrush, right under our noses, resisting many attempts at detection until some intrepid knitter actually looks closely at the directions and hollers, "Wait a minute, sheriff Pandorf! I think we got us a live one..."
  
  So, a big and humble thank you to all my deputies. Without you, our wild world of knitting would be a lawless wilderness.
  
  

  Moroccan Days/Arabian Nights Errata

  Chart A, row 41, stitch 20:

  Should be purl, not knit. Written directions are correct.

  Chart C:

  On rows 7, 9, & 11, 2nd stitch in from edge should be a knit 2 together. All right side rows on this chart begin with a beaded yarnover, k2 tog. Written directions are correct.

  Chart G4, row 19, st 40:

  Should be YO, not knit, as written.

  Schematic:

  I meant to put G1 & G3 on the right side triangles and G2 & G4 on the left side triangles. Directions are correct. Diagram is correct. Label is specious.

  Pg. 8, Written Dir. Chart A

  Row 8 should read: (P1, k1tbl) twice, (bead1, k1) twice, k2*, not k1* as written.

  Row 17 should read: Repeat to last 7 stitches, not 8 stitches, as written. Chart is correct.

  Page 12 at bottom:

  Should read:

  End panel

  Row 1: (WS) Purl. Row 2: Knit. Row 3: P1, slide 20 beads close to RH needle, k1tbl, forming a beaded loop, k2; rep from, end p1. Rows 4 -8: Knit. Row 9: Knit 94, knit 2 tog, knit 94 (189 stitches)

  Pg 13, one third of the pg. down, after line beginning with Next Row:

  Should read: work chart D (leaf shadows) over next 27 stitches, not 26, as written.

  “It is unwise to be too sure of one's own wisdom. It is healthy to be reminded that the strongest might weaken and the wisest might err.”

  - Mahatma Gandhi
  
  

Sail Away

"So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
—Mark Twain

Wow! It's been a while, hasn't it? Time flies when you're having fun...

So, where have I been?

Sailing.

"But Susan," I can hear you saying ( What? You don't hear voices in your head? Is it just me? Me too. What? ME TOO! Shh, I hate it when you interrupt. Who me? Shut up and let me think...)

Where was I, before I was so rudely interrupted? Oh yes...

"But Susan, how is it you have been sailing, when the rest of us have been slogging through melting slush and mud? Have you been on vacation and forgot to tell us? You didn't even ask one of us to be your test knitter tourist to guard against inadvertent mistakes (luggage displacement, inadequate sunscreen distribution, dropped stitches sunglasses, etc!)"

Rest assured, I have not budged from the sunflower farm. I have, however, been traveling in my mind.

Next month, Scott and I will celebrate our 29th anniversary. And, while this is not exactly a landmark, next year's annual event will be cause for exceptional celebration. Every five years, we celebrate with a little trip. Our twentieth was marked with a week in Hawaii, and we enjoyed our twenty-fifth with a slightly shorter (due to the fact that I was enrolled in Seminary at the time) voyage to the wine country of Northern California. We had a wonderful time in both locales and are now beginning to look ahead to our thirtieth.

So, when I needed a break (yes, even I occasionally put down the needles) last week, I went to my trusty laptop and surfed the net for someplace warm, tropical, romantic, laid back, and cheap enough we could avoid selling the children into slavery to raise the necessary funds.

I spent a lot of time in the virtual world, looking at scenes like this:

To steal a line from Ma Bell, it's the next best thing to being there. It ain't spring break in Florida but, as diversions go, it ain't a bad way to kill a little r & r time...

And it got me to thinking (always a danger...)

How many times I wish the course was clear, and straight, and short, and direct.

And how many times I have to tack.

If you are familiar at all with sailing, you know that the shortest distance between two points may indeed be a straight line, but you can't get there from here, unless the wind is blowing in exactly the right direction.

Unlike other forms of boating, you cannot control your course; you can only adapt to the conditions that present themselves. You are, to a certain degree, dependent upon the whim and mercy of the wind.

