I Tried

"There ain't no rules around here, we're trying to accomplish something."

-Thomas Edison

There used to be this commercial for Lay's potato chips.

"No one can eat just one."

In my brief but fruitful career as a designer, I have discovered the truth of this advertising maxim.

"No one can knit just one."

I knit multiples at the same time. Doesn't everybody?

My knitting basket is a little like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get. And to carry the chocolate analogy a bit further (and who doesn't want MORE chocolate?) it often resembles a picked over box of candy, with one bite taken out of lots of different projects and few completely consumed. (Coconut - YUMM! Nougat - GROSS!)

Many fans of Sherwood and Drizzle have contacted me recently, fearing for the health and welfare of these long-neglected children. Fear not, they are in the hopper for the fall. I am knitting as fast as I can.

I am an intuitive knitter. I allow my muse to lead, determining my path. Sometimes the path is smooth. Sometimes it is bumpy. Sometimes it leads to places I never expected.

That is what happened with Zinnia.

She was a simple little knit with one central petal motif, repeated over and over in ever widening circles until the edge, whereupon the final petals would be added and cast off individual.ly. She was a one-trick pony. And a one skein project.

Now I tried to keep her simple. I really did. Honest. I tried to reign her in and confine her to one skein.

But this simple petal motif:






turned into this small leaf motif.






Then four of them merged into this large center leaf:






And surrounded themselves with other leaves...






Which needed some filler in between them, to finish things off.









And before you knew it...

Zinnia was a three or four trick pony. And a two skein project.

Sigh...

Here's another metaphor from one of Baby Boy's favorite childhood reads, for those of you with little ones around:

If you give a mouse a cookie...

A mouse muse can be a terribly demanding mistress, a hard task master,



but she sure does know what she's doing...

Breaking Up

Don't take your love away from me
Don't you leave my heart in misery
If you go, then I'll be blue
Cause breakin' up is hard to do...

- The Carpenters

You know, one of two things is gonna happen when you sequester two lovers in a small cabin in the great north woods of Michigan for five days.

They will either bond, or they will drive each other crazy.

All too often, when we are in close proximity for too long, we begin to notice all the things we don't like about our companion. Their annoying habit of drumming their fingers on the table top. The endless throat clearing. The way they leave the cap off the toothpaste tube.

The way their directions are so difficult you can't make it four rows without making a mistake.

It's official.

Drizzle and I are on the rocks.

The love is gone.

Trashed by the scattershot nature of the original design.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning...

SIGH...

I originally designed Drizzle to be asymmetrical, slightly off-kilter

(sort of like me!)

The only problem was, I couldn't make it more than about 4 rows without making a mistake.

And I KNOW what it is supposed to look like.

The first few times, I told myself it didn't matter. Since it was disorderly anyway, what was one missed bead or misplaced stitch? It would just add to the charm, right?

By the 40th time, I was forced to admit:

It wasn't working for me. It was too random and unfettered. It needed (gasp) structure.

What seemed whimsical at the end of the shawl degraded into chaos by the center section.

(Those who know me are now chortling gleefully. I am known for my fly by the seat of my pants bravado and spur of the moment freedom.)

That's shorthand for disorganization, folks.

Back to the drawing board computer and three hours later, Drizzle emerged leaner, more streamlined, and more predictable to knit.

BUT

the beaded lines fall in different places. Totally different places. Have to frog the whole blessed thing places.

Oh, the agony!

A solid month of labor and 500 plus yards of linguine to show for it.

I didn't take a picture. I didn't have the heart. It's too tragic when someone you love...

goes bad.

Needless to say, Drizzle will be a little late arriving.

On a brighter note, Crocus Pocus goes on sale tomorrow. And Iris is looking ab-so-f**kin-lute-ly (to quote Big on Sex and the City) one hundred percent, no doubt about it, show stopping, guaranteed...

gorgeous.

Now THAT is worthy of pictures, folks! And I have them in all their Technicolor glory.

But you'll have to wait until a suitable mourning period has passed.

I figure a day oughta do it...

After all, Drizzle hasn't really died, she's just gone on to a better place.

The south Drizzle will rise again!

You're Never Too Old...

"Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions."
-Pablo Picasso

What did you do today, little girl?

Well, AFTER I spent all morning fixing a PayPal problem (if you ordered from me at the old address and have not received your pattern, please contact me. I retrieved all but one.

(Email address change complications - OY!)

I colored...

Ain't it purty?

This is the initial chart work for Iris, the next design in the Garden Variety Collection.






And it will look even better, done up in Mermaid Sea Silk, a lovely purple, bronze, and olive green blend.

I know it looks blue, but it's not...

In other news, Crocus Pocus is nearing completion. Should get onto the blocking boards yet tonight. Finished pics on Monday.

Drizzle (oh yeah! That one) is also coming along...

Although I gotta tell ya, working on drizzle on a gorgeous spring day is less than inspiring...

Dare I think Spring is finally here?



Must make time for a pedicure...

See how I neglect myself for you people?

Ugly, I tell ya...

Silver and Gold

Silver and gold, silver and gold

Everyone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.

These days I have the best of both worlds:

Drizzle & Moroccan Days
Shadow and Light
Rain and Sunshine
Silver and Gold

Both are beautiful in their own way.

Both are an integral part of life.

I remember a funeral I once attended. The deceased was a photographer and died fairly young, leaving behind a grieving husband, a daughter, and one tiny grandchild.

The presiding minister observed during the eulogy that photographers never take pictures at high noon. Why?

Because, at that hour, there is no shadow, and without the shadow, the subject of the photo loses its definition.

I am enjoying both my creations this winter, and taking to heart what they have to teach me about this "bleak midwinter." I love the bright, clear days (like today.) Who wouldn't?

But at the same time, I am learning to embrace the darker days, the twilight days, the days when snow falls, swift and silent, even the days when Indiana serves up a cold, steady rain. And there are many such days.

Many, many such days. SIGH...

I may dream of sunny Morocco (or even Florida. I'm not picky.)
But I try to be present in the moment.

Even if the moment happens to be dreary.

I might even head outside to take pictures. I might NOT know enough to come in out of the rain.

And a shawl pattern might evolve out of it.

Drizzle is coming along swimmingly (How's that for a nice WET adverb?)

I have temporarily stopped work on Drizzle for the most part, in order to concentrate on knitting up Moroccan Days, writing out her pattern, working out those last little glitches before handing the pattern over to my test knitter, for the Arabian Nights version.

But that doesn't mean I have nothing to show for it!

Here are some WIP pictures, to wet whet your appetite:

Close up of Bottom border: seed stitch and open areas with floating beads.








Close up of beginning of lace patterning. See the raindrops?







Extreme close up of beading








I know this one is out of focus, but the sparkle of the beads and the soft color gradations of the yarn show to their best effect.

Now you see the raindrops, don't you?

So much for rain. What about sun?

Moroccan Days is moving along. Ran into a little glitch when I had to figure out how many repeats to do, and how to make it all come out even.

There will be another (possibly wider) repeat of the end border beaded window motif down the center of the shawl, to cascade down into a beautiful back view. So I have to reconcile 10 row repeats with 12 row repeats AND the 46 row end border. Things would have been so much simpler had I thought ahead and made the border 48 rows wide.

(Too math wonky to go into here, but trust me. I made problems for myself by not having the 12 row beaded edging pattern line up at the end of the border.)

But hey! Who doesn't love a challenge?

Right?

Right?

Anybody?

Guess this is one of those "embrace the shadow" moments.

Or, to steal a line from A League of Their Own...

"It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, anyone could do it. It’s the hard that makes it great."

Yeah, right...