I have such fun when the pictures for the new season of Drops patterns are posted, though I’m finding a bit less that charms me this time around than I udually do—but that may be due to my cold or to the nature of summer knits. As a result, I don’t have ten favorites this time, but I have picked out six that I’ll be looking for over the next few months.
l-089 (aren’t those Drops pattern names poetical?):
A cute, simple bag that would work well in any of the organic cotton yarns currently on the market.
0-284
Not really summer wear and the mohair might itch, but definitely worth having a go at in Malabrigo when autumn’s a bit closer.
r-540
A graceful lttle piece.
sa-057
This would look terrible on me, but I think it would be great fun to knit.
sa-056
This one I can definitely imagine wearing.
z-416
Ok—this would make many women look like linebackers, but wouldn’t it beit knida cool on the right person?
I administered a writing placement test and a portfolio evaluation for several hundred students this past weekend, tomorrow is my last teaching day for winter quarter, and Friday morning I leave on a family trip to Washington, D.C., after which I will return to determine grades and write narrative evaluations. So, why am I still at the office at 7 p.m. when I should be home packing? Because I suddenly felt compelled to arrange all the items in my Ravelry queue by project type.
After much clicking and shifting back and forth among pages, the cardigans are all together, the shawls are all together, the socks are all together, the baby clothes are all together. I did manage to stop with an initial sorting rather than going on to fine-tuning (swing jackets with swing jackets, curve-hemmed cardigans with curve-hemmed cardigans, etc.), but you know that’s coming.
I’m hoping to manage one small post tomorrow morning with my latest FO, then I’m leaving Melissa in charge of things until my return. She’s got a few tricks up her sleeve—so stay tuned.
*****
P.S. Please join me in fervently hoping that the whole Beatrice/Penny situation won’t go all Lord of the Flies in my absence. I would like to find three cats with four legs and two ears each upon my return.
In response to a bidding war between Steven Spielberg and Ron Howard for the rights to their life stories, Melissa and I have been considering appropriate casting of actors to portray the cats. Here’s what we have so far.
Archy:
We’ve had no problem thinking of actors suited to playing Archy. The only problem is that they’re all dead, so they may not be current on their SAG dues. Archy feels that Rudolph Valentino would do him justice and could capture the seductive charms he so devastatingly employs on throw pillows. Melissa and I (with a different perspective on his—ahem!—pillow-wooing) feel Maurice Chevalier might be more appropriate.
Beatrice:
Yes, she’s beautiful (and affectionate in her own let-me-keep-you-at-a-healthy-distance sort of way). But she’s also skittish, vengeful, and difficult. We know the perfect actor: Christina Ricci.
Maggie:
No doubt about it: given her woozle-y ways Maggie simply must be played by Queen Latifah. Who else could do her justice?
Damian:
Once you’ve seen him in action, you know there’s only one actor who can capture the energy, the intensity, the ridiculosity that is Damian. We’re holding out for Will Ferrell, and will settle for no-one else.
Penny:
Finding the right actress to portray Penny may be challenging as she’s such a complex personality. With people, she’s tender-hearted and cautious, but goes all lovey-mushy once she decides there’s no threat. With other cats—well, as far as she’s concerned, the threat never goes away. She’s ever-vigilant, alternating between cowering beneath furniture and near pyrotechnic displays of the ancient (and deadly and noisy) art of opera-fu. Having given the matter careful consideration, we’re pretty sure recent Oscar-winner Tilda Swinton is up to the task.
Sparky:
This calls for an actor with range. Yes, he needs a pretty face, but he also needs to be able to portray everything from leonine repose to why-would-the-neighbors-get-a-kitten-when-they-have-me-to-entertain? uncertainty. We know just the actor. He’s played a caveman, an archaeologist/adventurer, a hunky gardener, a 1950s naif, a district attorney, and more. Our candidate? Brendan Fraser.
Who know what our lives will be like once filming is underway? We’ll be overwhelmed by stylists and entourages and relaxation specialists and specialty chefs who know a thousand ways to grill a goldfish. But if Sam Lutfi comes knocking? We’re not opening the door.
Recently, Melissa sent me a postcard with this admirable sentiment…
And on the reverse…
Top to bottom: Penny, Sparky, Beatrice, Damian, Archy, Maggie. I can assure you that she has achieved a remarkable likeness in every case.
Do you recognize the models for these Blogiversary Raffle buttons?
Here’s Beatrice, blending mysteriously into the fabric of the time-space continuum.
That’s her patented just-because-you-feed-me-doesn’t-mean-I-trust-you glare.
And this is our dear, departed Woody, doing his bit to help out the kitties who haven’t yet crossed over the rainbow bridge.
This picture is a detail from one of Melissa’s lino-block prints. While hiking across northern Spain during the fall ‘06, she drew a little sketch of what she imagined life would be like with me along on the journey: a knapsack full of yarn and playful kittens bounding about alongside me. (If you win the print part of the drawing, the full picture is one of the three you can choose among. Meanwhile, you can see it here.)
