knit and tonic

Why Would You Knit Socks When You Can . . ?

I told myself that I wouldn't ever do this (buy see-through shoes), but I did. I could resist those see-through clogs. I could resist those see-through lace-up boots. I could even resist those see-through jelly sandals that you wouldn't normally wear socks with. I could resist them because I used to have some and they make your feet sweat and make squishy sounds when you walk.

But today I saw these and next thing I knew I was asking the girl for a Ladie's size eight and tried them on. Not bad, not bad at all, I thought as I walked up and down the aisle in the shoe store. Then, to the girl, I said, "You know what? I wonder if they make these see-through Chuck Taylor's so the knitters can show off their hand-knit socks. I know a lot of knitters who wear these type shoes so they can enjoy their handy work."

"Oh, so you knit?" She asked.

"Yes, I do!" I replied.

And, without skipping a beat, she reached over and pulled a packet of colorful socks off the wall. "You can get five pair of these for only six bucks with a purchase of those see-through shoes. You want some?"

I shot back: "Why would I want to buy those colorful socks when I can knit them myself?"

She blinked.

I blinked.

She blinked again.

"So would you rather buy some white socks? We have two styles and they're Buy Two Get One Free. . ."

BTW: After a three-day run of writer's/knitter's block I have decided that I will not do any "work" knitting or writing over the weekend. Instead, I shall make some socks for my new shoes. I can't believe how long I have gone without finishing a pair of socks! I'll use this Claudia Hand Painted in Blue Ridge from Kpixie.com (just noticed it's on sale, by the way).

Also, here's a reminder that if you're in the Los Angeles area on June 6, I'll be at the Knit Culture/Knitter's Studio from 2-5 p.m for a book signing. Stop in and say hi!

ETA: Here is where you can check for availability at a particular store. I tried Zappos, but no luck. So looky here.

Ease: The Rant Continues

That was interesting. All the discussion about swatching. Funny, I get oodles of comments from people who swear by swatching, or a few comments from people who admit that they don't swatch but say when their sweaters don't fit they understand that they varied from the gauge. Yet, on a particular forum there must be several hundred knitters cheerfully shouting that they never do a gauge swatch.

Not that this particular slice of the knitting community really represents the average sweater knitter, that's for sure, but come on! Don't brag about it!

Which brings me to the Subject of Ease.

I'm no expert, shoot, I've only been knitting for about six years, but the people who sew garments out of cloth probably have way more to say about the subject of ease than I do. Knits are meant to stretch, so when we discuss ease, or at least to my mind, we are talking about "fit," or "drape," and not necessarily the amount of extra space one would need in order to lift their arms or squat without splitting a seam or something.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This is just a blog post.

What I want to say about ease and to answer many requests from knitters who want me to list ease on my patterns, like the model's size and the amount of ease that is shown on the garment the model is wearing is, sorry. No can do. At least not in the way you want me to. Because, if I did, next thing I know, the doorbell would ring and 16,000 knitters would be out there, waving lit torches at me and threatening to take Girlfriend away to a commune or worse, a particular yarn store I know that has every single skein of yarn sealed in plastic bags.

The only possible way to produce such a measurement or whatever you call it, would be to design and knit for a particular person. A particular person who meets the exact criteria of, say, some set of guidelines (like a "Yarn Council," for example) and who has the exact measurements of a size "medium," and that means she must also have a set of arms with an exact Standard measurement, a back waist measurement that is exactly "to code," and all the other nonsense that goes along with it. Then, you'd have to measure the amount of ease you want for each part of the garment, the bust, which is obvious, and then know that because this particular "perfect-to Blah Blah Yarn Council Standards" model will represent the tunic as a tunic length because a tunic length is exactly 6 or more inches longer than her back waist measurement.

But it gets even worse: When one writes a book, she does not know who the models will be. She does not know their sizes. She does not know if they are exact replicas of, say, size "medium" on the Blah Blah Yarn Council Standard sizes in every way imaginable. (Remember: We designers are strongly encouraged to design to Yarn Standard Council "code.")

So when it comes time to shoot the pics for a book, we have to try to represent the sweaters as they are meant to fit. That means sometimes one needs to pin something together here or there. BUT, a good stylist (and having the designer on set helps) will be sure not to create shaping where there is none, i.e., a boxy sweater that suddenly becomes a spray-painted-on spandex suit.

