Once upon a time I was knitting a sweater, and then I had a disappointment, and finally I came to realize that this whole knitting in two colors in the round from the top was completely insane and probably impossible and I should stop. Just walk away from the pointy sticks. No more knitting stupid impossible sweaters.

But then during the plague I couldn’t help myself; a washcloth was not enough, I needed a KNITTING PROJECT. So I frogged the aborted sweater and started over.

This time it’s in manageable pieces, and I have a pattern to follow (Debbie Bliss’s fair isle cardigan in Vogue Knitting Holiday 2007). I am knitting in a different gauge but despite the reawakened frenzy I tried really hard not to just start. I did some calculations and it seems like the stitch count for the small size will turn out my size if knit at this gauge. (Please don’t quote me if I come back in tears.) Of course I’m still insisting on using the flower pattern instead of what the the designer suggested. I cannot follow a pattern to the letter. It’s a disease.

By the time I was well I had knit the right front, and I’m almost done with the back now.

The monster knitting obsession is back.

Last weekend I drove up to the Mid Hudson Valley in phase one of project figure-out-if-I’d-like-to-buy-a-house-and-live-upstate-at-least-part-time. It’s a good thing that omens do not deter me because Saturday began with finding the rental car bashed in. In the pouring rain.

I called the police and they showed up quickly so I was on the road by noon. It was still pouring rain. It never stopped raining. The rain got heavier and heavier. There were sheets of water crossing the parkway. On the hills little rivers gurgled along the pavement edge. Then there was the fog. I saw devil deer. And they saw me.

I drove steadily and slowly and felt exceedingly proud of myself when I got to my destination in one piece.

I had a lovely overnight visit with a friend who has known my parents and then me “since day one” as she puts it. Outside it continued to rain. The power went out but we remained unphased, sitting by the fire with candles and tea. She listened to me talk and talk and talk, and I started to see more clearly what my next step might be. Get help. Look at lots of houses. We went to bed and wrapped up cozy for a night without heat.

Sunday morning was another world: blue sky and crisp sun.

During breakfast the lights came on and the fridge started groaning. I drove back over the hill and spent the afternoon exploring the valley and imagining what it would be like. What would it be like to live here? What would it be like to come back and forth from the city? What would it be like to have to drive instead of walk to the store? Who would my neighbors be? And on and on. All the way home.

The plan was that the trip would clarify things, but I’ve come home with more questions. Maybe that’s alway the way. I guess I’m in the process.

I’ve started making another white pearl Deco Choker like this one:

photo by Christine Linder

This time I thought I’d try using a paler gold, which is also thinner, and it turns out that the pearls I’m using are a fraction of a millimeter narrower than the ones I used last time. It’s amazing what a difference it makes, although it’s kind of hard to illustrate the point without having them side-by-side.

Here’s the new white pearl version I’m working on next to a brown pearl necklace I made previously. The new piece is narrower and feels lighter; I think the final necklace will be more delicate and might need an extra triangle so it’s long enough.

I could probably spend a lifetime making the same piece over with new materials, or making tiny variations in spacing or length. I can make an educated guess as to how the beads will behave but I have to make the necklace or at least a sample to be sure. And it’s still frequently a complete surprise.

On day 2 of being sick I was already so completely and utterly bored that I grabbed one of Barbara Walker’s stitch treasuries, picked a stitch pattern with a large repeat, grabbed some cotton and knitting needles that looked like they would probably work, and made this washcloth.

The problem with the project was that it woke up the giant knitting obsession, but more on that later…

Meanwhile another huge sense of accomplishment was achieved by installing hooks behind the door in the studio to hang my no-longer-pile of bags.

Little victories.

Being sick is dull, dull, dull. I’m getting better but it feels like sixteen million years since I was in the studio making anything. I’ve been able to knit but that’s not WORK. The kind that satisfies my sense of purpose and brings in chunks of bacon. (Which still amazes me!)

So to shut up my whiny, sniffly self and create the illusion that I’ve been in the studio, here’s what I was working on before the great plague* descended.

I made another experimental piece out of half-cones. This time all the bumps are on the outside.

