Wake up, sleepyhead!

At long last, signs of life in the garden! We have buds on the lilacs, which will be gorgeous by Mother's Day.



A few flowerbuds on the saucer magnolia that I planted three years ago. Last year, I had one glorious bloom, and I'm hoping for more this year. The mature trees are positively vulgar with blossoms at the height of spring, but it'll take a few years before this one is anything but modest.



The rhubarb is looking weird, like some kind of tumor growing next to a pruney foot. But it'll be huge and delicious soon. I just wish it would be ready at the same time as my strawberries so I could make a strawberry-rhubarb pie. But by the time the berries are ready, the rhubarb is old and stringy. So instead, there will be rhubarb pie, then strawberry pie. (And a few weeks after that, raspberry pie!)



Last fall, I filled the garden bed around our little fountain with tulip bulbs, and they're popping up, ready to go. I never noticed before how the foliage is tinged with pink. I'm starved for color now, so perhaps my eyesight is a bit keener. (Notice the rocks. Gardening in New England is all about rocks.)



Ah, but here is the star of my garden at the moment--the moss. My picture doesn't do it justice--it is the greenest of greens, as if it were lit from within. The back and side yards are full of moss (and ferns too, a little later in the season). My next-door neighbor (who's lived in her house since the 1950s) gave me all sorts of tips and tricks for getting rid of moss when I first moved in, but I thought she was nuts. I spent decades in Texas, for Pete's sake, where everything is dry and crispy by May. Why on earth would I want to get rid of cool green moss??



And this ugly thing shows no signs of life in terms of greenery, but it's usually teeming with life all winter long. The birds love this hideous overgrown rambling rose bush. They congregate there, chasing each other from one cane to another, singing their songs and reminding me all winter long that the spring will come again. The bush itself is quite horrible--it's overgrown, half-dead in the middle, with blooms that look gorgeous for all of a week and nasty thorns that catch your clothes (and your skin) all summer long. But I love it for the birds and don't have the heart to take it out.



There is something truly delicious about these earliest days of spring. It's all potential right now. This is the year for the fattest raspberries, or the juiciest strawberries. Maybe I'll have a million magnolia blossoms on the tree, or I'll manage to actually grow tomatoes in our weird and wonderful climate. And every day, I eagerly search for new signs of life. Then seemingly all of a sudden, the spring picks up momentum and the world explodes into color and life (and weeds, of course!). I'm afraid knitting takes a bit of a backseat...

Must. Buy. This. NOW.

Oh my God. I've just discovered Hanne Falkenberg's designs. (Where have I been living? Under a rock?). And I discovered Mermaid. Beautiful Mermaid. A gazillion different colorways Mermaid. I could wear this every day. With jeans. With skirts. Dressed up. Dressed down. If I had this jacket, I'd be as thin and gorgeous as the model in the picture. I just know it.

But $250 for the kit? Ouch.

Is the pattern available elsewhere without the yarn?

Getting ready for the garden

Okay, so the snow has just barely melted and the backyard is like a bog, but I've got gardening fever! The bulbs are starting to break free of the soil, the rhubarb is pushing its cheery red stalks above ground, and soon, the weeds will take it all over! But right now I'm in fantasyland, thinking this is the year my front garden finally gets that lush English cottage look, that my magnolia tree will bear more than one blossom, and that the raspberries won't go moldy before I have a chance to pick them.

Oh, and while I was at the store picking up yet more gallons of milk (for thirsty boys!), I saw the cutest gardening tools for kids. SpongeBob and the Backyardigans--it doesn't get better than that (if you're 5 or under). Perhaps the Easter bunny could be persuaded to include them in the Easter egg hunt this year...!

He was a good friend

This is Fonzie.


He looks grumpy in nearly every picture I have of him. Not at all! Though independent, he loved people and would drool like mad when you petted him and purr as loudly as could be.