This is what I say about ease: Look at the schematic. That is your only clue that will not mislead you. Know your measurements. Know how you like things to fit. I can agree that a designer can suggest a certain amount of negative or positive ease; that might help. But to say that the model is a certain size and that the sweater is a certain size and that there is negative ease here but positive ease there would create even worse confusion.

If I told you how many emails I have received with questions about bra-band sizing and how they relate to the size of the sweater you'd be astounded. I do not design bras. I can only wonder what would happen if I start saying: "Model in picture has a 36-inch bust and 28-inch waist. Her lovely hips are a waif-like 34. This pattern is knit with 1-inch negative ease in the bust, none in the waist, and negative 2 inches in the hips! Happy Knitting!"

You cannot tell how a sweater will fit you based on a picture, even with explicit ease measurements. No way.

Imagine if you have an apple-shaped body and have a chest circumference of 40 inches, AND 2 inches negative ease in the chest area is suggested. Unless you pay careful attention, you'll end up with a lovely fitted sweater on the top half of your body. Your bottom half, well, let's just say that you'll be able to see the outlines of your belly button. For what it's worth, the Yarn Council Standards say that a person with a size 40 chest has 32 - 34-inch waist and 42 - 44-inch hips. Those of you who have a 40-inch chest, I dare you to go measure your waist and your hips. I will put money on it that many of you will not be to "Standard."

I wonder if it would be helpful to create some sort of "cheat sheet" for knitters. You know, the kind where you plug in your measurements, the amount of looseness you want here or there and then the measurements from a schematic to see where you will need to customize. Hmmmm.

What we did this weekend:

If You Want it to Fit . . .

Whenever someone asks my favorite LYS person the probably-most-often-asked question in the knitting world, other than "Can I substitute this yarn for that yarn?" or "Why do people knit socks? You can buy them at Target for cheaper..."

She replies, without looking up, "If you want your sweater to fit, yes, you need to knit a swatch."

Most people grumble when she answers that question that way, but I tell you what, I have seen more sweaters that don't fit than ones that do.

So, the other day, when I received an email from someone asking for me to suggest what size of one of my sweaters to make (without telling me what her measurements are, mind you) and mentioning, in the process, that other people had made this particular sweater and it didn't fit them so even though she really, really loves what I do, and my book and all the other stuff, that I needed to give her an idea of what size to knit and some tips because she didn't want to end up with a sweater that didn't fit.

If I weren't so damn polite, I wouldn't have answered the email because honestly, hasn't anyone ever considered looking at a schematic, take note of their own measurements with an understanding of how they like things to fit and knit the sweater to gauge....So it fits?

I pay good money for someone to make me those nifty schematics. Sure, I could, like in the old days, just draw one and scan it and make an image out of it, but no, I pay someone good money to make me a very technically savvy schematic. Plus, the measurements on the schematic aren't willy nilly numbers I just throw out there. The numbers on the schematic correlate almost exactly to the gauge in terms of stitches and rows. That's right. Almost exactly.

I say almost exactly because you wouldn't want to know if the circumference of the sleeve at its largest point is, oh, 13.352" around. That is why you sometimes see 13.25" or 13.5" instead.

And I don't mean to rant. I really don't mean to. But I wrote an entire book about understanding your size, figuring out how to customize a written pattern so that it fits your body the way you want it to, and what do I get? A hundred emails (well, not a hundred, but I get tons) asking: "What size should I knit?"

And most times, the person doesn't mention if they are subbing yarn (that's a BIG reason why things don't work out). They usually don't mention their size, either. Worse, do you know how many people have written: "I'm pretty much the same size as you, so..." How do you know what size I am? All you've seen are pictures of me. Heavily edited photos! So much so, you probably wouldn't recognize me in person! You don't know what size I am! For all you know, I've been borrowing someone else's face and body all these years! I could live in Russia for all you know. Or Greece. Or, somewhere in Wisconsin. You. Have. No. Idea.

Okay. Sorry. Didn't mean to go off on you.

But please read the schematics and make a gauge swatch. And if you don't, would you mind letting me know? Maybe I can skip the schematics and save a few bucks.

