Earlier this month, I came clean about the number of unfinished projects I had floating around, which grew in number the more I looked in dark corners and under couch cushions. Thusly, I discovered two abandoned baby knits solely in need of finishing: Baby Yoda and Bambina.

Within a few days of discovery, the Baby Yoda sweater was seamed (by Sharyn) and sent off to its rightful owner, but the purple Bambina is homeless. Her intended recipient started college this year. A co-worker is due late October, but she has the audacity to be pregnant with a boy, and purple Bambina is decidedly too girly.

In the spirit "use or toss it", I pulled out a few of the knitting books I own for baby knit ideas. It did not take much effort to realize that Mason-Dixson's Heartbreakingly Cute Baby Kimono would be just the thing to win my heart -- knit in one piece with very little seaming.

I cast on late last week, but I have done precious little knitting in that time. Lately, I am more interested reading and ripping. The baby is due near Halloween, so I have imposed a deadline of October 15th -- which means I will be knitting with a blind fury at my October 14th knitting group.

Until I joined Joe’s family, I never fully understood the impact of having children who go off for the day to mingle with other children and then bring home whatever ails them to the adults. It seems as if many of us knitters have been playing in the same sandbox and are infecting each other with a sort of strange bug. Lauren, Wanda, Stephanie, Yvette, and Nicole are all writing about knitting ennui, taking stock, finishing, ripping and downsizing.

Several weeks ago, I tried an experiment with my closet: I packed away (the bulk of) the clothing that no longer fits me. I left the vintage and dress pieces simply because they are too precious to wrinkle. Unsurprisingly, I have been making do with a very small amount of clothing since my weight gain, but was did surprise me was how much I loved seeing all of that space in my armoire.

Last night, I took a hard look at the vintage pieces still hanging, and I realized that even if I could wear a few of them now, I would not. They are wrong for me -- wrong color, wrong shape. I am open to the idea of stripping down my wardrobe to some very bare essentials and building it back up as I go along the path to a slimmer me. Like Stephanie, I am prepared to take stock of clothing, books, yarn and patterns and embrace a "more is less" attitude.

And thus, I say so long to Sorrel. It is quite obvious to me that this pattern represents a dream, not a reality for my style and shape. And what of the yarn? I can either return the 8 unused balls of Rowan Tapestry, or I can make something that I can -- and would -- wear successfully. The Lady Eleanor Entrelac Stole comes to mind, but I have more tough love to dole out to books and clothes before I can make a fresh start.

No matter that I am a working-class girl from Pittsburgh, I still hold on the hope that an unknown auntie will leave me with a small trust that will allow me to live a work-free life. While I like my present job a good deal, I loathe the "routine" of having a job: same hours, same desk, same tasks -- day after day. Dreary!

My routine was shaken this weekend, however.
Friday: 3:30pm: The senior officers have requested that we prepare and submit our 2007-2008 budgets submitted by Monday, September 25th.
We run on a July-June fiscal year, so this absolutely caught everyone at work off guard.

If it were not for the kindness of Stephanie and Petula*Darling my weekend might have been rather bust. Stephanie sent me three generous slices of her homemade soap, and nothing makes the I-have-to-work Saturday morning shower better than homemade soap!

And while I was plugging away on a spreadsheet, I was dreaming of the sewing books and magazine that Petula*Darling had shipped from the Land of Murder, She Wrote. The sewing books have rather interesting chapters on personal style (How to Be Your Own Stylist, Building a Wardrobe, You and Your Accessories, Taking Care of Your Clothes) that are most appealing as I wage through a personal style crisis.

Part of my crisis is that I have too often succumbed to patterns that are just not suited to my body shape or my personal style, and oops! I did it again. Or at least I think I did.

Sorrel: Cool yarn. Cool design. Rowan Magazine even included a segment with Sorrel (and a few other patterns) worn by "regular" women, and still, I am not convinced that the style (modern), cut (straight tube) will fit and flatter my style and body.

