Whoops

I know, I know, bad knit-blogger, no cookie for me.
I have been in something of a yarn funk lately, though.

I really need to get to work on *some*thing (re: finish off the teeny little outstanding bits on The Bear Hat), so I pulled that skein of SeaSilk which is destined for a Swallowtail Shawl for Ms. H. out of it's cage*.



Now, if I only had the needle I need...

So, a general knitting update:
- Bear Hat: So, so close.
- Swallowtail: Well, the yarn has been wound. And that *is* an essential step, is it not?



Er, that's it. Really. I think I need to start myself a fun and funky scarf for the winter (because at this pace, I'll be lucky to be done by January)

*I don't really keep my yarn in cages, or glass jars for that matter. All my skeins, balls and WIP are allowed to roam freely around the house.

Belated

So Father's Day was this past weekend, and I'd like to share a little story.


I was in the car with my father a few weeks back, we were in the lot of a gas station waiting for a space to free up at one of the self-serve pumps.
“You know how every so often you do something that you really regret, that sticks with you for longer than you would expect? The kind of thing that just comes back occasionally and you think ‘why did I ever do that?’”
I turn to my father, give a mumble of agreement.
“Mhm”.
What is my father’s deep dark secret? I was very curious. I mean, who wouldn’t be? I know that when he was about a year younger than I am now he had a motorcycle and long hair (before he met my mother). I think he also used to smoke. What sordid act could he have committed in his clearly wild and hedonistic youth that would come back to haunt him as we were sitting around a gas station?
“Well, self-serve gas pumps are really quite a recent development, you know.”
“What, really? They’ve been around as long as I can remember.”
A funny look silences me.
“There was one day when I was living in Vancouver, and a only few pumps had yet to have been set up and most people weren’t really used to them yet. It had been a really crazy day, I was running late, I just wanted to get home. As I was just finishing up at one of them when a lady pulled in to the pump behind me and called at me: ‘Excuse me, could you give me a hand with this quickly?’ As I said, I was tired and kind of impatient, and I said ‘No, sorry, I’m just on my way.’“
I turn to him.
“Really? You? No.”
I don’t feel bad about the sarcastic tone.
“It’s something that always comes back and haunts me. I really should have given her a hand, I had no real reason not to. Sometimes it’s the little things that get you.”
Now I feel bad about the sarcastic tone.

It’s moments like this that remind me that my father really is a Good Person. I don’t think I’m particularly horrid, myself. I certainly try to be polite and proper and helpful at the worst of times. But compared to that, I feel pretty low. A good family friend recently moved away to Ireland for an incredible job opportunity and my father called him ‘A real prince of a man’, a statement with which I happen to agree quite strongly, he is a truly remarkable individual, and I miss seeing him around. But above that, such a degree of compliment coming from my father means all the more in my eyes.

The Bear Hat is so close to being done that I won't bother posting any in progress photos, but rather wait until completion.

Basketcase: Continued

Ok, sorry about that last disjointed post. I did another photo shoot, which I don't love as much as the flowers in the garden (Flowerbasket shawl, come on), but shows off the shawl a bit better.

In short, I loved knitting this. For a first lace project, it turned out better than my wildest dreams. It was originally going to go to a very dear friend of mine (hence the name, it seems less appropriate now), but upon thinking, I gave it to my grandmother yesterday. She. Was. Thrilled. And she was still thrilled today when I saw her (she is old, this makes me... absolutely unbelievably happy and grinny and giddy and I feel like I couldn't have made a better decision). She used to knit, waaaaaay back in the day, and she pored over the shawl, and was duy impressed, as only a grandmother can be (and she even put it on for a while. She has been showing it to EVERYone apparently and said she is thinking about putting it up on the wall so she can show it off better. I don't know how to say any more without sounding redundant, but I just feel so incredibly good about this project now. (Heather, thank you, I owe you a shawl.)

It's no Christening Shawl but I am quite chuffed. Have some more photos. (and I apologise for the lack of a good wingspan photo, but you can extrapolate)



















I really like that last one. I'm going to go look at the myriad of photos I took and sigh happily to myself.

I have some knitting on the go, and shall update in a day or two (I promise!)

Also, thanks for the blogiversary wishes. It was my friend's birthday yesterday, so had a bit of a fun (and completely unrelated, my blog is quite unknown to most people here) celebration.

Basketcase: A(n) FO

Well. Apparently it has been been two weeks since I last posted. And it took me every day of that to finally get around to blocking.
I don't mind telling you, this step scared the beans out of me.












I'll try to get a decent full-size shot tomorrow.

Flowerbasket Shawl by Evelyn A. Clark.
It was good. But I'm tired now. It's going to go to my grandmother tomorrow when I go to visit.

Sore back is driving me crazy, can't sit still for too long. Technical details tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow, it's also my one-year blogiversary. Any celebratory suggestions?