BTW: Seeing there are balls all over the joint, you now know how I spent my weekend. If you look very closely you'll see a tiny portion of a frequently quoted LYS character in the background. Enjoy...The balls, not the nude, which I can explain.

Only in Southern California

Well, I suppose it could happen anywhere, but somehow I get in the middle of odd situations and today was no exception.

I visited the male model who impersonates my hip doctor today. He's not particularly punctual, so when I entered the office I wasn't surprised to discover a sea of people on crutches, in casts, some sitting in funny chairs and others in chairs on wheels look up at me forlornly, their dead looks in their eyes telling me it's going to be a loooooooong morning.

Once the crowd began to thin, in walks a tall woman with her mother. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it. She refused to sit down, instead insisting her invalid-ish mother stand with her by the counter until they got a room. The fact that I knew I was next on the list gave me a start because the last thing I wanted was to have this crazed woman and her poor mother get put in front of me and have to wait even longer.

But then I realized who she was, and although the gal must be a good 20-something years older than me, the fact that probably just about every living man in the western world has had a fantasy or two about this woman at some point in their lives made it a forgone conclusion that I was doomed. Doomed! And not because the receptionist was too nice to turn her away and tell her to wait her turn, but because the assistant, the assistant who is actually a male model impersonating a physician's assistant walked into the waiting room, spotted her, and forgot that it was MY file that he had in his hands, and swooped her and her mom out of the room with a flourish.

Never mind I had waited an hour.

Never mind, my hair was brushed and clean. Her's? Don't ask.

Never mind, although I'm sort of plain compared to her in her heyday, I can tell a really good joke and make a decent meal. Not to mention the knitting.

About a half-hour later, I was let into the room next to them. Listen friends, if I had a water glass available I would have stuck it on the wall to hear what was going on, but based on what I could hear with the naked ear, the glass was not needed. She's a nut, plain and simple, (her poor ailing mom couldn't get a word in edgewise), and if it weren't for what I discovered while waiting in the room next to them, I would still be angry right now. Talk about a vast and never ending source of wonder and entertainment. I was almost disappointed when the doctor finally walked into my room.

But onto other things.

HWWV bought me an underwater gadget so I can listen to my iPod while swimming last Christmas. I haven't been able to use it because my hip just hasn't been up to doing laps, but this past weekend I finally got to try it out. It was heaven.

If only they'd figure out how we can knit in the bathtub or while swimming or running or...

Then, we'd be set.

(Except for those washed up so-and-so's cutting in front of the line.)

BTW: A few of you who read this may know who I am talking about. Please do not mention her name in comments!

ETA: Here is a link to the waterproof MP3 players...

When Keeping Turns to Giving

This morning, I finally gave up the dream and decided it was time to clean out my closet. And I'm not talking about your general "get rid of what you no longer wear or what doesn't fit" kind of cleaning. I'm talking about the kind of cleaning out that includes saying good bye to the Real Good Stuff. The stuff you still had hopes of wearing again. The gown that is so smashing that there must be a way to fit it into your repertoire, somehow, some way. The fantastic patent leather crocodile raincoat you spent oodles on and got to wear once or twice. I swooned when I bought it and those around me when I wore it did, too. What was I thinking when I bought it? It doesn't rain much here, at least it tends not to rain when there's an opportunity for fashion.

Other items that no longer hold hope for me include a couple Fendi suit items, a Donna Karan something or other that is sorely out of style, a stack of cashmere sweaters (ditto), a suede coat that still had a nice tube of lipstick in the pocket, and three long dresses I wore for New Years Eve awhile back, one black, one a nice drapey chartreuse on black damask-ish material and a pink satin number I wore while pregnant.

It sorta kills me, doing this, but I figure, I had my fun. Now it is time for a lucky sexy person who shops at the Salvation Army to have some fun, too.

Ha! One could also argue that the person who I think is a lucky, sexy person who will be getting some of my good stuff is actually an out-of-fashion schmuck whose paying a little more than she should on used clothing that's already seen its day. Oh well.

