The long walk

A while ago we went on a walk down the beach. Since I have no knitting to show you, and I'm going away in the morning on a long weekend to Canberra, I thought I'd show you what it's like here in the dead of winter.
And on that note, I bid you bon nuit.

It's a poltergoost

See this little tiny ball of pink yarn? Isn't it pretty? Isn't it shiny? Wouldn't it make a lovely little lace shawl?

Yes I thought so too.

However, it has come to my attention that this little ball of yarn is possessed.

A few months ago I made a mini clapotis in this yarn. I wore it and wore it and wore it. It was my favourite scarf.

It got felted in the washing machine. I thought it was my mistake.

This week I have knitted, tinked, ripped back, knitted, tinked, ripped back over and over and over again trying to make this yarn into this.



I would get about fifty rows into it and whenever I put it down it would do a little genie dance and move yarnovers, lose stitches and pretty soon it would be FUBAR.

It took me about twenty attempts to give up. Still I blamed myself.

I was relatively undeterred. I cast on and made a fair bit of progress on this:



The same thing happened every time I put it down. I ploughed on, tink, knit, rip.

I give up. This pink froth has defeated me.

And that is why I have nothing to show for myself. I've been knitting all over the place, but in the end this yarn just wants to stay in a ball. Straight to the naughty cupboard, I'm going to try again with my leftover Kaalund Expressions.

I'll come back and deal with you later little ball of pink evil.

Other people's things

I haven't got anything to show for myself. We're going away for the weekend to Canberra.

The tunic top is still on the table where I photographed it.

But I have been looking, looking, looking.

I like these things today:

This blog

This post

The Apron

I know the girl who designed this beautiful wrap cardigan. I wish I had a knitting machine.

I want to make this shawl.

And once again, all hail Rowan.

I promise to knit when I am away. And when I return there will be photos.

Book them and they will come

How about that? Not ten minutes after whining about the shortcomings in my blog admin, Rox cometh to the rescue and emails me three buttons.

Thank you Rox, what a fine person you are.

I'm off to snb now, wondering what to take to knit. Sifting through wip's. I really should finish husband's second sock.....

Cleaning up my act

I really have to do something about my blog housekeeping. A little like my house housekeeping, it is a bit hit and miss.

I would like a button. And a good template. And a sidebar album showing my finished projects (but that would be empty). And a wip sidebar list. And a desired object sidebar list. I should probably put the buttons for the things I'm participating in during the event, not months after they have finished.

I have a great idea! Instead of doing these things, why don't I write a blog post whining about it? Now that really would be a productive use of my time.

I also just noticed something else too. All my sentences are the same length. Must be annoying for you to read. Please accept my humble apologies.

Seamed like a good idea at the time.

So I've been working on this top. I've been really careful about this top, took me ages to choose the right yarn and ages to choose the pattern. I have been knitting it for weeks.

When I went to set the sleeve in, suprise suprise the size of the armhole bore no resemblance whatsoever to the size of the sleeve cap. So, I added a few more rows to the armhole. And a few more. And a few more. Finally managed to fashion an armhole the same size as the sleeve cap. Now the problem is that the armhole and sleeve I have bear no resemblance to the pattern. And I followed the pattern. I did!

I tinkered with the shoulder seam, three needle bind-off no good, matress stitch no good, finally going with the kitchener stitch. But my kitchener stitch is not so good so it took me about four attempts to get it right.

I was being very very careful because I really do want to actually wear this top and I know I won't if it looks like a dodgy handknitted sack.

Oh the seaming nearly sent me over the edge. It turned out so-so, some pressing and blocking should smooth it out ok.

Anyway, got the sleeve in. Tried the top on.

Foul foul foul. Nasty nasty nasty. Yuk Yuk Yuk. The sleeve falls off shoulder, and it is too long, too wide. The whole thing is too bulky.

I read it the last rites while I took some photos. Next time you see it, it will be in balls in the dark cupboard under the stairs where it belongs. Impudent strumpet.

I think it will reincarnate itself into soleil instead. So, Sharon you may have a knitting buddy when you start your soleil - there's no effing sleeves in that is there?

I'm going to buy a tunic top instead. But first I need a long hot bath.

So if you see me today - we shall not speak of it.

On a totally different note, are any of you familiar with the 'barbie and the magic of pegasus' business? If you're not then I dearly wish I was you.