So many times, in my life, I see where I want to go. And I do my best to stride ahead purposefully in that direction, only to be taken aback and pulled up short by a perceived setback or roadblock. So I must re-chart my course, adjust my sails, and detour around the obstacle, muttering under my breath ruefully, regretting the additional time and effort this requires.

When I reach the other side, I turn and survey the territory I have recently covered and can (nearly always) see exactly how I got there. And I understand how what seemed like an unnecessary circumnavigation at the time was, in reality, essential to my timely arrival in safe harbor.

But, at the time? Hah! I fret. I fuss. I try my darnedest to make the wind blow MY WAY, DAMN IT!

Have you ever tried this? Yeah, well...good luck with that...

I am not nearly so philosophical. I fight frustration, as, I am sure, you do as well. It is the human condition.

Sometimes, it seems we will never reach our goals. Wouldn't it be simpler to just ditch the boat altogether, and swim?

Even if the waters are infested with piranha and sharks?

It often seems that way, doesn't it?

But I know that God sees a larger picture than I do. I see the shore. God sees the full map of the Caribbean with all the shoals and sandbars clearly marked.

So I sigh; I let up on the rope; I pay out the line; I adjust.

Because I know something else as well.

If I keep faith, the divine wind begins to blow, as it always does. And it sees me safely home.

It is but for me to trim my sails.

******

After much tacking last week, Sherwood is well on her way to her desired destination. I am loving the seasilk's sheen and glowing green richness.

But it was not a straight shot across the forest. No-siree-bob!

She took on a lot of water in her construction, but every time I pulled her back, she sailed truer for the course adjustment.

A swagged design turned into a garter stitch leaf design, turned into a stockinette stitch, turned into a reverse stockinette stitch, turned into both!

A leaf insert turned into an all over lace pattern with some adaption and removal of extraneous elements.

And each time, I delayed posting pictures until she was a little further along on her voyage.

Before I knew it, a week had passed.

And I was still sailing...

Though this time, along a more manageable course, with the wind at my back.

At least until the next...

Obstacle

Opportunity

Wind shift...

******

In other news, look for a MD/AN errata posting later today (wOOt! BIG fun there...)
And make sure you visit the Woolen Rabbit. Kim has done up the cutest little stitch markers for the McGregor's Garden sock. Thanks to the industrious efforts of Donna Lee and Heatherly, the kit should be available soon!

Am also looking into reorganizing the website to provide easier and more complete access to pattern information. DH is workin' on it...

******

Is it any wonder, with pictures like this in my head:


I began thinking of a summer pattern called Caribbean Dreams?


Made out of this?









Now the only question is:






Which beads?







And what shape?








And what pattern?







I think I feel the wind comin' up...

Do You Believe in Magic?

Do you believe in magic?
In a young girls heart
How the music can free her
whenever it starts

And it's magic
if the music is groovy
It makes you feel happy like an old time movie

I'll tell ya about the magic
It'll free your soul
but it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock n roll

If you believe in magic, don't bother to choose
If it's jug band music or rhythm and blues
Just go and listen
It'll start with a smile
It won't wipe off your face no matter how hard you try
Your feet start tapping
And you can't seem to find
How you got there
So just blow your mind

If you believe in magic
Come along with me
We'll dance until morning, just you and me
and maybe, if the music is right
I'll meet ya tomorrow
so late at night

We'll go a dancin' baby then you'll see
all the magic's in the music and the music's in me, yeah

Do you believe in magic? Yeah.
Believe in the magic in a young girl's soul
believe in the magic of rock n roll
Believe in the magic that can set you free
Ohhhh, talkin' bout magic

MAGIC CARPET SCARF

FINISHED MEASUREMENTS (after blocking):

12 inches wide by 60 inches long

MATERIALS: 850 yards Lace Weight yarn.

Prototype knit with Woolen Rabbit lace yarn (Moroccan Spice)

1400 size 8/0 seed beads
SIZE 3 (US)NEEDLES

This beaded scarf measures: 12 in. wide by 60 inches long and makes a lovely addition to any wardrobe.