I am hearing those voices that typically spell doom for a knitter. The voices of caution. The voices of reason. Shall I heed them?

We are not a Tivo family. Last year, someone subscribed to Tivo using my American Express card. I was dismissed that the company failed to question the difference of address between the billing statement and the place of service. Further, they failed to respond to my calls and messages about the fraud, and when it was finally resolved (Thank you, American Express!), Tivo never bothered to send even a letter of apology -- but what would I expect from a company who failed to return calls regarding fraud?

We are not a Netflix family either. The idea appeals, but I know the minute those videos start arriving in the post box, we will have one free evening per month to marathon our way through five videos. As far as I am concerned, the public library is the best option for me. Even if the movie is utter shite, I have lost nothing but a bit of time.

Our DVD player was rather temperamental the other evening, and I was forced to watch my latest library rental, Nancherrow on my laptop. I discovered a most amazing knitter's tool for patterns. The "capture" feature. This allows a particularly lustful knitter to capture and save an on-screen "sweater of lust" for the purposes of pining, sharing, and possibly, copying.

Everything about this outfit sings to me (although I would make a few different color selections). The skirt cut and length is perfect for me, as are the dramatic touches of the scarf and the gloves. I am in love. Even the cut of the jacket (slight dolman/batwing shape) is divine. The scale would work with my height.


I recall seeing something similar (left) in a recent Interweave Knits, and I believe the designer was either Teva Durham or Annie Modesitt.

The lapel on the suit (right) had me panting and rewinding for a full ten minutes. Anyone who knows me well knows that I might leave Joe for that hat.

I want these clothes and hats. I really don't want to knit or to sew them. I want to be an actress and make only World War II movies set in Europe where I play a fashionable, but kind, heiress. I want the Wardrobe Mistress to deliver these pretty garments to my dressing room.

Otherwise, I would simply settle for some decent vintage shopping in the Mid-Hudson Valley.

World Peace Day
September 21, 2006

I used to pride myself on the fact that I was not a follower. I will admit that I do like to be accepted and to be liked, but not at the risk of compromising myself.

My mother was over-protective and a first-class worrywart. She could have suffered less had she realized that I would never bend to peer pressure for the simple fact that following the lead of others was antithetical to my nature. I preferred to go against the flow; it set me apart.

And how I lost this strength as an adult is something worth pondering. Curse you knitters for luring down the path of socking knitting with your glorious sock yarn! How utterly asinine that I have a small sock yarn stash -- I have neither the finances nor the space to acquire items that I will not use.

The arguments in favor of handknit socks are not lost on this small-footed woman who has endured more "heel bunch" than a teenaged boy has wedgies. Yes, nothing would be more delightful than wrapping my feet in a perfectly-fitting woolen tube of love, but it is not practical for me.

I neither wear, nor own, trousers and jeans, which are the most obvious clothing choices for sock-wearing. In spite of Cookie, Jasmin, Anna, Valentina, and even the fictional Amelie proving that socks and skirts go together, I shudder when I gaze in the mirror. I cannot do it. I cannot. I cannot. Rather I will heed Wanda's wise words: Those projects that have to go, need to go! Once you're on a roll that's it. Go ahead and rip out the socks. If you don't wear socks, what's the point of knitting them?

So, sock knitter of the world, say what you will, but Life in Lumayland will be live sans socks -- unless of course you care to knit me a pair to prove me wrong.

Not long ago, The Wall Street Journal ran an article on rekindled romances. The stories were sweet and focused on high school sweethearts who found each other and remarried a few decades and spouses later.

My few attempts with rekindling were resoundingly disappointing. The offending behaviour was still present, if not more pronounced, and too often strange habits had developed in the time between the end of Romance #1 and Attempted Romance #2.