I tell you no lies that daughter of mine is going to burn out my brain stem if she keeps at me the way she has been about getting this overrated piece of plastic. Today mummy. I've been good mummy. Please mummy. It's not fair mummy. You don't love me mummy. And the classic "I'll cut up your knitting with my craft scissors" (said with a sideways glance of fear - she knows she's really pushing the boundaries here). For once I had the satisfaction of saying "Go ahead. Cut up the knitting, this top's driving me up the wall anyway".

I made the mistake of telling her if she learned how to write her name properly and did it 10 times on her own we would think about it. Far out she's a fast learner! Either that or she already knew perfectly well how to write her name and was waiting for this opportunity to milk something out of me before she disclosed her ability to me. I had to change the rules and include the address and phone number.

If she finishes that I'm giving her the phonebook. "If you can copy out the first 10 pages of this book I will buy you the pegasus toy".

the sp6 questionnaire

Hello there my sp6 if you're lurking about here.

The questionnaire is very long. I have it somewhere in the archives. Oh all right, I'll go and find it and link it...........(some time later)...there you go.

Any changes? Not really, except that it's coming into summer. And I haven't finished hardly anything I started since then. I'm more into lace than ever before and am about to start on the mystery shawlalong 2.

If the truth be known I'm more into the SP thing for the cultural exchange than the actual gifts, so as long as we can get to know each other and have fun I'm happy.

I have a size 8 foot, about 27 cm long but very wide like ships and normal ankles. I hate my feet.

I'm a survivor survivor

Now that Big Brother is finished and desperate housewives, lost and house became unwatchable - all hail the return of Survivor!!

Stuff I noticed about Survivor

Why?
Stephanie and Bobbi John back in the game. Why, why, why???

Jeff you tricker!
11 mile hike to race for flint and a better camp - the boys practically killed themselves doing it and what did Jeff do?

He gave some flint to the other team the next day anyway. So, either way, both teams were going to have fire by day 2.

Sucked in you competitive alpha males heaving on hands and knees.

Sad and neglected has been
A poor old ex-nbl player had to 'lie' about being a landscaper. Went a bit like this:

Big tall man and little 55kg sexpot are walking through the jungle.

Little 55kg sexpot simpers "what do you do for a living big tall man?"

Big tall man "I run my own little landscaping business. No, really, I do. HEY YOU up ahead - 64, 25, 33 Hup - oh sorry I got carried away. Where was I? Oh yes, a landscaping business. Can we switch sides at half time in this game? I absolutely was never involved in the nbl, no siree, what makes you say I was? Landscaping. Grass. Fountains. Backyards."

Little 55kg sexpot (attention span drifted away at the "landscaping" - too many syllables), "oh, um, fantastic."

Farmer boy eats Bobbi John - a survivor first

Oh my god. Did you see how ruthless that farmer boy is? Straight off the bat "Bobbi John is stoopid". "What's so special about Bobbi John?" "Where's the big strong Bobbi John now huh? Laid out on his back with his eyes rolling back in his head with a girly cramp in his leg"

I swear that Farmer boy is sitting there thinking ......... Now if I run out of protein I'm eating Bobbi John first.

I'm a lumberjack and I'm ok
Proving that the nbl breeds em smart, ex nbl hasbeen who is not wanting to draw attention to himself save someone recognise him from his FAMOUS PAST, takes CHARGE!!

Mousy bloodnut in the background who is a WILDERNESS GUIDE sits back. "the first person to take lead in survivor always gets voted off first, so I'm keeping my occupation a secret for a little while longer. I know we're going the wrong way, but I won't tell them.

We don't need the stupid flint either, I can start fire from the glint of freshly bleached teeth in bright sunlight. And my hair is a deterrent to spiders, crocodiles and snakes. Oh, and women too."

How pissed of are that team going to be when they find out the secret of the bloodnut's past??? But in order to find out, someone is going to need to have a conversation with him, and so far his personality is pretty much his immunity against that every happening.


My predictions
Lucky for BJ (unfortunate initials) the old guy popped his bicep, otherwise he would have been the first one out.

Lucky also for BJ, the guy who got the branch in his shoulder looks like he's in pretty bad shape, so he'll probably go next if the lose the immunity.

BJ will by then have endeared himself to the tribe and will be safe until the farmer boy eats him.

BJ will not be in this game in 4 weeks time.

