To infinity! And Beyond!

Okay.  That wasn't a song reference this time.  But I couldn't contain it.  It had to be said.  Buzz Lightyear for president!  Who's with me?

Christmas times!  I made my very first infinity scarf as a gift for my friend, Sam.  Boy howdy, was it ever an adventure.  If you'll remember back to the blog installment about the moustache hat where I revealed my propensity for changing my mind and starting over, you'll not be surprised to hear that there were several false starts on this one.  9 false, 1 true, to be precise...You see, I started out trying to follow a pattern I thought I liked that I found online.  I figured I'd better do that, being-as-though I hadn't made an infinity before.  Turns out I didn't like that pattern.  Or any other I came across, really.  So, I tweaked and retweaked and eventually just decided to venture off into the unknown, armed only with the bits of general information I could glean from patterns I'd looked at, down the path to infinity scarftown.  Patterns are great, don't get me wrong!  But sometimes the fun part about making things, rather than buying them, is that they can sort of take shape around the recipient.  You know how every once in a while you meet someone and their name doesn't suit them?  You think "Oh, she is NOT a Brenda!"  Well, I feel that way about patterns sometimes.  They're all well and good, but if they don't look like the person who will be wearing them, well, it ain't right!  So, finally, I decided to go fully custom with this one.  It was the right choice.  Let the journey begin.

 For starters, my first "provisional cast-on", Bay-beeeeees!  Beginning by knitting your first row of stitches into a crocheted chain (that you will later unzip and remove)  allows you to go back in the end and pick up your starter stitches to bind them off with the end row.  No sewing!  Woot!  

     Being-as-though my buddy can rock an argyle sock with the best of 'em (two, even!), I decided that an argyle scarf would be prudent, as well.  Because, let's face it, one can never have too much of a good thing going.  

     All it took was a strategic plan for where to swap out the knit stitch for a purl to create the argyle look.  Once that was done, we were ready to rock&roll.  I love it when a plan comes together! (A-team style.)

      There she is (left), blocked and drying, and reminding me a little of the opening sequence of a Star Wars film from this angle...

I've chosen NOT to show you a picture of the finished product on MY neck for two reasons:

1.  Y'all have already seen entirely too much of my mug on this blog.  

-and-

2.  The aforementioned friend is a spectacular photographer.  I am honored by the fact that this scarf made one of his recent shoots, and you should really check it out there instead.  Sam (with the help of his lovely friend Shannon) makes it look far better than I ever could!  So.  I beseech you to follow the link below and see how great it looks there. :)  And then continue perusing Sam's work, because it is just wonderful.  This gun's for hire, kids.  Tell your friends.  ;)

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=232719433528750&set=a.140558782744816.36378.123860371081324&type=1&theater

Pictures come alive, you can dance right through your life.

It is a requirement to quote Flashdance when delving into this next topic.

On that note, I'm just gonna say it.  I LOVE leg warmers.  They are so rad.  People don't wear enough leg warmers these days.

These lovely lady leg warmers were commissioned as a Christmas gift for the sister of a friend of mine.  Burnt Red/Deep Orange and Cream.  Of the over-the-boot/little-bit-slouchy persuasion.  They're pretty crush worthy.  I can't wait until you meet them walking down the street one day.

Red - a world about to dawn!

Black - the night that ends at last! - Les Miserables

So.  Fun.  The request here was for red/black, in this previously pioneered styling.  Knucks exposed.  I like to put them in the category of "mHandies" (man+handies).  You see, Ashley and I primarily like to call fingerless mittens "handies."  (When not in the presence of Ashley, you will typically hear me refer to them as 'ninja mitts'...I know, it's all very confusing.)  With these being a little shorter, they just look a titch less cozy and a smack more hardcore to me.  Rugged-ish.  You know, for those times you want to haul out and punch someone in the eye sans knitted cushioning buffer, but you still want to be warm and comfortable whilst you put the hurt on.*

"Red - the blood of angry men!
Black - the dark of ages past!"
            - Les Miserables (reprised, but in reverse order) :)  

*Disclaimer:  My violent side is only in jest.  I do not actually condone you go punching unsuspecting (or suspecting, for that matter) folks in the eye.  Nor do I think all folks of the Male persuasion are into that sort of thing.  Though they may, as a whole, be a little more rough and tumble, I believe the cross-cultural sampling I've witnessed to be a fairly agreeable and even-keeled lot.  It's the chicks you want to watch out for.  (j/k!)  There, I believe I've covered my bases.  ;)

Young man, full of big plans and thinkin' about tomorrow...

...young man, gonna make a stand.  You beg, you steal, you borrow. -Ray LaMontagne

But, sometimes, you also barter.