He forged a special bond with Alec, and the two usually curled up together whenever they slept.


Fonzie passed away today. He will be missed very much.

Relics of the Past

Renovations are underway at the Arlington Street station on the T, which is one of the oldest stations in the system. The other day, I saw something quite wonderful. Underneath the old walls are the original signs, made of small black-and-white mosaic tiles.






This one made me chuckle. It's a stencilled sign showing which way to go for the Arlington and Berkeley Street exits, and if you look closely underneath the names, you'll see little Victorian hands pointing the way.



Sadly, all of this is being covered over in the name of "improvement" and most certainly "economy." Other subway systems not only save their past but promote and celebrate it, but not the T. It may be the oldest subway system in the nation, but it's got a long way to go.

For my favorite example of a city celebrating its transportation history, take a visit to the London Transport Museum (now closed for renovations but expected to reopen this autumn). I last visited this marvelous place in 2001--what a treasure! They have omnibuses and train cars from the Tube and all sorts of delightful relics from the city's transportation past. I was delighted (and a little dismayed) to recognize some cars from the Tube from my first visit to London in 1984. Made me feel a little old to see things from "my time" in a historical museum!

Lest you fear that this is becoming a Boston blog instead of a knitting blog, let me reassure you that there will be some Actual Knitting Content to come very shortly. I'm starting a new sweater for my husband--I previewed the pattern way back in November, got the wool in January, and have finally started the sweater in March! I hope I will get it done in time for him to wear next fall and winter....

Cold, cold parade

St. Patrick's Day is a big deal to me. I'm not of Irish heritage (though many people have told me I look like I am), but it is my birthday. What better day to celebrate than with a bunch of people wearing green plastic hats and being of questionable sobriety?

And what fun to be in Boston, which takes the whole Irish thing pretty seriously! This year's parade was wicked cold--grey skies, a snow shower here and there, and strong winds. But there was merriment to be had!

First of all, the obligatory green silliness:




Then there were the local (and not-so-local) pipe bands. It takes a real man to wear a kilt during a Boston winter!


Though it did look painfully cold (note the grumpy faces...)


There's the expected visit by the patron saint himself...


As well as some unexpected parade participants, such as the guys from a local sheet metal union...


But despite all the fun, it got to be too cold for the little ones, so we did the "fast-forward" parade viewing by walking toward the T station in the opposite direction of the parade itself. And it all ended beautifully with a free ride on the T.

Happy St. Patrick's Day (a day late) to you all!

Let the Gardening Begin!

According to local gardening lore, St. Patrick's Day is the first day that gardening can begin here in the Boston area. Coming from Texas, that seemed really late to me (I started my Texas garden in February). And now, after nine years in New England, I still don't believe it.

Especially not this year...

cable-y goodness

Quinn is done...YUMMMMMMMM! The last time I posted about this one, I'd just finished the top band of cables:



And here's the finished bag, photographed in the weak light of a Boston late-winter day. It was so much fun to do--I love the deep texture of this pattern, worked in Rowan Yorkshire Tweed Aran yarn. I have to admit I didn't like working with the yarn--I found way too many knots (I found three in one ball of yarn!), and the yarn was so weak that it ended up breaking a few times. But the end result is beautiful!



To finish it off, I sewed a lining of brown cotton with a matching brown zipper at the top. The original pattern didn't specify a lining or closure, but I wanted to use this as a handbag rather than as a tote, so I thought a lining would make it more durable and a closure a necessary security measure. Also, the original pattern called for a three-strand braid of i-cord for the strap. I like my straps a bit wider, so I made a 5-strand i-cord braid instead. It's a little stretchier than I'd like, but it works just fine.

Happy Texas Independence Day!

So, they can take the girl out of Texas, but they can't take the Texas out of the girl....

