Things I am afraid of

No, this does not involve spiders, advanced mathematics, or axe murderers. This involves complex, beautiful, scary knitting techniques.

Cabling, for instance. Very, very, very beautiful. But deadly. Did you know that a single cable can take up to three years off of your life? It's no joke. Experts recommend that you cable with a friend or companion, in order to spread the frustration around.

Intarsia is also a bit daunting. I've heard tales about people who have lost fingers and family members while working on intarsia pieces. Be sure that you take your doctor-prescribed anti-depressant before you begin any intarsia project, and have the paramedics on speed-dial.

For blocking, garlic and a crucifix are required equipment. Something about pinning a scalloped edge brings out the undead like nothing else (except nuclear rain). You'll need to defend yourself and your project at the same time, so make sure you eat a good breakfast.

Felting requires no less than three people. Safety goggles and hard hats are to be used by everyone. Worst-case scenario, you'll be ready to do yourself in after your piece shrinks by twice the amount you were expecting. One of your friends will need to keep you away from the nearest canyon while the other pours you a drink.

You can have fun, but remember: Friends don't let friends knit drunk.

Robots Can't Knit

Knitting is impressive. I wouldn't call my own knitting impressive, stuck as I am in the land of scarves and hats, but it seems to impress others. Perhaps it is a dying art? In 200 years, will the apes still knit? Or will they have their human slaves do it for them? If robots and AI take over, I don't think they would be able to knit.

In fact, I'd be so bold as to say that robots can't knit. And I've made an illustration to prove it.

I have the disease...

I can't seem to help myself. No matter what I do, I just can't finish one project and begin another. I keep coming up with new projects, and instead of finishing my current one, I just put it aside and knit whatever I feel like next.

Currently, I have three scarves in different stages of completeness. They are actually three out of the six I had hoped to have finished by now. (We see now that it was a bit foolish to assume we could knit and work full-time and be a parent and actually finish a mass knitting project.)

And then this evening while visiting the in-laws, I got the urge to knit a shawl for my husband's sweet grandmother. I had an extra skein of Lion Brand Homespun in Tudor in my bag, and decided to begin a triangle shawl on my size 15s. The yarn had been earmarked for the next scarf, but what the hell; I wasn't going to actually get around to doing the scarves anyway. And the lady is 80-something, she deserves a nice shawl.

I'll post some pics of the work in progress as soon as I find my camera. (Side note: I can't find the 'condom hat', so no pics as of yet.)

Current projects: Three semi-finished scarves and one shawl.

Future projects: Argyle pullover for the Monkey, matching baby ponchos for the Monkey and the neighbor's kid (so that when she and the Monkey play together, they'll look freaking adorable!) I'd also like to knit a Mario-themed pullover for the Monkey. She's a geek in training, it will be perfect!

And maybe somewhere in there I'll get around to some legwarmers. The 80s are back, baby!

Captain's Log: Stardate... oh, whatever

So, this is a blog, eh? Nice to see you. As you likely know, this is my first post.

This will be a blog about knitting, and assorted other topics as I see fit. We may delve deeper into my psyche as time goes on, but for now, I'll keep to knitting.

I learned to knit when I was about six. My mom gave me some dusky pink yarn and let me go to town on making myself a scarf. I remember her handing me the needles and instructing me in the art of the knit stitch. I remember being excited, and knitting as fast as my little stubby fingers would let me.

And then... disappointment. The stitches did not, in fact, produce a beautiful, even scarf. The thing was, well... ugly.

So, I moved on, and spent a few years not knitting. (What I was doing is none of your beeswax.) And then about six or seven years ago, I picked it up again.

My mother, beloved personal knitting instructor, handed me a set of four metal double-pointed needles (DPNs to those in the know). She cast on enough stitches to fit my giant head, and I went to town on my very first hat. The results are laughable.

Coming soon... a picture of my very first self-knitted hat, lovingly labeled "the condom hat".