Which reminds me of a conversation I had with the pickle eater the other day. I was telling the gals there about a time that I accidentally threw out (yes, threw out) ALL of my suits for work and a couple items that were absolutely irreplaceable (story another day; it's too painful). She nearly fainted, hearing my tale, and then went into a reverie about these old beaded suits she still had in her closet from eons ago, ones that give her goosebumps even thinking about them (I guess Nancy Reagan wore a similar suit a ways back). Any rate, we all asked her if she'd ever wear them again and she said "never." And we said, "Sell them! Give them away!" "Let someone else enjoy them!"

We couldn't budge her. I reminded her that she will die with those things in her closet. And she said that it was fine with her if someone else has to figure out what to do with them after she's dead, because, dang it, she just likes knowing they are in there, wrapped in loads of plastic.

Do you have that same attitude about your stash?

I read about others' stashes all the time. People collect yarn like crazy and I always wonder if there are any other people like me out there. The kind that figures if they haven't yet knit it after a certain amount of time then it's time to sell it or give it away.

Personally, I am a bit of a hoarder and keeper. But after awhile, the hoarding and keeping gets depressing and it weighs me down. So then I go into a give-away mode.

I guess people will blanch when I say this, but the way I see it is: Its just stuff.

So the Prada goes to the Salvation Army. Some not-so-nice stuff will go along with it too. The eight pair of Gucci loafers I purchased when I used to make loads of money but never wear anymore? They're staying.

(But the Wollmeise? The Posh? The Bugga!? The Koiiiiiiiggguuuuu? They're staying too. For now, at least.)

BTW: An Indie Spinner-Dyer sent me a bag of her wonderful yarn. I haven't yet had a chance to try it out, but from the looks of it, let's just say I'm in love. For now, check out her NewHue Handspuns etsy store. Once I get a chance to knit a few swatches, I'll let you know!

Still, My Heart has Wings

 So we went to my friend Mina's house for a late luncheon sort of thing today. HWWV just came back from an appointment and found the time to join us old gals (Me: oldish, Lin: older, Mina: older than Lin). The men in the room? Except for a few comments about noticing young girls and giving them a thumbs up while they passed the cigar shop or the story about the one day way back when in the doctor's office a nurse said to him, "Hey, you look really good for your age," the men stayed mum.

I don't know. How is it, when women get together, at least in my semi-circle, the subject always turns to age?

I asked Lin and Mina why, in all the yearbooks from my mom's time (about 1958 for high school), the ladies--I mean girls--looked so old? They both said that in those days, the goal was to look sophisticated, older, wiser. These days, heck, at least in my neighborhood, the women would drink out of a baby bottle if they could. Wait: I'm exaggerating. They'd use a sippy cup, instead. The ones with the no drip, orthodontist-recommended spouts that don't leach plastic fumes.

What is it about aging and avoiding aging? I know, I know, it isn't the same in all the cities or states or countries, but wow. I'm so obsessed, today, I actually announced to a group of people--a small group of people--that I would most definitely get my eyes done or my neck done, but other parts I wouldn't do.

Then someone said, "I had my lower lids done and about a year later, the fat grew back."

Then I said, "Can you believe, my mom had her eyes done and I didn't recognize her after that?"

And HWWV said: "Yeah, she must've had a really crappy surgeon."

And I said, "But he was supposed to be the best in the business."

Then, everything went quiet, we had a collective sigh, looked down, nodded a lot, and said "yeah," and sipped a bit of fancy Italian sparkling wine. Later, we ate Braunschweiger. The kind by Oscar Meyer. We also had some other really nice stuff, including two kinds of Camembert, but somehow that Braunschweiger stands out.

Even though I feel sad sometimes, I know everything will be okay.

Turning to knitting: I have to say, in spite of the fact that I prefer to knit top down and seamless, it presents a few obstacles, just like knitting the other way. I am challenging myself to knit a lace jacket out of this wonderful yarn, but I have cast on and re-knit so many times I can't believe I haven't done something drastic.

It'll happen soon, though. Meaning, I'tll be finished. I just need to figure out how to place the provisional cast on back on my needles and finish the fronts without disrupting the lace pattern. If I get too frustrated, I'll just add an inch of stockinette and call it a "design element."

Everything Old is New Again - The Somewhat Cowl

 Just about every time I hit the LYS and my favorite gal and I get to talking, the subject either turns to whatever the pickle eater said the other day or about how whenever I have a new pattern out, either the camera is looking down my shirt or the camera is looking down someone else's shirt when they're modeling whatever it is that I designed.