Materials:
800 -850 yards 2 ply lace weight
1400 size 8 seed beads
US 3 / 3.25 mm needles

Design is both charted and written. Advanced intermediate level. Beading directions are included for both stringing and crochet hook placement.

Knittin' o' the Green

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.



And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.


I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
-William Butler Yeats

In honor of St. Paddy's day, we are featuring green knitting here on the sunflower farm.

That's 400-some yards of verdant Handmaiden Sea Silk in Forest with bronze beads.

I spent most of today putting final touches on the pattern for the Magic Carpet scarf, but in between times, when my eyes tired of the computer strain, I managed a lovely little beaded cast-on, for a scarf I am tentatively naming Sherwood.

What happened to Crocus Pocus? She is temporarily on hold. It seems I do not know my own strength. Over the weekend I broke, not one, but two crochet hooks placing the beads.

Must be all those heavy duty thumb calisthenics...

In other news, McGregor's Garden socks are currently being test knit by Donna Lee and Heatherly. Go take a peek if you like. More green goodness...

And blocked pictures of Magic Carpet will be up on the blog tomorrow. Kim is rejuvenated by her weekend off, up to date on all the MD/AN orders, and winding wool for the scarf kits as I write this...

While we wait, let's take another look at that beaded cast on:

I am sure someone else has done it before, but I figured it out all by myself, so I'm still allowed to be proud of it.

Besides, it is always cause for celebration, whenever I have tangible proof that the old grey matter is still what she used to be...

Sure and begorrah!

Enough

"Want is a growing giant whom the coat of Have was never large enough to cover."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

This week, I have been pondering the phrase, "Enough is enough."

On the surface, that phrase could not be simpler - noun, verb, adjective.

But, like most oversimplifications, it provides impetus to some very interesting questions:

How do we determine enough? Is it a line drawn in the sand: over here I am wanting, but on the other side I am replete? Or is it more like the slow transition of color found in a skein of Noro yarn: a subtle shift so gradual that it does not register as such until we arrive at a new paradigm, turn around and wonder how we got here?

Do we always know when we have reached "enough?" Or, like our stomachs, do we need a brief period to register fullness?

If enough is enough, then is too much of a good thing...

Wonderful? Bad? Or something in between?

And who determines precisely how much we need, versus how much we want? Ourselves? Our families? Our government? (God forbid...) Our faith?

When is "enough" enough?

************

A few years back, my friend Greg and I had an interesting discussion pursuant to the book we were working on at the time. He posited that every one of us is prone to one of the seven deadly sins more than the other six.

For those not up to date on their vices, the "seven deadlys" read as follows:

• Lust
• Gluttony
• Greed
• Sloth
• Wrath,
• Envy
• Pride

After some carefull consideration, I determined that "my" sin was gluttony. And not the kind that sends so many into eating disorders. No, mine was a more generalized gluttony.

• The kind that stockpiles toilet paper, just in case...
• The kind that buys two pairs of jeans instead of one, because they might stop making the ones that fit me...
• The kind that collects enough sock yarn to properly clothe the sixth regiment...
• The kind that has over 20 designs in process (Hmmm... DIPs, as opposed to WIPs... how appropriate...)
• The kind that orders two scoops instead of one...
• The kind that will throw herself under a train for a friend, but forget to return a phone call...
• The kind that will stay up all night to finish a project or a book...
• The kind that burns the house down around her, while she focuses single-mindedly, obsessively and above all, exclusively, on the task at hand...
• The kind that doesn't know how to say, "enough" and doesn't know the meaning of the word, "moderation"...

My life is a constant struggle: for balance, for perspective, for the ability to say...

Enough.

And move on.

************

This week, two of my friends have experienced issues with sufficiency. Kim has been dyeing noon and night to keep up with the demand for kits of MD/AN. So what do I do? I design a scarf and send her more business. Not that she isn't happy for it; she is.

But she went into this (at my instigation, I might add) before she had enough (yarn). And then, in the blink of an eye, or the click of a mouse, she had too much (orders) and it wasn't always wonderful. So she put on the brakes for a few days this week, shutting down the Woolen Rabbit until supply could catch up with demand.