Today is Texas Independence Day--the day in 1836 when a handful of uppity American settlers in Texas met in Washington-on-the-Brazos to tell Mexico "Adios!" and declare the Republic of Texas open for business. The experiment in independence was a resounding failure (but don't tell that to the Daughters of the Republic of Texas). By the early 1840s, the baby republic was up to its eyeballs in debt. Hostile Mexicans and Indians took their toll, and lots of Texans (who'd started off as Americans in the first place) started the drumbeat for annexation by the United States. By the end of 1845, it was all over, and Texas became the 28th state.

But hey, it's a particular point of pride that Texans can boast of having been an independent nation. Even if it was (shh) a failure. Even if it lasted only 9 years. Even if it accomplished absolutely nothing of note apart from setting aside land for primary schools and two universities...

Yee haw! Now where are my cowboy boots?

Chinese New Year in Boston

Today was the big celebration of the Chinese New Year in Boston's Chinatown, and after having lived here for 9 years, I finally managed to see it! We watched as the dragons and drummers went from business to business, stopping at each door to dance, "eat" an orange and a head of lettuce, and set off firecrackers. We didn't know the symbolism behind , so we stopped a couple of Chinese teens to ask what the significance of it all was. They couldn't tell us, so looks like I'm going to have to do a little research...

When lunchtime approached, my mouth was watering for some fabulous Chinese delicacy, but with two young kids in tow--especially Aidan, who is hardly the most adventurous eater--we had to settle for far less interesting food. Yes, that's right, in the midst of all this cultural extravaganza, we ended up eating in Chinatown's McDonald's. (I'm so embarrassed to admit this...) However, our lunch was saved from being a complete cultural wasteland by the dragons and drums, who actually came into the McDonald's for a dance. They ate the orange and lettuce (didn't set off any firecrackers, though!), and made the rounds through the place before heading back out to the streets. You don't see action like that in McDonald's very often, do you?

Anyway, here are a few pictures from our day. When I learn more about the symbolism, I'll come back and add some captions.

is it spring yet?

Sure feels like it. Okay, so it's a whopping 37 degrees Fahrenheit out there, but after last week's snow and wind and bone-chilling cold, it's starting to feel positively balmy to me.

Perhaps I've lived in New England too long.

This is the time of year when I take my encouragement when I can. What a thrill it is to leave the office at 5:00pm and still have about half an hour before the sky goes pitch black! How wonderful to see the mountains of brown ice piled along the roadways begin to melt (even though I know we'll have more snow to come before winter is over). And with February on the wane, I start to think about my garden.

Despite the fact that I've lived in the Boston area now for nearly 9 years, I still have to fight my internal gardener. No, the planting season doesn't begin in late February. No, I can't put my tomatoes in by late March. In theory, I should be able to plant peas by St Patrick's Day, though every time I've tried, they've rotted in the cold, wet soil. When I first moved here and started asking questions of my new gardening friends, I thought one of them was pulling my leg when she said it's safe to plant tomatoes by Memorial Day. What? In Texas, that's when you start to harvest tomatoes, not plant them! This would take some getting used to.

But despite the short growing season and the late start, there are some real advantages to gardening in New England. For one thing, there's spring--a real spring with daffodils and tulips and saucer magnolias and dogwoods and everything erupting into color all at once. I can't describe the rush I felt when I first discovered the magnolias on Beacon Street in Boston, how they explode with fat pink voluptuous blossoms, so many that you can hardly see the trees for the flowers. Or how about the thrill of the first blossom on the tiny saucer magnolia tree that I planted? Or the delight in seeing that the daffodils and tulips I planted in my front garden come back year after year? That may hardly seem like rocket science to most gardeners, but in Texas, if you want your bulbs to come back the next year, you have to dig them up and put them in the refrigerator for at least six weeks, to give them a "real" winter. Who has time for that?

And don't forget about the summer. Here in Boston, my garden thrives on the sunshine. My poor Texas garden limped through summer, baked bone-dry every day in the torrid sun. Not to mention the fact that the torrid sun baked me, too, which made gardening more of a chore than a delight by the time July rolled around.