I think I was breastfed, but I cannot be sure. Mom was a solid negative A cup, so maybe she passed some sort of breast envy down to me, although I can tell you fo' sho' the last thing I want is a bigger bra. Shoot. Some people, the first place they gain weight is in their hips or thighs. Me? My face and chest. This is not a good thing. They make spandex things for ladies who need a nip or a tuck in the hips or thighs. Last I heard, they don't make any for the face or the chest that really work without anyone knowing.

Speaking of such things, I have been systematically changing the layout of my pdf's. Some of you may have noticed--I've been sort of quiet about it--but this new layout is tidier and my "older" patterns, the ones that were written before I knew what I was doing, heh, not that I know what I'm doing now, needed a makeover.

Hence, the new Somewhat Cowl layout (and pattern, to a certain extent).

Even though this one has been edited before, I went through another round of tech editing and did some minor changes to the pattern, specifically, I tweaked some of the measurements and such. Although it is pretty much the "same" pattern, it is now updated in language and fit. I paid specific attention to the fit of the sleeve and sized it up. It now goes to a 50" chest which will fit at least up to a 54".

Just thought I'd let you know, plus, it is also available in a print version, like several of my other ones, at your own LYS. And if they don't yet carry them, my wholesaler is Deep South Fibers.

Hearkening back to the LYS discussion, as I was writing the first paragraph of this post, I was reminded about something that happened a month or two ago when I brought Rocko in to meet my favorite gal at the LYS. She said, "Oh, how cute!" and the pickle eater said, "Hey! What type of dog is that?"

I said, "he's a Dachshund mix. I don't know what his other half is, but he's a Wire-Hair Dachshund on one side; at least, I know that much."

"He ain't no Dachshund: Look at him."

"Yes, he is."

"No, he's not."

"Yes, he is."

"No, he's not."

"Yes, he is. . . I know this, because the organization I adopted him from saw him come out of his mother. She was a full-breed Wire-Hair Dachshund. The other half? Not so sure."

After a little verbal tussle, which I am used to with her, I left. And the next time I went in, my friend at the LYS told me this:

"Two seconds after the door shut after you, [the pickle eater] turned to me and said: 'Wow. That has to be the ugliest dog I have ever seen in my life' and went back to her knitting with a vengeance."

You gotta love them, those LYS's.

Edited to add: I have had a few requests for free pattern updates for those who already own the original pattern. Although I would LOVE to give away the new and improved pattern for free, I cannot. I paid a tech editor to go through it again (she didn't find any errors!) and to help me reword it to make it shorter, etc. I tweaked some of the measurements, too, and condensed the pattern into two pages.

I'm Not Bitter.

 I tell you what, seems to me, the number of days or sessions I spend in the gym or at the frou-frou yoga joint correlates perfectly with the number of inspiring and/or interesting things I feel the need to say on this blog.

Honestly. When you don't hear from me for a couple of days or more than a few, it means I haven't been getting out much.

I was talking to my editor the other day and she (who does knit, but isn't a serial knitter the likes I've met in the past) suggested that I check in with her mid-June with 15 patterns under my belt, all knit and written out, schematicized, you name it. I smiled and said "Sure!"

The smiling part is definitely important because you can honestly tell when someone smiles on the other end of the phone, by the way. I should know. I was a highly trained and very serious customer service agent for Blue Cross way back when, when I took a break from college for a "career." They taught me how to smile when I delivered news like: "You have run out of benefits for your 45-year old and very sick daughter, maam!" or "Pardon me, sir, but I was wrong when I initially told you that your wife had pregnancy benefits. Actually, she does not!"

Truth is, if I put my mind to it, I can design and knit 15 patterns between now and June 15th if I really tried to, although I admit that no one in this house except the dogs will eat and my one good eye will definitely go out for good. Did I tell you I only had one eye that works? Maybe I should have told my editor that I only have one eye that works and buy a little more time from pity, but I'm not the pity type of girl. After wearing an eye patch for the first seven or so years of my life--an eye patch that my mom sewed sequins onto depending upon the season and, with some really nasty double-sided tape slapped it onto my eye, well, thing is, the combo really toughened me up at a very early age.