As I worked my way through my unfinished projects, I felt quite similar to the last time I experienced a failed romantic reunion. My elation spiraled to deflation. As I continue to define and refine my personal style, I am forced to reckon with the fact that some of the projects that have been lingering for a year or more may not really fit me -- in body or spirit.

What I failed to show you in the photo is how the adorable Mini Sweater, which has enhanced the cuteness of many knitters over the years, created a most unflattering shape. It was beyond pear -- more hand bell, actually. How could such an adorable pattern make me look like a lumpy, dumpy, frumpy sack?

As I carried the Mini Sweater to my yarn winder, my deflation soared back to elation -- one less work in progress!

During my single years, there were times when I was so smitten with a man, or with the idea of being in a relationship with this man (or any man, for that matter) that I would cling to a relationship that was more stale than that container of leftovers mouldering in the back corner of the refrigerator.

Certainly relationships take work, but when is it time to give up the fight and move on?


I asked myself this very question no few than 123 times last night as I struggled ripping out Grace (GGH Soft Kid). I think it a rather handsome accomplishment that I managed to pluck out the decreases and cast off edge of the back piece, but the further along I went, the more of a fuzzy mess I created. To say that the fur was flying would be no understatment -- mohair fur, that is.

I tried to be honest and sweet, but Grace was not letting go without a fight. Frankly, it became more than I could bear; she was getting in the way of moving on to other projects. I did what I could to indulge her (and myself) until I could not take one more hot, itchy minute of it. Snickers was very fond of of Grace during the blocking stage, and it appears as if she and Grace have reunited.

The Ripped

1. Glampyre Orangina
2. Schaeffer Shawlette
3. Grace

The Finished

1. Bambina
2. Baby Yoda Sweater

The Pending

1. Glampyre MiniSweater
2. Gala
3. Sorrell
4. Tubey
5. Cece - I will save this for the Equinox...the Vernal Equinox.
   
6. Heeled Heelless Slipper Socks - Note to self: You do not wear socks.
   
7. Fixation Ankle Socks - Note to self: You do not %*#@^ wear socks.

1. I have not knit or frogged any of the Baker's Dozen due to hands being otherwise engaged with snotty nose.


2. I killed a succulent, but I am certain these flowers can survive the Black Thumbs of Death.


3. I typically eschew cold medicines (keep the ole Immune System on its toes), Zicam feels less intrusive than the standard OTC fare, and it is kicking some serious cold-symptom butt.

Someone I knew in Seattle would start the New Year by uttering the opposite of what she hoped to achieve. "I will stay in my current job" was a Reverse New Year's Jinx that would assure her a new (and better) position.

Personally, I prefer the more direct approach of "say it and make it so", but maybe there is something to this reverse jinx idea. If my knitting and my health are any indication, the reverse jinx is real and it is a powerful beast.

Within hours of my "it feels so good to be gluten free" post, I started sneezing and sniffling like mad. My boss snidely pointed out that my pronouncements about how much better I feel without gluten could be undermined by the sneezing fits and the nose swaddled in tissue. Point taken, but I am taking the position that this is my body detoxing years of gooey gluten and mucky milk. Do not tell me differently. Do not attempt to dissuade me with medical facts and yakity-yak; I will not believe you.

And what of my progress on the Baker's Dozen WIP List? In spite of leaving work early and napping away several hours of quality knitting time, I awoke determined to finish Molly Ringwald. All I had to do was attach the straps and work the sleeve caps. A quick wash and block would guarantee a fashion show to wear to knitting Thursday night.

Good Golly, Miss(Fit) Molly!

I made the 34" (rather than 36") size to compensate for the lack of "memory" in cotton and silk. It is possible that surgery and a hot wash 'n' dry could result in a better fit now, but it will be too big next year when I am closer to goal weight.

For now, I will put Molly Ringwald aside and concentrate on CeCe, Sorrell and Tubey -- once my hands are relieved of serving the snuffling nose.

