Monday, November 28, 2016

Start Stop Start Again

The knitting has been so neutral lately, so wearable.  On Saturday (night, significantly) I snapped.  After dinner I sat down with the very lovely cowl neck pullover I've been working on, trying to finish the last few rounds of cabling so as to move on to the more distraction-friendly plain sleeves when I just lost my marbles, grabbed whatever was nearby and cast it on.  Patons Lemongrass (of course that was nearby) Patons Gold, two of my hand-dyed madder skeins, and a stray leftover ball of Mission Falls in Burgundy, for contrast.  Let me tell you, it seemed marvelous in the dark.  My boy was home for the holiday, and as he sat in the middle of the living room floor playing "Blackbird" on the guitar, I worked on these stripes, thinking how lovely it all was, how quirky and interesting the knitting looked, and stopping now and then to admire it.  It seemed very analogous.  It felt wonderful to be making something creative, and the knitting of it, serenaded, was lovely.  Patons Lemongrass, as you know, is a yarn in need of tempering, and that Patons Gold (scored on the cheap at the Fiber Festival last year) is a yarn in need of some zest.  Well! (I thought).  These two can live together in harmony, and can be good for each other--Lemongrass is the friend who drinks and smokes and drives too fast, and Gold is the friend who wants to stay home and make milkshakes while binge-watching Gilmore Girls...  
 
Doubt became certainty in the cold light of day, and I unraveled it without remorse.  Patons Gold has an appointment with my dyepot today, which can only improve it.  It needs more complexity, although whether Grape Kool-Aid can add any complexity to anything is what I am about to find out.      
 
Meanwhile, inspired by the beautiful work of Ann Wood, I went for a scrounge in the garage bins, on the hunt for these doll legs I made way back when and then stashed away when the rest of the dolls they were meant for failed to manifest.  The striped fabric came from a tattered antique quilt top, the rest of which I did not find in my bin rummage and it haunts me now.  I can't possibly have gotten rid of it, but where oh where did it land?  Anyway, these doll legs, these unfinished bits of something of my very own, please me so immeasurably.  They are the beginning of something creative.  There will be some sketching, some experiments, some play with fabric scraps, and they will, I hope--I'm sure--emerge.  Two sisters, with interesting hair and probably shawls, and these wonderful, witchy, rag doll legs.
 
 
I finished this yesterday, too, as the last of the daylight waned.  There was just no working on it after about three o'clock.  It is, of course, Alicia Paulson's Love and Joy stitch sampler, made from her PDF pattern on Belfast linen in "Rue Green," already in my stash but not quite the fabric she suggests, and pretty small.  I struggled a little with seeing the holes in the fabric, my aging eyes and their trusty bifocals were a pretty even match for the 32-count linen.  I worried that it had finally come to pass that I had got too old to do something I want to do, which made me mad enough to keep going until it was done.  Let's see if I can get it in a frame while it is still 2016.  
 
 
 
I washed fleece, unmade the beds, cut the christmas tree stump into little discs for making I don't even know what.  It feels like there is such a lot going on here, inside and out, and that is a very nice place to be.