I like it that I'm tough. I hear other people complain about all sorts of things. Things they can change, but an eye patch with sequins that shape a peace sign? Or a rooster? You gotta be tough to get through that sort of thing, especially when you're in elementary school.

And did I mention that I was required to take modern dance classes? Forget math, English, or a musical instrument (that came later). As far as my mom was concerned, modern dance was my future.

Some people wouldn't ever recover from the Modern Dance Requirement. Add to that, seasonal sequined eye patches and you toughen up pretty quick.

Fifteen patterns by June 15th? I'm on it.

[That is why HWWV is at the frou-frou yoga joint for family day with Girlfriend. After all those years of pretending I'm a tree whilst wearing an sequined eye patch depicting the Last Supper or something like that, I just couldn't bring myself to go.]

BTW: I scored some Sanguine Gryphon Bugga! Sock Yarn. It is hard to find, but oh, the spring and the color! If only I had time to knit it up.

Also, check out Rocko's arms. Even though he's technically not allowed on the furniture, when I noticed that, when he stretches his front legs out they don't reach past his snout, I had to forgive him. He's a tough one, that Rocko. If only I could teach him to knit.

At Least There's a 42-Inch Flat Screen I Can See from the Kitchen Table

Doing what I've been doing the past couple of years can be sorta lonely. I think, if I went to a studio and worked, I'd get a lot more done and probably enjoy it more, yet I can't imagine forking over money for space when I have enough space already.

In fact, what began as a small bedroom-turned-studio has grown. It has bulged out the door and down the stairs, across the living room, through the family room and settled right here, at the kitchen table.

Friends, this is not a good thing.

Used to be, I'd roll out of bed, wave goodbye to the family, grab a cup of coffee and head into my little bedroom studio and not come out for hours and hours. And when I say hours and hours, I truly mean it. Except for maybe going downstairs and getting an apple or something like that, I wouldn't put on my day clothes until after 3:00 p.m., when it was time to get in the car and go get Girlfriend. And if I had my druthers like so many other mothers seem to have (and, not to mention half the teenage population), I would have forgone changing altogether and headed on out to pick up Girlfriend as-is and maybe grab a few groceries in my jammies and slippers on our way home.

Since my pajamas, if you can call them that, are so old and awful, I recently forced myself to get into the habit of changing into "real clothes" after my morning coffee. And you know what? That was my downfall. That was when my good working habits went to pot and the little bedroom studio flowed out its door, and down the hall, down the stairs across the living room and into the kitchen where I've been sitting, for oh, I don't know. About two hours tops, at least for today.

If I had my ugly jammies on, I wouldn't have been tempted to call up the salon this morning to see if Jessica had an hour available. I wouldn't have stopped at the LYS, either. And you know what else? I wouldn't have stopped at the mall on the way home just to look at a load of lipstick only to come home empty handed. Where would I wear a new lipstick? To my kitchen?

Truly, if I had my ugly jammies on, I'd be where I should have been all day, yesterday, and the day before that, in my little studio-turned-bedroom knitting like a good little girl.

Good news is, in spite of all my efforts to truly sabotage my progress, I've been making some.

We even fit in a trip to the "farm" with some friends where we picked beets and strawberries this weekend (notice that the crutches are gone?).

BTW: I've also set into motion a couple "local-ish" book signings. One at Knitculture/The Knitter's Studio in Los Angeles, California on June 6th and one at Anacapa Fine Yarns in Ventura, California (July 18th). In each case, there will be a two-week trunk show of knits from Custom Knits and patterns available through my wholesaler for a two-week period prior to the signing. Stay tuned for more info.

Snappy Intentions

So today in my yoga class, my teacher, as she is known to do at the beginning of each class, trilled: "Breathe into your third eye and set an intention for your practice!"

I have attended this class countless times, and for the life of me, I do not know what the heck she really means when she says "set an intention."

But wait: In all honesty, I guess I do kind of know what she means, because at the end of the show she tends to tell us what her own intention was, and it's usually something like: "my intention for this practice was to broaden my blankity-blank-blank and yadda yadda. Namaste."

Yet, whenever she asks us to set an intention for the day's practice, I sort of trip over myself while laying there with eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the class to begin. Should I come up with some special yogi thing to improve or work on? What about my triangle pose? Is it up to snuff? