Christmas day is in our grasp, so long as we have hands to clasp.

Let's throw it back to Christmas, friends.  It is Thursday, after all, and the word on the street is that this is what we do.  Onward to yesteryear.

This adorable babe strikes again!  You may remember Emmy from her green-hat-with-larger-than-life-button fame.  (I'm kidding, this is not what makes her famous.  She's famously adorable, all of her own accord.  But, this is why you will remember her from the blog.  I'll save you the trouble of playing another round of "I've seen that face somewhere before."  You saw it right here.  And you're welcome.  Times two.)

This Christmas, Emmy was in the market for a Santa hat.  I'm a fan of merriment, in a general way, via the cute-ing up children, in a particular way.  So, this was the result of my support of Emmy's quest to be the biggest little Christmas joy-bomb she could be.  I'm told she was just that, as she rocked this look around the nursing home in her hometown, where she was given a warm reception.  Anyway, I'm thankful to cutesters like Emmy for enhancing my knits by association.  Keep on keeping cute, Emmy.





<--- Now all she needs are those two turntables.  Adorbs.

Yo Frodo, whatcha doin' wearin' the ring?

...All-powerful jewelry, is that your new thing?  -Flight of the Conchords

Not idly do the leaves of Lothlorien fall, y'all.  It's pretty difficult to don this thing and not feel like you're straight-up Arwen from Lord of the Rings.  Am I right, my word-nerd brethren?!  Tolkien forevs.

Welp, the origin story on this one is as follows.  My mama found me a wonderful knitting book last winter called "French Girl Knits" (accessories edition).  Tena-with-an-E and I were flipping through it and became enamored with this hooded infinity scarf.  This was later to be more aptly dubbed the "Howl" (hooded cowl) by my brilliant big sister.  I began the adventure of deciphering this pattern a few months ago.  To be honest, I feel I should have gone into the CIA for the code breaking training first.  They did not put that disclaimer in the introduction.  But maybe French girls are all rocket scientists and neurosurgeons.  Tough to say.

The challenge didn't stop there.  I got a little bogged down by phase one:  the most elaborate cables I have ever borne witness to.  This part was a little tricky because there was a lot of counting and keeping-one's-head-on-straight necessitated.  On account of I typically knit while running my mouth (and sometimes my ears) at my friends, it took me a while to get past the troll under the bridge that was this cable process on the way to the land of Howl.  But, I learned some stuff.  And, as School House Rocks taught me, "It's great to learn, 'cause knowledge is power!"  I'm so powerful now, you guys.  One ring to rule them all.

From there, all was smooth sailing on the winds of those summer breezes which make us feel fine.  The rest of the pattern was all knit stitches and increase stitches until a crescent moon shape was achieved.  Then, all that remained was to join a row of stitches to form the back of the hood and join the ends or the cowl.  It was actually one of the funnest projects I've ever tackled.  We'll see, I may bust this pattern out again sometime, if I can find another dame classy enough to wear it.  But for now, please enjoy the Howl as modeled by some such classy ladies below.


Top row:  My niece, Hailey, sports the owl mitts I made her last year.  Her friend, Reagan, rocks the Howl.  Cuties.



Bottom row:  Tena-with-an-E demonstrates the hood-down look in true old hollywood glam fashion.  And on the right, she humors me, as only sisters can, with a demonstration of the step-by-step wearing instructions.  There may have been a few tear-inducing laughs along the way.  Giggling with my sisters never gets old, no matter how old we get.



(My fellow Psych-os.  Does my sister not remind you a smack of a brunette Chief Vick?  It gets me every time.)  (Tena, that's definitely a complement.  Big fan of the Chief.) ;)

I want a girl with a short skirt and a loooooooong jacket.

Well, sorry to burst your bubble, Cake, but you're going to have to settle for a long cowl.

Cowls, you guys.  They're incredible.  This project happened for a few reasons:

1.  My coat is a bit of an odd color and, seeing that I've now passed a couple winters with it, it seemed appropriate to make some accessories that were a little less clashy / more classy.