Oh, but I am getting ahead of myself, aren't I? There are still two matching mountains of ice either side of my driveway. My car is grey from road salt, and I still have heavy winter gloves tucked into the pockets of my coat. Winter's still here.

But spring is on its way.

goodness to come

After a week spent in Texas, and a few days spent here in the miserable ice and snow, I vow to update the blog.

I will tell you about the wild animals we saw in Texas.

I will tell you about the three (three!) knitting projects I have going.

But not just yet. With aching muscles (from shoveling snow and ice at lunchtime!), seriously caffeine-deprived head, and Rod Stewart's "Every Picture Tells a Story" on the iPod, I must return to work. Just wanted to reassure the world that I'm still here!

More to come soon.

a (silent) poetry reading

I read about this on several blogs--first Anne's then Amelia's then Cara's then finally Deborah's. Here's my contribution, a poem I learned when I was studying French.

Il pleut il pleut
Il fait beau
Il fait du soleil
Il est si tôt
Il se fait tard
Il
Il
Il
Toujours Il
Toujours Il qui pleut et qui neige
Toujours Il qui fait du soleil
Toujours Il
Pourquoi pas Elle
Jamais Elle
Pourtant Elle aussi
Souvent se fait belle!

—Jacques Prévert

55 minutes until chocolate

We're having a big company meeting in less than an hour--one of those quarterly corporate meetings where they try to funnel three months' worth of news in about an hour to those of us in the trenches. Were it not for the food they provide as an enticement, most people would simply opt out. I know for a fact that there's going to be chocolate. I'll be there.

Yes, this is the inevitable result of my dieting attempts. The moment I decide it's time to shed the extra weight I've gained since Christmas/pregnancy/high school, all I do is think about food. Crazy, isn't it? This time, though, I'm trying to do it mostly for the health benefit (although losing a dress size or two would be a boost, too).

I've been watching Turn Back Your Body Clock on BBC America, and even though it's a cheesy-trendy reality show, it has really made me think. I've always been the eternal optimist about how I treat my body--I had endless amounts of time to lose the weight, get in shape, eat healthier foods. If not this year, then next year. Or maybe the one after that. But the episodes of this show have focused on people in my age range who have felt the same way. Most of them are MUCH harder on their bodies than I am--they smoke heavily, they drink vast quantities, and never exercise. And it shows. For the people on the program, it shows outside as well as inside, but it gets me to thinking--what if my own unhealthy habits are showing on the inside already?

Bad habits aren't easy to change, so I'm approaching it gradually. I don't have the luxury of an 8-week intensive course with personal trainers, nutritionists, and motivators to keep me on the straight and narrow. So, I've given up French fries. Hard thing, because I'm a carb-a-holic and love my fries. And I've given up most fast food (with the exception of an occasional slice of pizza with the kids). I'm boosting my activity level with time on the exercise bike (in preparation for spring biking!) and more walking.

But when there's going to be chocolate during what promises to be a long and tedious meeting, how can I pass that by?

soon it begins

My oldest son Aidan is just on the brink of his formal education--he starts kindergarten in the fall. He's so excited by the prospect that the greatest compliment you can give him now is to say he is acting "just like a schoolkid." He role-plays the school day all the time--our family dinners become cafeteria lunches, drawing sessions become homework, and time at the park across the street becomes recess. I hope this enthusiasm continues once he really is in school!

But there's one part of his education that I think we'll need to supplement, and that's his education in music. My own music education was woefully spotty. I had a few private instructors teach me (first on the organ, then on the guitar), but they never followed any particular curriculum. I came away with bits and pieces of knowledge from one teacher, and a little bit of something from the next. And what I learned in school didn't fill in any of the gaps.