I was at the home of some good friends over the holiday season.  The Mulberry House, to be precise.  The lady of the house had been gifted a particular chair, with a particular charm, for which she had no need.  She jokingly said to me:  "You want that chair, right?"  To which I responded a little too decidedly: "No."  Time went by, and over the course of the day, I found myself courting the chair.  We sat together, we knit, we experienced delightful conversation over scones and tea with our friends.  A bond was formed.  After leaving, still insisting I didn't want to take the chair home with me, I went on my merry way and endeavored to put the chair out of my mind.  Turns out the darn thing weaseled its way into my affections over the course of a solitary morning and I wound up texting Ashley to let her know that (much to her surprise) I did want that chair.  Like, a lot.  You see, when I was quite young, my Grandma Alva had a chair like this in her home.  Warms my heart and brings back good memories of playing with her trinkets and sliding down the stairs for hours with my sisters and our cousins.  My wonderful mama has set to work re-upholstering it for me.  It's on its way to being grandma chic, just like me, now!


Anyhoot, being disinclined (as I am) to take without some give, Ophelia and I struck a sweet deal over the matter.  You see, homegirl was in need of something to warm her lovely little lady paws.  For the winter months, mild as they were at the time, were upon us.  And, knowing South Dakota, the threat of mitten weather was imminent.  With gladness, I set out to warm the hands of this adorable child in exchange for my chair.  I'm told she never complains to don them.  Knowing the nature of the childrens of this age to resist being bogged down by such things (coats, hats, mittens - they're all the enemy in our formative years, eh?), this is the highest praise for which I could hope.  XO, O-town!

 

 Please enjoy the most ludicrous of knitting patterns (left).  We kept forgetting to trace her hand for sizing purposes.  We took a stab at doing things this way for the purpose of scale, quoted The Princess Bride ("Think it'll work?" "It would take a miracle.") and were on our way.  Turns out it worked!  Booyah, grandma.  

To shave-a da face, to cut-a da hair...

...require a grace, require da flare. -The Contest (Sweeney Todd)

I took me a break from the Owl Mitt Mania to knit up a hat for a friendly.  After shopping around ('cause my momma told me I better shop around) for the design awhile among the ideas mingling in my brainspace, I settled on this.  A moustache to warm a melon.  Yes, I have a bad habit of starting a project only to change my mind down the road a ways.  After tearing out and starting over a few times, the world is generally a better place, though.  So, a knitwit's gotta do what a knitwit's gotta do.

Funny story about that.  The friend I gifted this to has a wonderful grandmother.  She is hilarious.  She is adorable.  She has all the good attributes that wonderful grandmothers have.  In abundance.  I'm sure you know the type.  Anyway, I was lucky enough to meet her at the cinema a while back.  My friend had been showing her a couple things that I had knit, this hat included, "back at the ranch" before the fam ventured out to take a stroll through Middle Earth (See The Hobbit, kids.  Just quit refusing to see The Hobbit, already).  When I was introduced to said wonderful grandmother as "The Knitter", her response was:  "Well, better that than a nitwit!"  She ain't no nitwit, herself.  More of a quick-wit, really.  I want to be just like her.  I've said it before, I'll say it again, grandmas are the bomb.

Anyway, here's the finished product, folks.  A hat very appropriate for the head on which it resides from time-to-time, during days in which the winter winds of our fine state are alive and well and freezing the marbles right out of the melons that are not fortunate enough to have a moustached hat perched upon them.

Moustache on the front.

A little slouchy with a pair of specs on the flip.  

She wanna start all over, want a shiny clean slate.

Alternate lyrical title:  "It takes two to make a thing go right."

The past couple months have been spent with so much yarn occupying the general vicinity of my fingertips that I (forgive me, please) have not allowed them time to strike the keys, so to speak.  I can no longer convince myself that I am the only one who noticed that I kicked off this blog and then basically took an immediate hiatus, as I have now had two lovely friends inquire with a general:  "What gives?"  Well, your polite cries have been heard, my friends.  Thanks for "making a thing go right."  I live to please, so let's ride this recap together, eh?  Get ready to be blogged, knitwear!

So.  Let's "kick this pig", as my friend John always says (Literally, that's all he ever says!  What's with that? j/k) with a myriad of owl mitts.  Yes, that one little instagram photo back in October led to many pairs of knitted owls in all shapes/sizes/colors.  Here are the highlights.  Each a little different, in their own right.  Variety is the spice of life.  Six of one, half a dozen of the other.  *Insert other cliche' remarks here*

Now, there's a mitt of a different color.  (please, save the thanks for my hiatus b/c it saved you from many endless days of my posting "today, I knit this same thing but in THIS color"...I feel your thanks.  I accept them.  We can forgo the formalities.) ;)

Now that you have had your eye-fill of owl mitts, a side note.  I sometimes find it charming to knit yarn off of a "hank", as modeled by my little helper, Ophelia.  Yes, the twisty yarns you see sometimes in fancier yarn shops are called "hanks" of yarn.  Isn't that endearing?  I love it.  Though, this is not a customary practice (you're supposed to use a machine and get the yarn into the traditional "skein" format before you use it), there is something about wearing your yarn as a necklace and having to unwrap it around your head each go-round that I can't resist.  I think it just makes me feel more "at one" with the yarn.  And also the sheep who provided it.  Is that wrong?  Well, if it is, I don't wanna be right.