Finally, a finished object that I can be somewhat happy with . . . and it isn't even for me! A co-worker of mine was due on October 2nd with her first baby and she finished out the week looking every bit as cute and pregnant as ever. Lola, honestly, she is in the running for the cutest looking pregnancy ever (I think you'll still win since you're my sister). Anyway, here is the sweater knit for her soon-to-be-born son. Hopefully he can wear it in March and be nice and warm. Specs are in the finished album.
While knitting the neckband, I thought there might be some errata for the pattern because it just didn't make sense to me so I looked it up. Nothing. When I told the Flyer what I was doing, he says (with only a slight German/Dr. Strangelove accent), "Don't you know that Cat Bordhi doesn't make mistakes. You infidel! Very soon a mailer will arrive on the doorstep demanding that you mail the book back and you'll never knit a pair of socks from it." Two things become quite apparent (well, three): I was quite obsessive over "the book" and I finally got it in the mail. The third one? He wasn't listening when I said Debbie Bliss . . . and there wasn't any errata on the pattern, just a craptacular knitter without her morning Starbucks.
The book. What can I say other than "Wow!" If I say more, I might die of fright. Some of the patterns will take some getting used to, but I think that I am going to dive head into it. Then again, with five babies due before March 25, I might as well make a "learning sock" or two. Some of the patterns are a bit too twee for me, and while I love different styles, some seem different for the sake of being different. I was planning on using the Tofutsies to make a pair of Sarah's Synesthesia socks (three times fast now), but I might give in and try a coriolis architecture socks. What to do, what to do.
Ariann, sadly, had been relegated to the back burner, not because she isn't lovely and beautiful and giving and just utterly wonderful but because I need to get Baby J's sweater finished. Now that it is done, I am hoping to pick up our gal Ariann and knit on her. The color is divine (a real cherry red for my inner diva) and I am actually liking Cascade 220. Who knew? No comments from you on this one, Trish, because I know damn well where to get more.
So, what do you do when you pick up the phone at 6:30 PM and hear your father telling you that he is about 120 miles away from your house on his way to Boston to pick up the Bro who quit his job (remember, he's getting married soon, ladies and gentlemen . . . okay, Steve and Mike)? Do you say, "Be careful driving through Wilkes Barre," and go back to your knitting? Or do you say, "Don't be silly getting a hotel room. I don't get to see you that often because you live in Ohio. Come stay with us," and then in a panic throw all sorts of crap onto the dining room table and run out to the grocery store to buy his favorite ice cream and snacks (the kind Mom forbids in their house) and have the girls clean like lunatics. Yup, we opted for the second choice and spent a lovely two and a half hours with Daddy. Nothing controversial was brought up, Lola, so that was a relief. I scrubbed the computer of all mention of the blog (parents still in the dark) for nothing as the visit was too brief. After a quick stop at Starbucks, Daddy was on his way to Boston to extract the Bro (and hopefully talk some sense into his thick skull about the wedding date).
Off to knit some socks and still looking for normalcy . . . something tells me this is it. I can deal.