Enough was enough. And she knew when and how and why she reached that point. All things in moderation... I admire her for knowing when she had reached that point. There is more to life than yarn, after all.

(Wait a minute; forget I said that; don't want to be burned at the stake flogged with turbo needles for heresy)

Kim's slow-down allowed me time to take a deep breath as well. I have been working 14 hour days recently, neglecting much of the rest of my life in the process.

Whoops! There's that gluttony things rearing its ugly (to say nothing of overstuffed) head again: If one is good, then two is better, and three would be best of all...

In a few days, balance will be restored, minds and hands will be rested, and we will both be better able to meet the needs and challenges of our chosen calling.

Consider it a brief sabbatical. We will be back shortly...

Others are not so lucky.

Ravelry, and the world in general, lost someone last week: 56 years old, to an aneurysm, which came on, by all accounts, both suddenly and unexpectedly. (AZ knitter) Trish's death seems to have touched so many people, especially my new friend Vi who has struggled mightily this week to make some sort of sense from the senseless.

While never having met Trish, I had exchanged private messages with her. She was a member of our KAL and was looking forward to the publication of Magic Carpet, so she could start with something smaller. One day, she was asking me questions; the next day, she was gone.

And though I have experienced the loss second hand, I find I have been deeply moved by her passing, and the way it has destabilized what seemed like security, and safety, and assurance that the world would unfold according to our plan.

It is not necessarily a bad thing to realize our finite state and own up to our powerlessness. After all, that is how we come to faith. If we did not need, perhaps we would not want.

But, when this knowledge comes at the cost of a friend, a wife, a mother, we wind up in the shadows, asking, "Why?"

• "Why her?"
• "Why here?"
• "Why now?"

As with all sudden losses, she left us wanting more.

• More laughter
• More love
• More friendship
• More joy
• More hope
• More faith

Just...

More...

Because sometimes, there is no such thing as "enough."

Signs of Spring

"Measure your health by your sympathy with morning and spring. If there is no response in you to the awakening of nature -- if the prospect of an early morning walk does not banish sleep, if the warble of the first bluebird does not thrill you -- know that the morning and spring of your life are past. Thus may you feel your pulse."
-Henry David Thoreau

Signs of incipient spring are everywhere, if you just know where to look.


The snow is melting away...






The sky is a brilliant blue...








The snowdrops are pushing their brave little blooms through the detritus of last season's denouement.

Everywhere you look, the earth is stirring, waking up from her long winter nap.

The thermometer may still linger in the 40s, but spring draws ever closer with each passing day.

Ah yes! Sylvan spring...

When every young man's fancy turns to love and every young woman's fancy turns to...

what do I have to wear knit for the warmer months ahead?

Sorry, but I call 'em like I see 'em.

With the snowdrops bursting into bloom, and the narcissus poking their shoots above ground, can the crocus be far behind?

Well, actually...

Guess not!

Meet Crocus Pocus, the newest edition to the Sunflower Designs family.

She's a flippy, flirty little slip of a lace kerchief, done up in crocus-like shades of new leaf green, sunshine yellow, and bright-eyed blue. The perfect thing to drape around your neck to brighten up your trench coat or denim jacket this season.


Now I ask you, is this yarn not the essence of spring? (Handmaiden calls this shade, "Dandelion." To each, her own...)







And yes, there are beads. (When are there not?)

To bead or not to bead - is it even a question?







My first swatch was too undefined. And the bead placement surrounding each motif did nothing to enhance the pattern.




But adding rows to the motif elongates the pattern into a crocus type shape, and comes closer to what I had in mind.

Moving the beads to the inner confines of the floral shape reinforces instead of fighting against the pattern.

This one only took a couple iterations before coalescing into a finished design. Of course, the border design lurks around the corner, hoping to pop out and ambush me, like a late winter snowstorm.(Boy, do I know how to stretch a metaphor or what? I can feel my editor cringing...)

But I have some ideas on paper that I think will work well.

