Well, I want it to be known that I am in the process of overcoming some of my fears and inhibitions. I joined Mystery Stole 3 in order to have someone(s) hold my hand while I work my way through my first large-scale lace knitting project. Melanie, the kind and yet brilliant designer of this and other Mystery Stoles, as well as some other killer lace and sock designs, can be found at Pink Lemon Twist
I did my obligatory swatching. In fact, I did several swatches on several sizes of needles, trying to decide which looked best. I then aggravated the crap out of my friends (those with email access anyway) by emailing them numerous photos of said swatches and repeatedly asking which looked better?
Yes, not only did I not rotate them so they could look at them easier, I bugged them to death to about exactly why they thought what they did when they gave me an answer. Finally, Eileen send me an email mentioning something about feeling she was in the optometrist's office, being asked, A or B? click. Now, B or A? click. So I just went with the size 3 needles and quit the procrastinating which was really an attempt to camouflage my fear of beginning.
Progress so far:
Yes, it is very yellow and I never wear yellow. And it's kinda blurry. My daughter got all the photography skills in this family. Hey, Kel, I'll send you the next one to edit before I post it. I am still bemused by the yellow. It's kind of like this strange compulsion has come over me and demanded first of all that I buy the yellow lace weight from Black Bunny Fibers
And then it's making me knit it. Yet I look like someone with a horrible case of jaundice when I wear yellow. This should turn out interesting, eh?
I am now on Clue 2, around row 280, forgive my forgetting the exact row, Harry Potter arrived on Saturday and I took an HP break. After staying up and reading HP for 7 straight hours, I was rather fatigued when I discovered it was 4 am Sunday morning and needless to say, there hasn't been any further lace knitting while I wait for my brain to recover from Potter-induced fog. I have worked diligently on the Merry sweater for Bridget and kitchenered the shoulders together last night. Now I have to work out the best way to do the sleeves, which, of course, will involve ignoring the very competent, if somewhat skimpy, instructions of Elsebeth Lavold, the designer. I do want to throw in a plug for the Hempathy yarn I'm using for this. I love the stuff and think Bridget will, too. The child tends to run toward the warm side, even in the most freezing weather, and this will keep her from looking like the sweaty little girl she turns into when bundled up in regular winter wear.
The Brown Dog apologizes for having me stand in and do his first post for him. He had a trip to the vet yesterday for shots and stocking up on flea preventives and heartworm meds and is still rather shaken about the whole ordeal. Personally, I am still trying to get all the hair he shed off me. It's just really too bad he's so short-haired I can't spin the stuff. I'd never have to be roving again. He does say hi, however, and wanted a photo included, too, since he wanted to prove he's not always snarling or seeming to do so:
That's his pathetic look. He has this delusion that it'll get him chicken jerky.
On the roving/spinning side of things, I have progressed to my fourth roving being spun up now. Compare the first yarn, the white, in case you can't guess from all the lumpy bumpiness, to the purple, which was traded away for some very nice alpaca to practice on:
To follow this week, I have to finish the finishing details on my first weaving, a learning sampler. All I need to do is sew the top down over the dowel and trim the fringe but that involves sewing. I may do all these other fiber arts but I frankly hate sewing, even a button. But I have to have it done for Wednesday night's weaving. And somehow, we have to wrestle the Big Dog, Nuisance, and the 2 cats, Sylvester and Ollie, who thinks he's Evil Incarnate Walking the Earth (I am not arguing this point either) into carriers and take them to the vet for their shots. Let the vet worry about getting Ollie back into the carrier if they're foolish enough to take him completely out. We're still scarred from the last time we did this.