So, in the time-honored tradition of wanting better things for my kids, I've decided to find a good music teacher for Aidan. But where to start? There are countless private teachers in this area (with the same potential pitfalls I faced). There are schools that teach the Suzuki method, the Yamaha method, the this-method, the that-method. It's all very daunting to a musically untrained person like myself. I want a logical, systematic curriculum, but most of all, I want it to be fun for him. Much of the reason I gave up music lessons was because of being bored to tears with scales and exercises. I want better for my kid.

But not only that, he also wants to play soccer.

I live in fear of becoming one of those stressed-out families, with too many time commitments and not enough time. One of those families that never eats dinner together and only sees one another in passing from one lesson to another. I won't let us become that, but I want the kids to be able to explore the things they're interested in. It's going to be a balancing act.

The knitting is coming along just fine. No photos of the progress on Quinn, but I'm getting into the home stretch on the main part of the bag. A few more quiet evenings of work on it, and I'll have something to show!

new projects, not all knitting

I have new projects to work on these days, but the first isn't really new. The other day, I made the bold decision to start keeping my journal in handwritten volumes again.


This was a big decision for me. When my first son was born nearly 5 years ago, I abandoned the handwritten volumes and started keeping my journal on the computer. After all, I can type so much faster than I can write, and keeping the journal electronically would allow me to keep up the habit of a lifetime during a very busy time of my life. But as it turned out, I hated the Microsoft Word journal. Even though I was able to capture my ephemeral thoughts more quickly, the electronic words had no life of their own. (Ironic that I should say this at the very moment I am creating more electronic words.) Anyway, I was in Harvard Square and went to a wonderful stationers shop, where I found a delectable orange leather journal, with pages and pages of space to write. I bought a new pen and a giant cup of tea, and set about the task of writing all my personal stuff down. It felt so good! I started my first journal in 1974 and have never stopped writing since. Yum.

And more knitting projects on the horizon. I'm making a purse with the Rowan Yorkshire Tweed Aran I bought at Wild and Woolly in Lexington. I'm using Yvonne's pattern Quinn, and it's turning out beautifully so far. The top of the bag is a cabled band worked horizontally, then stitches are picked up along the edge of the band to work the remaining part of the bag.


I have to say, Rowan has just not impressed me with this wool. I've found not one, not two, but THREE knots in a single skein of this yarn! Not only that, but in places the yarn is so weak that it breaks. I'm not a tense knitter--my knitting tends to be on the loose side--so that really means the yarn is weak. All I can say is that I'm glad I got the wool on sale. I would have been mighty angry if I'd paid full price for this knotty, weakling yarn!

Not only that, I received my first shipment of Knit Picks yarn. I've read so much about it on other people's blogs that I just had to try it. I bought their merino yarn for my husband's new sweater, and spent a whopping $37 on it! The yarn is silky soft, and I can't wait to get going on it!



With the yarn for my husband's sweater, I also received enough yarn to make another tam...

snowy day

It's the tiniest of snowy days today, by New England standards. Maybe a quarter inch of wet slushy snow has fallen on the ground, not even enough to shovel. But there is something about snow, even a little bit, that makes the world slow down and become quieter. It's as if Mother Nature is putting a blanket over the world and telling you that humankind isn't really in control here. Today's snowfall isn't even to keep anyone in, but it's enough to dredge up memories and stories about snowstorms of all kinds, especially the Blizzard of '78. I wasn't in New England then, but I've heard the stories, and it gives me a healthy respect for what Mother Nature can do.

For me, though, snowy days make me really want to curl up on the couch and cover up with the Magic Afghan.

The Magic Afghan was knit by my mother probably 40 years ago, from acrylic yarns in then-fashionable shades of avocado green and harvest gold. It became known as the Magic Afghan because it used to always make me fall asleep when I wrapped myself in it. It's one of my prized possessions, and my kids are growing to love it the same way I do.

more hats!

I finished my hats for Portia and Throsby and put them in the mail.