2.  I was cruisin' Instagram (Have I mentioned how much I love Instagram?) and saw a picture of some chick I don't know wearing a fab cowl.  Lightweight yarn that just sorta fell all around her face.  I won't lie, I was jealous of her face.  And, yes, I am scrutinizing your knitwear, folks.  For better or worse.  Sorry, not sorry.

3.  I recently taught a friend to knit.  This was the best idea ever, because now I have another swell pal to sit around knitting and shooting the breeze with.  (What does one appropriately shoot the breeze with, you guys?  BB gun?  Pea shooter?  Salad shooter?  Inquiring minds.)  One such session of lighthearted knit-foolery found my friend knitting a cowl-of-a-different-color.  Said friend's brother suggested that the only thing that could make that cowl better was about 4 feet of length.  Being hep to the jive, as I am, I saw that he meant to imprison his brother in a knitclad fortress of his own making.  Hilarity.  Anyway, you don't just let an idea like that pass you by.

Please see below, the resultant cowl/straight jacket.  I'm digging it so far.  It's really versatile.  Not pictured, it's also pretty fun to just pull that puppy up over your head and rock it as a hood.  In short, it's long.  But, I ain't mad at it!

Machete in a tree stump, hound dog on a chain;

wouldn't let a woman play on the banjo in the rain.  -O' Be Joyful (Shovels and Rope)

Folks, this one was FUN.  So, last year, I was browsing a neat clothing shop downtown with my best gal Friday.  She wanted to show me this wonderful sweater she'd been lovin' on.  You know the type.  Long.  Cozy.  The kind of whale you'd like to get Jonah-ed by, and then beg to n'er be spat back out.  (Yes, I did just used "Jonah" as a verb.  You're going to have to run with it.)  It just so happened that this particular sweater was also a child of the Navajo print family.  In short, it was a dreamboat.

I found myself carrying on a mental dialogue (party-of-one) about how much I love navajo print, especially in conjunction with sweaters.  But, then, I thought to myself that Scandinavian sweaters are also the best.  Sidebar, this is funny because my two favorite patterns are comprised of my true heritage (100% Norway, bay bees) and my presumed heritage (Native.  Well, I get a lot of that and a little Greek.  But, mostly Native.)  Coincidence?  Probably.  Regardless, Navajo & Scandinavian knitwear bests all other knitwear.  It seemed only logical to marry the two.  Alas, I made a vow to myself that I would one day begin a knitventure in creating projects that I would call my "Scandajo" knits.  Ridiculous?  Yes.  Awesome?  Mabes.  Choose your own adventure.

Now, a year later, after having discovered this wonderful book of Scandinavian knitting motifs, I decided 'twas time.  Below is the first of what will probably be a longstanding friendship with Scandajo knitting.  It seemed only appropriate that my first project should be gifted to a dear friend who is one of the most creatively inspired (and, therefore, inspiring) people I've ever met.  If not for people like this, I'm convinced I would be content to never have original thoughts.  But, it's contagious.  Shout out to all my original thinkers!  (I know many.  But, here's looking at you, Sam and Ashley.  You guys keep me on my toes, and I love you for it.)  Anyway, this Scandi book contained a pattern for an exact replica of my friend's dog (Zeus), so it had to be done.  Other Scandi features include the traditional thrumming (the pattern just above the brim), and the l'il viking boats up at the top.  The navajo biz is all the color work in the center of the hat.  I'm pretty happy with it for the first go, but looking forward to playing with it more in future.

Holler at my fellow knitters:  Anyone out there seasoned in the art of setting your knitwear?  This is a fairly new practice for me.  I'm finding that sometimes it stretches out my work.  Which is funny, because everything I've read seems to caution against shrinking during the setting process.  Anyway, it's happened a few times, this time included, and I find it irksome.  (Sam.  If your hat conspicuously goes missing one day, don't worry too much.  It's probably me just trying to shrink that sucker back down b/c I noticed it fits a little loose after the setting shenanigans.  Hrrmph.)  Anyway, if anyone knows what the what is, let's talk.  (Shaina?  Hit me with your best shot!)