Knitting
Frogging:
Glampyre Mini Sweater (scheduled for execution 18:00, 09/12/06)
Glampyre Orangina (frogged 09/11/06)
Grace (battle with mohair continues -- 100 Year War)

Finishing:
Bambina (one side seamed; one side to seam, and 3 buttons to attach) 09/14/06
Molly Ringwald (work sleeves and block) 09/14/06
Baby Yoda Sweater (attach snaps) 09/15/06
CeCe (join body & sleeves, finish yoke) 09/22/06
Sorrell
Tubey (sew 1st sleeve edge, finish 2nd sleeve, work body)

Assessing:
Heeled Heelless Slipper Socks
Cascade Fixation Ankle Socks
Shaeffer Shawlette

Jillian had jokingly suggested that I cast on another project to make a baker's dozen. *long pause* I found Gala in the bag with the Glampyre Mini Sweater. Perhaps the orange projects were sticking together and protecting each other?

Losing
Since 17 July 2006, I have lost a total of 12lbs. I achieved my goal of a 10lb-loss by the end of August, however, I held steady from last week to this week. Overall I needed to lose 50lbs, leaving me with a daunting 38lbs to go. Rather than focus on the seemingly impossible, I am looking at the weight loss in small 10lb-increments. So, I am working towards an additional 10lbs lost by the end of October.

However, I still need a kick to get me working out. The (free) gym at work is rather limited in its offerings and as such, rather uninspiring. I am not the sort that can play hampster on the treadmill for an hour. Booor-ing! I need classes, but the cost for three classes is equal to three months at a full-service gym. I can justify much, but buying a gym membership when I have a free facility at my disposal seems wasteful, but to not make use of any facility is not only wasteful, but unwise. It is a matter of health.

Living
Not only I am a copy cat frequently inspired by those around me, be it in knitting, reading or living; I am also a believer in signs. Within the span of 7-8 days, I learned that two acquaintances are afflicted with Celiac Disease and that two co-workers suffer from gluten allergy/sensitivity. I might have ignored the serendipity if I had not been told by alternative treatment type several years ago that I was most likely gluten intolerant. At the time, I was most assuredly intolerant -- to her suggestion to cut "gluten grains".

In a mere five days, I have noticed a significant difference, particularly post-meal. I also discovered that milk and I are not a good couple. Without the bloating and discomfort from grains, I learned that my usual two tall lattes per day were an intestinal menace. Cutting back to one latte per day -- with soy milk -- seems to have righted the situation.

The change has been less complicated than I had feared, although I can see how difficult it would be to navigate such a lifestyle if you were required to eat out frequently, had unsympathetic family and/or friends, or did not have a good health food store in close proximity.

Meanwhile, I have a fair amount of seaming and finishing ahead of me this week, so I had better use my daily latte wisely!

September 11th Memorial Garden
Vassar College
Poughkeepsie, New York

When I was single and in search of a lasting relationship, the best cure for a broken heart was to jump right back in the game and start dating again. Internet dating sites made this a rather easy prospect. Depending on the severity of the break-up, I would allow myself a a certain amount of grieving time, and then I would write up a whimsical profile, indicate that was interested in dating/friendship only, and post the best (but honest) photo of myself.

Even though I had not gotten over the heartbreak, going out on a decent date or two greatly improved my morale. Things felt a bit brighter and a bit better when I realized that another person found me bright, clever, and attractive. Things felt a even brighter and even better when I realized that I found another person bright, clever, and attractive. This was the sign of a mending heart.

As it happens, new yarn has much the same power. I walked into Yarn Cental last evening feeling as if I might spit fire and sob uncontrollably (at the same time, which might be a sign of an impending mental meltdown). Marjaana showed me the new bit of Rowan yarn that arrived earlier this week -- Tapestry. I liked the look of it; I liked the feel of it. And so I poured through the latest Rowan Magazine #40, and I was immediately struck by Sorrell.