Portia's hat is made of wonderfully heathery purple Cascade yarn knit in the Coronet pattern from Knitty. I made just one small modification--I created a small hole in the back for Portia's ponytail to poke through, so she can wear a hat and keep her whole head warm. Now she'll have a purple hat to match the one that her American Girl doll is wearing...which was supposed to be Portia's hat, but it came out WAY too small!

Throsby's hat is a double-layer hat made from Reynolds Andean Alpaca Regal yarn in shades of black and grey. With a provisional cast-on of black yarn, I knit ribbing for a bit more than 4 inches (twice the depth of the cuff when flipped up), then knit a basic stocking cap out of dark grey. After finishing the dark grey cap, I then picked up the stitches from the provisional cast-on and knit another stocking cap going thr other direction in a lighter grey. When the second cap was finished, I turned one cap inside the other and tacked them together at the top. This hat should be wonderfully warm, which should keep Throsby's ears toasty warm when he's on his paper route!

Next on the knitting agenda is a cable knitted bag called Quinn. I'm using Rowan Yorkshire Tweed Aran in a deep chocolatey brown that I bought at Wild and Woolly's semi-annual sale. Yum!

tempus fugit (time flies!)

Saturday was a magnificent spring day (in January?!), and the boys and I decided to wander parts of Boston to "see what we can see." I had my camera with me, so you can see a little part of our long walk. Warm and sunny, the day was a real gift.

We started our walk in Downtown Crossing, with a visit to Windsor Button to buy some size 7 circular needles. (Yes, I have a million sets of circulars, but no size 7s. And I think I'm doomed never to have size 7s, because the pair I bought disappeared as soon as I brought them into the house. But I digress.)

Just outside the knitting shop, I looked up and saw this wonderful torch. I love the Art Nouveau styling of the building number. The shopfront here is completely nondescript, but fortunately no previous renovator decided to dismantle the lovely torch.

We picked up some lunch and decided to have an urban picnic. We found a place to sit near Macy's, where we spent some time people-watching while we filled our bellies. This part of Downtown Crossing is a great place to watch people, because it is such a crossroads for the city. The kids loved watching the taxis and police patrolmen and hotdog vendors.

This is an area of real change. Longtime Boston residents lament the closing of Jordan Marsh, and more recently Filene's. Chain stores have moved in--and moved out--of the area. Some things seem eternal, like the chiming of the bells on the old Filene's on the hour, every hour. And then there are new discoveries, like the solar-powered trash compactors.

Here's a view of Washington Street heading north. Like many older cities, it's a real mishmash of architectural styles, including the 18th-century Old South Meetinghouse, generic skyscrapers, and a humble little 1970s-era CVS. Just a short walk from here is Boston's famous Faneuil Hall, as well as its hideous City Hall. Such a city of contrasts.

Look up when you're in Boston, and you'll see some interesting details.













This medallion is over the side entrance of a once-grand building whose first floor has been remodeled beyond recognition. Perhaps because this medallion was on a side street, nobody thought it worth the effort to remove in the name of "progress."

Here's one we saw later in the day, a small detail of a building on Boylston Street in Back Bay.













Sometimes this amount of detail can seem almost overwhelming, but it amazes me to think about the value that businessowners and architects used to place on detail. I think fewer people think about the longevity of buildings today, so they often aren't as willing to invest in the effort to create beauty.

Aidan shares my interest in old graveyards, so we went to explore King's Chapel Burying Ground.













Most of the graves there are from the 1600s and 1700s, though I did notice one from 2003! Anyway, we used this visit to talk about the imagery we saw on the gravestones and what they symbolized. Most are quite somber, but this one made death look quite cheerful.


This one was more somber and serious, in keeping with the many skeletons and skulls we saw carved upon the stones. If you look carefully, you can see the skeleton holding a candle-snuffer, ready to snuff out the flame on the candle. Heavy stuff indeed.