"O' be joyful.  Is that what yer doin'?"  (Guys, if you don't know Shovels and Rope, you should.)  Peace.

I'm starting with the man in the mirror.

Y'all, knitting a beard hat has been an intention of mine since a couple years back.  In fact, my dear friend Lindsay suggested it be added to my list of resolutions for the 2012 season.  To this, I thought:  quantifiable, brilliant, I may actually be able to check that one off the list!  It should not surprise you, friends, to know that I did NOT complete this mission in 2012.  However, I did get around to it just recently.  I finally set aside the time for bearding, thinking I was going to use it as part of a halloween costume.  You see, my primary job takes place in a bookstore.  I typically like to tailor my get-up for the environment I'm working in.  This tradition started back when I began working at the gym and made myself a Power Bar costume (See right.)  Since making the switch to being a more prominent bookstore presence, I've begun attempting to dress as a literal representation of a book.  Last year, endeavoring to stay hip with the times, I dressed up in 50 shades of grey.  The books were so ridiculously popular, I felt that it was an inevitable choice.  Yes, I am that strange person dressing up as a pun, and thusly being completely misunderstood.  God bless my friend Sam, though, as all he needed was the hint "it's a book pun" to jump right to the right conclusion.  Another guess worth noting was Flashdance Barbie.  That was funny.  Anywho, this year I was planning to dress up as The Old Man and the Sea.  That's where the beard hat comes in.  Every sailor needs a stocking cap and a beard, as I see it.  Alas, I didn't hear any buzz about folks dressing up, so I never put the whole costume together.  Regardless, here is my first beard hat for your enjoyment:

All I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by.

Also, progress checks are funny.  

Bless your beautiful hide, wherever you may be.

I consider it apropos to bring Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (as quoted above) into any discussion about lumberjacks.  I can't even quite recall if they (the brothers) were lumberjacks, per se, as it has been quite some time since I watched it at my Great Aunt Eunice's house.  (Bless her, she brought many a wonderful thing into my life.  Mostly herself.  She was wonderful.)  Regardless, great movie.  If they weren't lumberjacks, they certainly threw down that vibe.  

Confession time.  I have a irreversible crush on Lumberjack Plaid.  You know.  The classic red and black flannel.  It's got my heart.  

While at an apple festival at a local orchard with my sister and roommate, it dawned on me that I NEEDED, in a big way, some lumberjack legwarmers.  Armed with no less than four skeins of yarn, a set of "death sticks" (as my friend Anna has recently termed double-point needle sets), and a heaping spoonful of determination, I set out to make this a reality.  Though a time-intensive task, it was really not that difficult to bring to fruition.  For this I am glad.  

Here they are, as photographed by a lovely friend of mine who has just set out to sharpen her photography skills.  Luckily, that means she was willing to roll on down to a local hiking oasis with me to snap some photos of my newly acquired lumberjack legs and share in the merriment of a good forest frolic.  She's a favorite of mine to frolic with, so I was doubly blessed by her involvement in this endeavor.  

There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold.

Another favored barista of mine (I'm telling you guys, coffee is the way to my heart.) is the biggest Harry Potter fan I've ever met.  Ever.  And I know a lot of  HP fans.  Of which, I am one.  Last year she asked me if I'd consider making her a Weasley sweater.  I explained that, though I would love nothing more, at my current rate this endeavor would likely take up all of my spare time for a solid year.  :/  So, we struck a deal and decided that golden snitch mitts were the thing to sport to properly non-verbally state one's admiration for the magical writings of miss JK.  I hope these mitts would do JK proud.  I can't bear the thought of anything less.  She's been so good to me, entertainmentwise,  I wouldn't want to disappoint her.