Neapolitan Shawl

For various reasons I have been unable to post a photo of my first major foray into knitting in fifteen years. This is the stole shawl that spawned an obsession, dear readers.

I have known E. for many years and she is one of my closest friends. She turned forty in February and I was unable to celebrate the big FOUR-OH with her. I found some yarn. I started knitting. I finished. I loved it.

It is very fitting that I'd be knitting a Neapolitan coloured shawl for someone who has insisted on trying out various desserts on me before serving them for the rest of her friends: "So, Karie, do you prefer the lemon meringue pie or the chocolate bread pudding? Or maybe the frozen Cointreau mousse?" At least my gift won't wreak havoc on her waistline.

In related news, I like the look of Twist Collective, I saw a designer in person the other day and opted out of saying hello and I have bought my own weight in thin 2-ply wool. I'm also still sunburnt.

I Thought Turkey Was The In-Flight Meal

A family who were bound for a week's holiday in Lanzarote are back home after a check-in desk mix-up meant they caught a flight to Turkey instead. (..) Mr Coray said they had not realised their mistake because their boarding pass stated only Bodrum airport and not that it was in Turkey.
(source)

On a vaguely similar note, try your American news IQ. The interesting bit is actually at the end where you can see the demographic make-up of results.

The other night the land-line phone rang and a tiny boyish voice said "im goin be big brotha". Yes, I'm going to be an auntie again. This time it feels even bigger than the first time. One of my best friends is also going to become a mother. This calls for Auntie Bookish to surf the net for things to knit, obviously.

My partner's sister and my friend may never speak to me again, of course:
(if this is your creation, let me know so I can give you credit for being a genius)

What Do You Mean By "It's Only July"?

The first family request for a Christmas wish list usually pops up about a month after my birthday. I'm a February child. Lately I've found myself asking my Other Half what he wants for his birthday. His birthday is in November. I suppose we all try to be different from our parents and none of us succeed.

But I usually hate writing wish lists whether they be for my birthday or for Christmas. Last year was a classic case of Ms Bookish trying desperately to think of things that could easily be sent by mail, was difficult to confuse with anything else* and that would not just gather dust. So, I asked for plain table cloths, a mascara and a Danish film. I didn't end up with any of these things, of course.

(* I remember one year I asked for a tiny saucepan because I was a poor student with foodie tendencies. I got a huge stew-pot instead because I "needed that much more". I put it next to my other two stew-pots. No, it was impossible to exchange it for the tiny saucepan; stew-pot came straight from my auntie A's cookery stash)

This year will be different. I have signed up for Wist which apparently helps you organise cool things you see online (it would be extra useful if I could remember my password). I have bought a notebook where I keep track of lust objects and when my mother finally pleads for a wish list (this month? next month?), I shall mail her one with well-organised, colour-coded items I would absolutely love.

Here's a little preview of my two-page long list:
+ Merino/silk yarn from Nimu
+ Icelandic shawl pattern & yarn
+ Knitted Lace of Estonia - Nancy Bush
+ Addi knitting needles: 3mm, 4mm, 5mm ..

Huzzah for new, exciting hobby and all the exciting things that overseas family can easily send me! Huzzah! Christmas cannot come soon enough - and I think it's the first time in my adult life that I've said that.

Look Wot I Made..

This is my first major lace work (bar two projects we shall not mention) and I'm actually pretty happy with it despite my overly critical eye. The pattern is called "Swallowtail" and it's a nice little shawl. It was knitted in lovely DROPS Alpaca (which is available in Danish yarn shops, hint hint!). The second lace pattern from the top was supposed to have tiny "knots" but they were omitted because I decided they looked like fuzzy brambles.

The shawl pin is a silver replica of a Bronze Age shawl pin found in a bog close to where I grew up. E. gave it to me as a token of love and friendship when I moved from Denmark. I think of her every time I wear it.

I also realise that I have actually posted a picture of myself on my blog for the first time in.. well, the seven years I have been blogging (bar the profile photo, of course). I have been hesitant in showing my face to the world but I'm figuring that most of my readers nowadays* will either know me offline or have me friended on Facebook. Besides, since my blog stalker experience** I have realised that no matter how hard I try to keep myself fairly anonymous, people can and will find out personal details.. So, yes, say hello to my face (and the lovely lace shawl).

* Ah, my hotshot literary blogger days are long gone..
** surely I have mentioned this before? Let's just say the police were involved.

Webs We Weave

How badly do I want this uppercase scarf? Pretty badly, I tell you. The scarf led me on a typographic journey of the net which yielded new interesting sites: the & Blog, Bembo's Zoo which is seriously cool, FontStruct which lets you design your own (very basic) typefaces, and, er, The Swedish Furniture Name Generator.

Hey, I can't be all arty and intellectual all the time!

How about A.S. Byatt on textiles, textures and texts, then? It marries all my loves: books, texts, literary theory and, ahem, yarn.

Sleeping Beauty pricks her finger on a spindle, the Lady of Shalott is entwined in thread, Silas Marner is enclosed in his loom - why have spinning and sewing so often been associated with danger and isolation? (..) We think of our lives - and of stories - as spun threads, extended and knitted or interwoven with others into the fabric of communities, or history, or texts.

The Dark Side

I'm hand-dyeing yarn right now.

Edit: Modus Operanti: First, I soaked a hank of merino laceweight yarn for about forty minutes in lukewarm water. While it was soaking, I mixed green food dye with a touch of blue food dye into about two pints of water. I added citric acid as a fixing agent. I heated up the dyeing solution in an old stovetop pot. When it was very warm (but not boiling), I took the soaked yarn and gently put it into the warm dye. The idea is not to agitate the yarn because agitated yarn = felt. I let the yarn simmer for about 35 minutes until I saw the liquid running clear. I turned off the heat and let it cool for ten minutes. The yarn was rinsed gently in very warm water as temperature shock would cause the yarn to felt. And now the yarn's drip-drying, huzzah!

Proper instructions here.

I'm reserving judgement on the end result but at least the merino's no longer pale yellow-green..