Sorrell is rather "Tubey" in design, but the drapey neckline sets it apart. To avoid comparison to Tubey, I selected a simple neutral which should (hopefully) result in less obvious horizontal banding. Yes, yes...I have cast on for Sorrell.

And while I am in disclosure mode, behold my honest list of in-progress projects:

1. Glampyre Mini Sweater (either rip out or rip back for better fit)
2. Glampyre Orangina (only 2 repeats in; rip)
3. Grace (what was I thinking -- bisected boob seam and short sleeved/cropped in mohair?)
   
4. Bambina (abondoned baby gift)
5. Heeled Heeless Slipper Socks (undecided)
6. Baby Yoda Sweater (abondoned baby gift)
7. Schaeffer Shawlette (undecided)
8. Fixation Ankle Socks (undecided)
9. CeCe (deadline: bring to knitting Thursday, 14 Sept. 2006)
10. Tubey (in queue after Sorrell)
11. Molly Ringwald (deadline: wear to knitting Thursday, 14 Sept. 2006)
12. Sorrell (work simultaneously with Molly Ringwald and then CeCe)

I had better hurry and finish or rip, otherwise, I may have more in-progress projects than Nicole.

Most of all, I want to thank you all for chiming in. I was not fishing for compliments, but rather a way of getting over it by getting it out (cause these words are my diary screaming out loud). Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

en‧nui  /ɑnˈwi, ˈɑnwi; Fr. ɑ̃ˈnwi/ [ahn-wee, ahn-wee; Fr. ahn-nwee]

–noun

a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom: The endless lecture produced an unbearable ennui.

---

[Origin: 1660–70; <>enui displeasure; see annoy]

—Synonyms listlessness, tedium, lassitude, languor.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

So much for the sense of competition or inspiration I get from other knitters... I have not touched my knitting since Monday when I ripped out the Bleechy Cropped Cardigan. In that time, I have been hit by a truck of discontent. Nothing is interesting; nothing is appealing.

I recently told another blogger that I have a pathological fear of being average. Yet, my life is less than average. I have become all that I sought to escape: a fat, average, boring suburbanite who barely leaves the borders of her own state.

Why do the sacrifices we make for love become the very things that sacrifice who we are?

I struggle with an internal dilemma when it comes to rules and regulations. For as long as I can remember, I have disliked authority and rules just for the sake of authority and rules, yet, I am the first one shrieking about driving and talking on a mobile phone when some dimwit nearly plows into me because s/he is having a conversation about Fantasy Football or a French Manicure rather than paying attention to the damned road!

When it comes to knitting, I use patterns because someone else has taken the time to figure it all out (Thank you!)and spoon feed me the information. I do not require row by row instructions, work as set until piece measures 9" is clear enough -- even for me.

My biggest knitting pattern pet peeve is the failure to address the issues of fit and ease. Last summer, I knit a Teva Durham Loop-d-Loop pattern for a 20" chest, and I trusted the sizing because the pattern discussed the fit and stretch of the garment. Would that Blue Sky Alpaca have taken one small paragraph to suggest sizing to the knitter. That one paragraph would have saved me hours and irritation.

I might have contributed to the blobby, floppy state of the Blue Sky Cropped Cardigan with my gauge. I knit a gauge swatch on #11 US needles, which was too loose. I went down to a #10.5 US and cast on without doing another gauge swatch -- a big mistake, I think.

As Poirot was working out the mystery of who killed Mr. Shaitana, I was ripping out the Cropped Cardigan. I reclaimed the yarn, KnitUSA, for the trash bin later use. This is the yarn I used on the aborted vintage shrug, so it is beginning to look a bit long in the tooth. Honestly, I don't know if either of us has it in us for a third go.

It is a bit too much like a bad second date with a boy that you want to like: Great qualities, but the "spark" is not there.