My secret pal 5

On Friday I was able to solve the mystery of who my sp5 could be. I received my final package in the mail - it had been detained in quarantine. I notice a few of the Australian parcels had been subject to this, they must be having a crackdown. Her name is Dani, and you can find her here.

She sent me two 220m hanks of Araucana Nature Wool in a steely blue and dusty pink. They are going to felt wonderfully, and are just the thing for any of the projects in the pursenalities book she sent me. Also, just so I wouldn't forget her, she sent me a knitting pattern a day desk calendar. And a knitters universe fall magazine. And some candy. And two little diy crafty kits for frudge magnets and little rockets. AND two packets of knitting notecards.

I have been blown away by the generosity of my sp5. I am still drooling over the alpaca cloud - and after the clapotis have enough left to make a very large lace scarf or even a stole perhaps. The dye your own which ended up the fuschia/pink cardigan for Lisa's baby has led to as many oohs and aahs as the baby itself. The Kureyon is the first time I have ever owned any of the iconic Noro. The big tote bag is a permanent fixture at my feet at snb and most nights on the sofa. The books are on the library shelf and have been well thumbed. I've used the snb knitters handbook like a million times. Now I've got the felted bag book, the desk calendar, even more fantastic yarn. Not to mention the great comments on my blog.

But you know what? She saved the best bit till last. Finding out who she was and reading her blog was a real treat. She lives in Long Island and we have quite a bit in common - I would say we're of the same tribe.

Thank you Dani, you have been absolutely the best secret pal, and thanks too to sp5 for forging friendships across the globe.

Praise the knitting.

Here's what happened at the reunion

OK so lunch ended up being a small affair. That's me on the left, Mary, Sheridan and Monica. We had way too much to drink. Isn't it a gorgeous day? We sat and watched the waves roll in and talked a load of bollocks until late in the afternoon when the waitress suggested we may be more comfortable 'elsewhere'. I was in bed by 8:30pm. And in case you aren't aware, I am a chronic insomniac and rarely go to bed before 1:00am.

Mary has a job that requires her to carry a gun. She is very senior and very successful, one of the youngest to have acheived such a high rank in her field. She has three children under 10 and has recently-ish become single again after 10 years of marriage. She is in great shape and has a belly button ring and another one somewhere else. She can be scary outrageous when she wants to be but was very demure on this day.

Sheridan is a great friend who lives in Brisbane. I only see her occassionally but I always love her company. She rivals me in the gift of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time but she is such a gregarious, warm spirit everyone immediately forgives her. She came up with a great idea for our 40th's - pick a month and all go away together to Fiji or somewhere (presumably depending on budgets) in 2007 - the year of the 40th. Gee when I say it like that it seems like a long way off, doesn't it? She has four children, all daughters and the youngest is only 20 months old.

Monica is a great friend, a big talker and great support person. She loves the phone. She has one son who is 10 years old. Her husband did something tragic about 8 years ago which impacted on her in a very profound way, made her very lonely and also caused her son to be an only child who will never know his father. In spite of this she has a fighting spirit and is now in a very happy relationship with a pretty solid bloke (I introduced them!!).

We didn't eat much and worked our way through many bottles of wine. Top result.

Saturday night was much the same, though for the first time in my life I alternated wine with water. What a great idea!! Did a lot of catching up with old friends and girls I haven't seen since school.

Some interesting things about some interesting girls from our year:

I think many of us look better now at 37 than we did at 17. Those 80's were a shocker weren't they??

The headmistress nun from our early years is still a headmistress, but SHE IS NO LONGER A NUN!!! I wish I could sling some dirt on this story but that's all I know.

We are a fab bunch of breeders. Most prolific went to the girl pregnant with her 5th child. Plenty of 4's and 3 was the most common number. Oldest child - 15 years. Youngest child - 10 weeks, not counting the pregnant ones.

One girl sent her apologies from London. Others had moved to Italy.

Many girls just couldn't resist more uniforms with plenty of nurses and ambulance officers and at least one policewoman.

One famous (ish) journalist. She writes the gossip column for the Sun Herald in Sydney. I had not seen her since school and really enjoyed my chat with her - we promised to keep in touch via email.

Everyone was asking a certain girl whether she did or did not have a physical relationship with a certain teacher. Judging by her reaction my guess is she did. It's weird because although this sounds really really bad and certainly even then was a sackable offence, he was probably 22 (and inexperienced) and she was 17 (and inexperienced also) - it didn't seem like that big a deal at the time. Although I don't suppose I would feel the same if this girl was my daughter and not my friend. Anyway, moving on...

