Holiday Greeting

My Christmas season is about loving my real family. There may be some debate about the definition.

Family is the hours spent and the care.

Here is part of my family. Beautiful girls in matching beige coats.

The Little Korea festive tiger by Christie Pits.

The Hat That Wasn't

A skein of Bartlettyarns wool in a beautiful berry tone has been in my stash since January 2013. I purchased it at VK Live in New York so, even though it is a reliable and economical wool (read not trendy), it had a special place in my heart. I had always intended it to be winter hat.

Apparently, the yarn had other ideas.

A few months ago I cast on a pattern only to frog a few weeks later because of bad results. Then last month, I cast on yet another beret, the same Paton's pattern I've made a half dozen times before. I finished quickly; seamed and blocked it in a flash, only to discover that the finished product was mysteriously HUGE. Rip again.

So, last week, I started once again. I made the necessary adjustments for the aran weight of the yarn and it was all going so well... 
Then last night, while Christmas shopping I discovered that my knitting had at some point, leaped out of my shopping bag. I retraced my steps to every place I had visited in the previous hour but to no avail. It is gone forever.

This yarn really did not want to live life as my new hat. It took a good set of needles with it.

So here is a sneak peak at The Daughter's gift instead. A simple cowl that gave me no trouble whatever.

Another Three by One. Done, Done, Done.

Such a simple and satisfying sock. Good old three by one rib does the trick again. Now on to that holiday deadline crunch.

It Turns Out That

Post As Much As You Can means not very much at all. Well, that`s OK.

Last night after dinner we were sitting at the table when a song comes on. James Taylor - one I`d never heard before. He declared he loved it and turned it up. Proceeded to sing how he feels well when I`m around while I lay my head on the table and tried not to weep like a sentimental fool. When I raised my head, his eyes too, were full of tears.
"You`re a hard hearted Hannah," he says.

Triolet

Confide in the darkness that inspires
Like death. Breath whitens the winter panes.
In streets below your window, fallen wires
Confide in the darkness that inspires.
Night is vital. Void desires
Return to soil like dead-end lanes.
Confide in the darkness that inspires
Like death. Breath whitens the winter panes.

Steven Heighton
Exile The Literary Quarterly  
Vol 18, 1994

Mystery Solved

What luck. What a coincidence!

We received a new shipment of sock yarn at the store the other day.

"This looks familiar!" I said to myself, eyeing the Ancient Arts. It is definitely the mystery yarn with which I've been making my latest socks. I remember it looking exactly like this on the skein all those years ago. And, now that I think of it, the word "Art" was in the name. 

As it turns out, I was mistaken in recalling silk. This yarn is merino wool with nylon. It just feels like silk.