Something lighter was in order next, so we walked over the Boston Common to see what was happening (along with 99.9% of the city's residents who were out enjoying the glorious day.) A few brave souls ventured onto Frog Pond for some ice skating, but the surface of the ice refused to freeze. As some of the more accomplished skaters made quick turns, water sprayed off the blades of the skates and glistened in the sunlight.



Time to be an airplane!
















Here's another part of Boston that is about to change--the Ritz-Carlton. Later this week, it will become Taj Boston, after having been sold away from the Ritz-Carlton company. Actually, this isn't really part of old Boston--it only goes back to 1927--but there is so much changing in Boston that a lot of people are getting very nostalgic. I have to admit, I'm one of them. I always fancied having "tea at the Ritz," but it doesn't sound the same to say "tea at the Taj" (though that sounds like it could have an exotic appeal, doesn't it?).

Dazzling display of cherry blossoms in January.













Delightful, beautiful, and yet so sad because the cold weather will come and shock the living daylights out of the trees. I wonder if we will have much a spring after getting this preview so early?

Our usual stop to see Mrs. Mallard and her babies, the bronze statues in the Public Garden modeled after the characters in the book Make Way for Ducklings. Douglas and Aidan seem to have a built-in homing device that alerts them when we're within walking distance of Mrs. Mallard, so we go visit her just about every time we're in town.

This time, though, we had a little drama of a quarrel between two stubborn 4-year-old girls over the next-to-last duckling, Pack. Despite the fact that Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, and Quack were all free, the girls fussed and shouted screamed about sitting on Pack. Both little girls were as cute as their behavior was horrid, but their parents laughed off their behavior, even when one of the girls smacked her mother and told her "I hate you!" Her mom saw that other parents were watching, and she simply laughed and said "see what I have to put up with?" Oh dear, her future is going to be mighty grim...


But at long last, our day of discovery came to an end. With the sun dipping low in the sky, it was time to cross the bridge in the Public Garden and head back to the car. Two weary boys and one weary mom, but it was a beautiful day. I'll remember it when the snow comes...later this week, they say!

new year, new projects

After the dismal failure of Portia's purple hat (which ended up too small and now graces the head of her American Girl doll), I have started a new one. This one is based on the Coronet pattern from Knitty, but I made one small change. I loved the idea of a hat with a hole for a ponytail to poke through, so I added one just above the braided border. Portia wears her ponytails low like that, so I think this should suit her just fine.

I have to say, though, I don't like knitting in the round on double-pointed needles. Despite the fact that I inherited my grandmother's massive collection of knitting needles, I didn't have a set of size 8 circulars. Every place I went was sold out, so I've had to do the whole thing on the dp needles. They really slow me down! With circulars or with regular flat knitting, I can fly, but the dp needles are so awkward for me. Needless to say, I have no desire to try knitting socks....

I know I'm completely in the minority here, because I see from so many blogs that knitters everywhere love knitting socks. How many thousands of socks were knit for Socktober? How many of you have lovingly posted the pairs and pairs of socks that you've made for yourselves and your family? But I just don't get it! Apart from the dp needle issue, I would find it heartbreaking to knit something that will get worn out! I've worn holes in countless socks, and I've felt no compunction about tossing them out. But a handknit sock? I'd cry!

Maybe the appeal is the small size of the project? If that's the case, I'd much rather knit hats and scarves (can't have too many!). Next, after Portia's hat, I'm making one for her brother Throsby. His will be a double-layered hat in some deliciously soft Reynolds Andean Alpaca Regal. I made a hat for Aidan out of that yarn two years ago, and not only is it wonderfully warm, but it wears beautifully.

Now if only I could find more time to knit! I have such a backlog of projects--and my favorite yarn shop is having its semi-annual clearance sale next week. Yes, I will be one of the insane knitters queuing up at 7:00am to be one of the first in the door...