After what I put myself through it was a bit of an anticlimax actually. I wish I had more juicy bits to tell you but as there were no boys then there were no shenanigans and only lots of wine and gossip.

But we won't ever get those 20 years back again will we? That is the tragic part, so in a way to talk about those magical days of school and to look at old photographs collectively was a really cool thing to do in a share the love kind of way.

I still couldn't talk to anyone about knitting. Shame.

I forgot a bit yesterday

BUT, after six champagnes I shall be convinced that I am in fact ACTUALLY BETTER LOOKING than Sienna Miller and have the voice of the next Australian Idol and am likely to give a solo rendition of something embarrassing from the eighties and perhaps even show off my belly dancing skills and generally become the life of my own party. Wouldn't be the first time. Oh, and I'll be really looking for more champagne then.

GEEZ. Why did I say I was going?

Anyway I'm ready. Just checking the emails before I go, thanks for the kind words. Maybe I'll take a photo or two.

I can feel that evil twin taking over even as we speak. Wish me luck. Love you guys.
x

Time flies

This is a tough post to write.

This weekend is my twenty year high school reunion. Twenty years since we tripped out of Saint Mary's College with nothing but boys and partying on our minds (well on my mind anyway. I guess some of the girls had one eye on becoming doctors and lawyers but not me.)

Tomorrow a small group are having lunch at a beachside restaurant and on Saturday night we're having dinner in another local restaurant. I have been worrying incessantly about the important things - what in god's name will I wear?

When I first heard about the do I thought of two looks. The lunch I wanted a Sienna Miller type of look. The dinner I just wanted to look filthy rich. Since I am neither I procrastinated on the clothes shopping until tonight - the night before.

The dinner is not so much of a problem, I've only got one decent dress, but it's a great wrappy thing in a suitably serious colour (but not ubiquitous black) and plenty of chunky jewellery (and an impressive postbox) to pass myself off as being fashionable without being mutton. The dinner's okay too because being night time it's perfectly normal to slap on plenty of makeup and do something with the hair because it's reasonably expected that one would go to some effort for an evening event.

But the lunch. Hmmm, that poses a bigger problem. Since I did not lose the 15kg I deem necessary to ensure ultimate happiness, I am miserable. Lunch by the beach calls for a casual outfit which says "I'm pretty relaxed, but I always look this fabulous. I threw these peices together and they look fantastic because I am cool, stylish and confident". It is imperative that the look NOT say "I was so terrified of seeing you after all these years with so little to show for myself that I had to have gel nails and spray tan applied yesterday and the outfit is a torturously matchy matchy ensemble from one of the local cheap knockoff shops."

Wardrobe check revealed I only own track suits. I throw them on in the mild hope I look sporty when I drop Louis at school every day. How did it come to this? Twenty years ago I didn't own a tracksuit, preferring sadly the g-string leotard over short leggings and a ballet wrap to go to aerobics and step classes.

So what did I do? I got my hair bleached. I resisted the spray tan and the nails, although they wouldn't have been out of the question had the budget have allowed. I bought an ensemble from the local cheap knockoff shop. You won't guess what it's made of. Linen. What the freaking hell was I thinking? Linen! WHITE LINEN. Now I fully realise there are many women who wear linen all the time who are pretty relaxed and always look that fabulous. But I am not one of them. Being short, linen just creases up on me around the middle and makes me look like a birch broom in a fit.

But the IDEA of the linen trouser outfit sucked me in, and made me delude myself for a few minutes that I might look cool and collected in wide white linen pants and a billowy white linen shirt with a few white beaded swirls on it. I got a brown tribal necklace and some brown tribal sort of wedge sandals. And a new brown handbag. Sounds too matchy matchy to you? Yeah me too. But that's the outfit I'm wearing tomorrow to lunch. I won't be able to eat for fear of slopping sauce on the white linen. I will have an orange ring from foundation around the collar of said white linen shirt. After three champagnes I will start to get a bit crumpled and if it's hot then I will be a bit red in the face. The humidity will frizz my newly bleached tresses and little curly bits will emerge around the temples of the poker straight blowdry. Presumably there will be some lipstick bleed and that cranky wrinkle I have in the middle of my forehead will be deepened by the laughter and the foundation will sit in the furrow just so.

Lucky I have sunglasses with lenses the size of small planets.

