On Monday, Froggy blogged about picking up the Cornelia Tuttle Hamilton Book Number Two, same book I blogged about buying last week at Knit Happens. We both love the design Klaralund, which is knitted in Noro Silk Garden and is pictured here:
I’ve already got enough Silk Garden in my stash to knit Klaralund. What’s not to like?
So-o-o-o-o . . . anyone up for a Klaralund-Along?
Miz Froggy and I will be co-hosting the Klaralund-Along, starting in September and we cordially invite you to Klaralund along with us!!!!
Washington DC area knitters — how about we meet up at Knit Happens on the first Wednesday night after Labor Day for late night at the shop and kick off our Klaralund-Along? I’ll be there, Klaralund-Alonging, anyhow. Even if I’m the only Klaralund-Alonger there.
You might have figured out that I really like saying Klaralund-Along.
Bandwidth Theft Update
Last night I spent an hour renaming all the buttons on my blog and editing my template. I took a look at my stats yesterday and yeah, there are a whole lotta people hotlinking to my site. So now those graphics will display as broken links on their sites.
I am now working on the last sleeve of Lisa, so she will be finito soon-o.
And here is the shrug.
Note that it is in a nasty little heap. There is a reason for this. I hate and detest it. It does not deserve a decent photo.
So what’s the problem? I should know by now that modular knitting doesn’t suit me. I don’t like the way this fits — the neck is too wide and the back is too short. It’s not a big deal — I did not spend an inordinate amount of time knitting it. So I’m not overly upset.
Could I do something to make it wearable? No doubt I could. But I’m not going to. I’d rather spend my time on something else.
I’ll try to remember to stick to more structured, tailored, fitted designs from here on out.
Tonight is late night at Knit Happens, so I’ll be there, probably with a new WIP in hand. See, I have something in my stash that is screaming (screaming, I tell you) to be knit. It is Alchemy Silk Purse — 100% silk dk weight yarn in an acid/lime green (are you reading this, Bonne Marie?) and it sends me into transports of delight. So I whipped up a little pattern for a vee-neck tank.
Film at 11.
Here is the yarn.
I sneaked it into the house without SpongeBob noticing. Hee hee! I’m so sneaky.
Lucy is too busy grooming her fluffy tail to care.
Can I Just Say . . .
. . . how totally jazzed I am about Secret Pal 2, being organized by the wonderful Heidi? Cuz I am! I didn’t participate in the first Secret Pal project that went on in Knit-Bloggyland because by the time I figured out it existed, it was in full swing. Yeah, I’m slow like that!
So I’m really really pleased to have gotten in on the ground floor of this one. I love making and giving surprises so this is gonna be great fun!
My Rat Encounter
Re your comments about my brief encounter with Mr. Ratty on Monday:
Aww – rats are cute! ^.^
(I know, I know, I probably would have shrieked in surprise and jumped as well; there’s a big difference between your garden-variety trash rat and the cute rats I had as pets.)
I had mice when I was a kid, and loved them dearly. I think pet rats are cute too.
Mr. Ratty, on the other hand, was almost as big as Lucy, no doubt infested with vermin, and butt-ugly.
I seem to recall a previous Rat Encounter mentioned on your blog. Maybe they are ganging up?
Yes indeed, there is a big nasty rat that I’ve seen outside the building where I work. Eeeeeew. Hopefully the Washington DC rat is not in cahoots with the Alexandria, VA rat.
I’m trying to picture a rat leaping gazelle-like, and also trying very hard to not laugh out loud here in a public university computer cluster…it wouldn’t be very academic of me
And Jon said:
As someone who’s seen gazelle in their natural habitat (the African plain) and rats in their natural habitat (the NYC subway filth), I am having a really, really hard time imagining a gazelle-like rat. But I’ll try, since you seem to think it’s possible, Wendy!
Okay, you guys are gonna have to trust me on this one. This huge disgusting filthy rat came flying out of the trash can in an graceful arc. An Olympic high jumper would envy the height and distance of his leap. I kid you not. I’ve never seen a projectile rat before.
And for the record, I did not scream nor did I jump. I just kept on walking. I am SO not awake when I’m staggering into work in the morning, pre-caffeine.
Besides, I don’t recall ever screaming, ever, in my life. I’m Swedish. In times of great emotion we shake hands.