More repeats remain to be completed, before adding the leafy border I designed, but, even with the beading, she zips right along.

And then...

The best part of all:

These cunning little flower shaped yellow and blue glass beads I found at my LBS (local bead store.)

Are they just not the best?

A little trail of crocus buds dangling along the bottom edge.

Ah, spring...

It's just around the corner and comin' on fast...

Iterations

Some years back, my husband and I were moving briskly north, along M-22 in Leelanau County, Michigan, on our way to burgers and brew at Fischer's Happy Hour Tavern, when we took a wrong turn.

The sky was breathtaking, the lakeshore beckoned, and the sunset promised to be spectacular. It was definitely time for a detour.

After several false starts, a few dead ends and a jaunt across a neighbor's orchard road, we came out at a tiny little "pocket" park, perched atop the bluffs above Lake Michigan, with a long downward trailing series of wooden steps, ending in a deserted beach.

We were hooked.

Plans went out the window, hunger took a backseat, and we settled in to watch one of the most spectacular shows God has ever invited us to.

And it wouldn't have happened if we hadn't taken a wrong right turn.

**********

Writers take detours all the time.

Your first draft is the place where you allow your fancies to fly freely, knowing that you can always edit out the most egregious parts. You allow yourself to go places where you aren't entirely sure you belong.

You get off the interstate. You take the road less traveled. You explore the detours, because you never know what you will find.

And what you find in your wanderings often surpasses the original plan. This spontaneity is what breathes life into the words, and causes a reader to catch her breath and go,

"Ooh! never thought of it that way..."

But implicit in this process is the need for openess on the writere's part and a willingness to make mistakes. A first draft can only be free, if it is followed by a second. And a third. And a fourth.

And so on...and so on...and so on...

By the time you submit a manuscript for publication, it is often on its 30th (or better) iteration.

So, writers learn to let go of a lot of their "best" work, as it winds up on the cutting room floor.

Right alongside the ego.

**********

We often hold onto things that no longer belong in our lives, whether they be outgrown clothes, bad habits, harmful ideas, or dead end jobs. One of the hardest things to embrace is change.

And yet, change is the unwavering and only constant in our lives.

It took me three years of therapy to embrace change.

And it is a good thing I did, because this week saw a lot of iterations.

I went off-road with Magic Carpet last week. I took wrong turns. I jounced along foreign lanes. I let the tide carry me to distant shores.

I designed my own lace pattern for the first time.

And all because eight doesn't divide into nineteen evenly.

Remember this?

It is the transition between the 19 stitch palmetto leaf pattern and the 8 stitch chevron.

More precisely, it WAS the transition between the 19 stitch palmetto leaf pattern and the 8 stitch chevron.

Because I just wasn't happy with it. The motifs formed by my midnight meanderings across the graph paper were too large. They were out of scale with the delicacy of the lace.

So I took what I learned, I ripped back, and started over...

And over...

And over...

And over...

In all, I started nine times, before I finished with...

Something I was proud of.

Something that made a smooth transition between and looked like a natural continuation of: both patterns.

Something that reduced my stitch count and looked like it belonged.

Something that was worthy of the project.

Something that lived up to her "big sister's" beauty.

You could say I conducted my own tutorial in lace design last week. Each time I surveyed the ten to twenty rows involved, I saw things I liked. I also saw things I didn't.

Each time I returned to the drawing board ( or the laptop, to be accurate) I took what I learned and made it better.

Until the final iteration, when I couldn't find anything that displeased my eye.



The carpet flies...





The palmetto pattern slides effortlessly into ...







a radiant sunburst that echoes the diagonal lines of the stems; the diamonds mirror the shape of the leaves, and...






offsetting the chevron pattern provides a different look to the pattern while segueing nicely into...








the conventional vertical line of the plain chevron pattern.


Give 'er thirty or forty more rows and she''ll be ready to block. Sometime tomorrow, I'm guessing.

Ten iterations...

Nine rough drafts...

One finished design...

And one satisfied (if worn out) designer.

Kits are available at a presale price of $30 here.