Do help yourself to a button (or two!) if you’d like. If you want to link back to the Blogiversary Raffle rules, use this address
Here in California it’s rain rain raining, and the cats are thoroughly disgusted, both with the weather and the prospect of all being in the house at the same time.
Luckily, they received a very thoughtful Christmas gift from Sarah-Hope’s nephew. Beatrice is delighted with fleece-on-a-stick, and is taking out her cabin fever energy in chasing and killing it.
Melissa and I celebrated the holiday a bit late, on Saturday, instead of Thursday. We also celebrated simply with a roast chicken, black-eyed pea and veggie salad, pineapple couscous, and a pomegranate for dessert.
The cats celebrated in their own way—particularly when they got the leftover fat and organs from the chicken. Each of them had much to be thank Bastet for.
Bea was thankful for what hadn’t happened every bit as much as she was thankful for what had: another year gone by without me murdering her—though the fact that I haven’t done it yet doesn’t mean she’ll let her guard down. She also has a whole list of things she’d like to be thankful for, such as Penny getting struck by lightening.
Sparky gave thanks for the stick end of his feather-on-a-stick toy. As far as he’s concerned, the feather is pointless—but the stick is a source of endless amusement. He also gave thanks for the bipedal “kittens” next door who love to play with him and are willing to trail a stick along the ground for hours on end so he can pounce, pounce, pounce. Finally, he gave thanks for the delight that is puff-in-the-catnip-canister, which he can kill-kill-kill, only to have it retreat back into the canister and be resurrected a day or two later for more kill-kill-killing.
Penny gave thanks for a home that is not a drainage ditch.
Archy gave thanks for soft things to knead against, like the feather comforter; the lycra-covered, stryrafoam-pellet-filled pillow shaped like a baseball; and Melissa’s basoomas.
Maggie was thankful for babies (aka hair ties) to tote about and give swimming lessons to, as well as the oddly lick-able television remote.
Damian felt he had the grandest thing of all to be thankful for: that he is himself. What could be better?
Bea and Penny have formed an Opera Club. Its meetings tend to be impromptu: Bea suddenly meets Penny coming around a corner or Penny trots upstairs to find Bea stretched out on the bedroom floor. Then the singing begins! We have coloratura, we have arpeggios, we have leitmotifs, and—of course—we have diva-histrionics galore.
The other night, even my neighbors were out to hear the Opera Club. Unfortunately, the concert was abruptly cancelled due to artistic differences.
I have suggested to Bea and Penny that perhaps a nice folk music sing-along would be easier to manage than all those arias, but they just glared at me with eyes that knew me for the cretin I am.
“You could try Kum By Ya,” I offered.
“Loser!,” said Bea.
“Boring!,” said Penny.
“That song’s for kittens who are too stupid to sing anything else!,” they both cried.
But later that evening, I caught Bea doing air guitar and singing to herself:
Penny’s breathing, Lord, strike her dead.
Penny’s breathing, Lord, strike her dead…
I’m afraid this may be a visually boring week, as Melissa and I didn’t get together and I wasn’t able to take advantage of her artist’s eye and digital camera. She’s painting like crazy for a show she has coming up in Mill Valley that will feature her landscapes. Meanwhile, I spent the weekend here in Santa Cruz, assisting with negotiations among the members of my newly expanded cat household. We still have some hissing going on, but it’s getting much more pro forma. Saturday night, I imagined writing up minutes: “Let the record state that Bea wanted to sniff Sparky’s butt, but Sparky objected, tabling the activity until an unspecified date. On at least sixteen occasions, Penny raised the issue of not being allowed outside, repeatedly labeling Sarah-Hope’s references to her stitches [the vet found out the hard way she'd already been spayed] irrelevant.”
I wish that I could show you my lovely Wrapped in Comfort malabrigo shawl. I worked on it Friday night at a stitch-along at The Golden Fleece. The owners had the swatches out for the entire malabrigo line, which was both thrilling and frustrating: thrilling because I could touch everything, but frustrating because the swatches are so short they don ‘t really give a clear sense of any of the colorways. In a masterful enabling ply, Carol, one of the owners, said, “I can get you all the malabrigo you want. Just give me a list of the colors and how many skeins of each.” Oh, it will be a long list, I can tell you that, but I have made a promise to myself that I will not hand off the list to Carol until I have saved the money to pay for the yarn when it comes in. Meanwhile, I will be visiting the malabrigo web site and drooling uncontrollably (the cats may have to start wearing little Wellies).
Drops Designs has some great new (free!) patterns up. This cardigan looks comfy as all get-out, and I appreciate the complete absence of areas of stockingette wasteland. This jacket is a bit longer than I’d like (and the bustline bobbles have to go), but again cozy, cozy, cozy—and decorative enough to dress up or down. And here’s a pretty little shrug.
Take a minute to check out the Turkish Delight Hat at Black Purl. The genius of Donna Druchunas’s design is that she’s taken a traditional mitten pattern and transformed it into a hat, which opens up all kinds of possibilities for those of us who are “thumb phobic” (or just too lazy to work a thumb). I may soon be wearing Hello Yarn’s squirrel mittens on my head.