For someone who lacks an interest in participating in sports, I have a strong competitive streak. Mostly, it is competition with me; however, I will admit that I feel a bit of competition with others as well.

While knitting is not a competitive sport, I am always a tad envious when another knitter seems to be dropping finished objects off of the needles. Maybe this is why I have been opting for the "quick knits" (Brigitte, the Blue Sky Alpaca Cropped Cardigan) of late. However, it feels like cheating. I have been competing in the same knitting class for nearly three years, and I am itching for a knitting challenge.

Until recently, I dismissed the Hanne Falkenberg patterns, as I found most of them too boxy and too busy for me (for both my height and personal tastes). Just glancing at those kits filled me with a combination of longing and dread; I was haunted and taunted by them: You are not a good enough knitter… .

As I am incapable of an independent knitting thought, Mardel's recent acquisition of Mermaid has rekindled my Hanne Falkenberg mental tug of war. Diva is appealing on a number of levels. Not only would it be a knitting challenge, it would be a very a unique jacket. And the punk safety pin closure!

There are many things I like about Mardel, and her ability to dive right in (be it with a pattern or literally into bags of yarn) is one of them. It is inspiring. In this way, she reminds me of Teri. Teri and I started knitting around the same time, but while I played it safe, Teri paid no mind to the notion of a pattern being "advanced" when she was "inexperienced".

Both Teri and Mardel have made me realize that my own fear has limited my growth as a knitter. How could a bit of aluminum and wool bring so much fear to a woman who quit her job of four years to study in Italy? A heavy dose of competition is fine, but a double dose of confidence is better.

Seven Day Stretch

Just as I am unable to pan Monday just for starting the work week, I do not praise Friday for ending it. This work week started Sunday at 7:30 a.m., and topped off my day job with two nights of hawking cosmetics and women's fragrances. Sheesh! I am wiped out. I would be shouting out that most annoying Friday workplace salutation, "TGIF" if it weren't for the fact that my work week does not end today at 5:00 p.m. for a three-day weekend. Oh no, my work week will finish Saturday at 5:00 p.m.

Frankly, Work Day #7 promises to be a good one, in spite of cutting into the last long weekend until November. I still get a bit of that childhood sadness about Labor Day. Thinking about it as the end of summer is programmed into me at a cellular level in spite being out of school for more years than I was in. I also have a very bittersweet memory of a Labor Day visit from my dear friend Dan; we spent the day in lower Manhattan, a good portion of which was spend at the World Trade Center. Ten days later, and...well...you know the rest.

But Work Day #7...Work Day #7 will be all about yarn. Theresa and I are working together, and nothing could be more enjoyable spending the day with Theresa, surrounded by yarn and patterns.

And while the weather is may be teasing us with a touch of autumn, I predict one last blast of heat. When it comes, Brigitte and I will be ready for it!

Pattern Specs
Brigitte, French Girl Knits
Size M/L, 34-40"/86-101 cm.
4 ball of Rowan Cotton Braid, #356 Picasso
(pattern called for 5)
#13 US/9mm needle
I ommitted the Summer Tweed tassels; my assel and hips need no additional attention drawn.

The Cotton Braid Experience: Sharp needles required for "digging" under the web of cotton and the wiggles of colored braid. I did not find this yarn to be particularly difficult, but Tango Diva Tanya had a rather unpleasant Cotton Braid Experience that resulted in a rather unfavorable review.


As soon as Brigitte was off the needle than I cast on for Mistur from Lopi #24. The yarns are completely antithetical, but I have been longing to work with a winter yarn, and nothing is more winter than Lopi. Nothing is quite possibly as shed-y as Lopi either.

If you are in the area tomorrow, drop by Yarn Central. I will be the girl in a Lopi fur covered tee, which should work to draw your eyes away from my unwaxed legs. Please, bring coffee. I will need the ventigrandemonster size to get me through Day #7 of the Seven Day Stretch.