And of course all those other bitches will have more to show for themselves after 20 years than me. Except I'll be the fattest.

I don't even know why I'm going really.

Any one know of any ways to lose 15kg overnight??

THERE WILL BE NO PHOTOS.

Blog Spam

I'm getting spammed on my blog occassionally. Whilst I am not happy to keep these comments on for all to see I think it is a bit of an initiation experience. Presumably there's been enough traffic on my blog to warrant some idiot to post a spam comment.

and now for something completely different

Knitting! And Yarn!

I have been busy knitting since finishing the mystery shawl. I wanted an empire-line tunic top/dress thing to wear for summer. I wanted to be able to wear it over capris so I could do the school run but it had to be long enough to slip on alone for those times when I need to dash from the sand to the shop to buy calippos. And I assure you my friends, no-one needs to see me do that in a swimsuit only.

So I scoured my pattern books. Scratch that, total lie. I scoured Donni's pattern books, found something similar in the Summer Rebecca (no 29 - it's on the cover - the girl is wearing a paper hat). Now to find a yarn suitable. Had to have drape. Had to have a bit of sheen, but no sparkle for I don't do sparkle unless it is beads. Had to be soft and light for summer. Praise you Ebay! Got a right bargain on 21 balls of this cotton.
Shiny, drapey, nice colour. And the folded pressed knitting in the top photo is one sleeve and one back of the finished tunic. I did have two sleeves but they looked nothing like each other so I ripped one back. It was then that I remembered why I hate making anything with more than one piece.

Did I mention that I won a competition? Donna of Random knits held a competition to name the monkey. I won the monkey naming competition! Anyway, she of great stash sent me a prize. A hank of Artisan Lace. Oh and it is the most adorable thing. From a merchandising point of view it is hard to present hanks as they always look messy. But Margaret Stowe has used her info band as a joining tool and makes the hank look like a little braided nest. (Shut up Ailsa - the detail is killing them). Did you also know that Donna has enough sock yarn in her stash to make about 70 pairs of socks? Check out her blog archives for when she flashed her stash.

I had originally considered making the tunic in the silk I recently purchased from the Wool Peddler. It's called Avalanche and is a single silk strand slightly thinner than Lion and Lamb and made to dye at home. I thought I better have a practice run before I went and wrecked $100 USD of yarn. But I'll show you the yarn anyway.I got 5 hanks of it. I think I'll make Annie Modesitt's silk corset from it.

Recently I also found on ebay a bargain on some Lana Grossa 50/50 wool/cotton. It worked out less than $2.50 a ball for this stuff. Unfortunately the colour isn't as nice as it looked in the picture. I don't know what I'm going to do with it.

And then yesterday I went to Miranda Westfeild and got a bargain on some Twilley's denim Freedom. This will make a nice tshirt style knit top or even a crochet throwover (we do not say poncho) for summer. I got 5 balls of this at $3 a ball.

So here's a shot of it all together.

Now dear husband if you're reading this, you might think this is a lot of yarn to accumulate. But if you think this is just a normal part of one's knitting life, I would appreciate a comment here so I can use it as evidence that my yarn buying is not excessive. Thanks guys.

Where are my blogrolls?

Does anyone know if anything has happened to blogrolling? All my blogrolls have disappeared.

Bugger.

Here we go again

Two tragedies today: the natural disaster in New Orleans. I will say a prayer tonight for all the homeless and again wonder at the power of nature - pure and magnificent when strewn on flowers and landscapes and yet so cruel and unyeilding in natural disasters. God bless you all and may you find the aid you need very very soon.

How come the poor get such a bum deal? I watched the news today about this on a couple of channels. What an eye opener. America is such a rich and prosperous and free nation. I'm sorry to say this but those poor bastards didn't look that free to me (even before the storm I mean). One statistic said that one of the hardest hit neighbourhoods had 25% of the population living under the poverty line. So, not only has society left them behind, nature has come along and kicked them while they're down.

This post is a bit confused - my point is this: the hurricane was awful.

Tragedy 2: Baghdad: At least 965 people were confirmed to have died on Wednesday when thousands of Shi'ite pilgrims taking part in a religious festival rushed for imagined safety on to a bridge across the Tigris in Baghdad, only to die in the river below or be crushed on the roadway.

Somebody created a rumour that there was a suicide bomber in the crowd and they just stampeded, mowing down anyone in their way. Unfortunately, many of these were women and children.

Not a good day.