Again I think it’s a lovely object, but not yet wearable. The search continues… as soon as I get back into that beloved studio.

Happy Leap Year!

*aka common fluey cold.

I’m sick. M is sick. Days feel stripped down to essentials.

I’m frustrated at having all this time at home without the energy to make things. My studio looks sad and lonesome.

I need to learn from these guys how to relax and renew.

It’s all about naps.

Last week I set aside my cone experiments to work on an order for two Squares Necklaces in time for Valentine’s Day: one in soft pink, the other one in brown.

It’s always nice to work on a design I haven’t made in a while; like visiting an old friend. A meditative break from the constant questioning and figuring out that designing brings up.

I bought a new wallet and while cleaning out the old one I found a single porcupine quill tucked into one of the credit card compartments. I have no idea where it came from.

My grandparents live on a farm in Canada. Once, while visiting, I took the difficult path along the side of the lake – the one that usually only the dog takes, while people cross by canoe. On the steep bank under the fir trees I found the remains of a porcupine: skin and quills. Sacred.

I took a few of the spines and when I got back to the house I carefully put them into a matchbox which I carefully stashed in the cup holder by the driver’s seat in my car, and which I never saw again. I don’t know how I lost them when I was being so attentive, but it seemed right. Must not have been okay for me to take anything from that animal.

So the other day when I found the treasure in my purse it felt like full circle. I’ve been given back one quill.

I’m still catching up on sewing show & tell. I finished this guy back in December but no pics until now. Sorry the color’s a bit off.

I bought the fabric last year on my first expedition to Mood Fabric, during which there was much hyperventilation, and simultaneous desires to buy everything and to run screaming from the store.

Thankfully my friend Chris was with me, and by repeatedly stopping and staring at each other and saying over and over “this is amayyyyzing” and “I’m overwhelmed” we made it through the experience. I walked out with this upholstery fabric (for a bag? for a jacket? we didn’t know) and the fabric for my first pair of pants.

The jacket pattern is from Burda magazine, a reissue/update of one of their 60s patterns. Since my shoulders are 2 sizes smaller than everything else on my body I decided it would be smart to make a muslin, which felt like a terribly professional approach and turned out to be really helpful.

Basically I made a mock-up of the jacket out of cheap muslin and then tried it on and fitted it by pinning and basting until it seemed to fit right. I then transferred the changes back to my paper pattern, unstitching where needed to get the fabric flat again. This is like making two whole garments, which does sound crazy, but since it prevented the final piece from being thrown to the floor and stomped on in grief and frustration I think it was time well spent, and has become my M.O.

This fabric is so busy that I decided to skip making the pockets. Also because pockets seemed like more than I could handle. As it was I spent an entire evening puzzling out how to cut the fabric so the pattern would kinda sorta match up across seam lines and openings. I ended up making the back sleeves out of two fabric sections since there just wasn’t enough yardage to cut out the whole pieces and get the fabric pattern placed right.

The jacket is lined, which yet again is like making a second (in this case third) entire jacket, with slightly different edges. But the lining is red, and silky, and makes my jacket look like a real jacket so I love it.

I’m pleased and a little surprised at how well the whole thing turned out.

Even though I saw this design store window while on vacation, complete with pillows in the same fabric – different colorway.

Apparently I’m not done with upholstering myself.

A friend gave me this faux shearling jacket. It’s really warm but the cut was not flattering on me at all.

Yikes!

I took the sleeves off and then got stuck for several months, completely uncertain of how to shape the shoulder. When I came back to the coat the solution seemed obvious, which is often my experience with getting stuck on projects.

I measured where I thought the shoulder seam should be and cut to that shape.

I also unstitched the seams between waist and underarm and took them in for a better shape. I then reattached the sleeves. I shortened the coat by about 8 inches, and replicated the turn-up from the original. Finally I added a snap at the neck for a better neckline. It was easy once I trusted myself with it, especially since the fabric doesn’t fray.

I’ve been wearing it non-stop so it’s kind of grubby in the pictures, but it’s keeping me nice and warm.