Cute!

I picked up a half dozen knitting leaflets at a used book store the other day (including these adorable, if somewhat comical, sockettes). The thing that bugs me is that some of them are food stained inside. Other people's food smudges always gross me out - like in lbrary books. Eeeww!
Not only that, but how did the original owner manage to knit with foody fingers?

A Pretty Object

Signs Of The Former Tenant

Whatever she did all day

it wasn't housework

the lady downstairs says

the kids were always filthy

it takes me a day to remove

their fingeprints from the walls

and hours of scrubbing before

the tub gives up its dead-cell scum

and the oven is free of grease

even the smell is stubborn

windows open for days against

dirty diapers and stale food

The place is liveable now at least

though some things can't be fixed

the broken latch on the bedroom door

and the worn pattern of the tile

from the kitchen sink to the front window

where just at eye-level

faint smudges cling

like breath clouds

sobs imprisoned in glass

Bronwen Wallace

Signs of The Former Tenant

Oberon Press 1983

I Don't Have To...

Yes I am knitting. I've completed the toddler hat and the back of the sweater for Dulaan. I keep telling myself that I have to take pictures and post these things.
Wait a minute. Who says I have to? The fact is, I haven't done it because I've told myself I should and hence, no longer feel like it. By putting these demands on myself, I have turned my hobby, blogging, into a chore. Hello! It's supposed to be fun!

This is a theme with which I have been struggling for about a year now. We do not have to do anything (except die). Every single action we make, as adults, is a personal choice. It's very difficult to really get this but once you do, it changes everything. My first objection to this idea was "But, I have to feed my child." The response was "No you don't. You choose to feed her because you love her." How much more positive that sounds and feels. Allowing oneself choice also means sometimes choosing not to do something. I hate doing dishes, really hate it. So I choose not to do them as often. If the husband doesn't do them that night (usually he does but not always), this means dirty dishes on the counter until the next day. I can live with that if it means more time to knit. My choice.
Neat stuff. Another way I've heard it put is "Stop 'shoulding' all over yourself. Old habits are hard to break so, yes, I catch myself 'shoulding' still. At least I notice it now. It's all part of the journey.

So, a pictureless post with no knitting content. My blog, my choice. Pictures will come, when the photography urge is there, I will snap all my wee projects.

PS: Knitters may take over the world. Muahahaha...

Baby It's Cold Outside

Dulaan Sweater Pattern Chosen

Cute isn't it.

Looks simple enough so it should be a fast knit. I found it in a back issue of Family Circle Easy Knitting. There are several sweet children's projects in sizes 2 through 8 in this particular mag if anyone else is planning a sweater. Great stash busters, these.

Current Subway Knitting

I've started another Broadripple using Patons KroySocks in Winter Eclipse. How I enjoy working this pattern. It's varied enough to keep it interesting yet simple enough to do while looking around.
Beyond the subway, I'm almost done a toddler hat for the Dulaan Project. I've also chosen a child's sweater pattern for the project that will perfectlly use up all the leftover yarn from The Daughter vest. I've yet to cast on though. Tzarina has been banished to the basket temporarily awaiting tweaking and severe blocking. It hangs funny and may or may not be a total disaster.



Check out these lovely sweaters. I recently purchased a photocopy of a 1920's knitting book that is full of flapper treasures. Such a comfortable era in woman's garments. Everything flowed and there wasn't the bother of wiry foundation pieces. Isn't it interesting that the war brought back girdles and stiff bras? I wonder why that is?
Unfortunately for me, the bottom right sweater, which is my favourite, turns out to be crocheted. Guess who's hopeless at crochet?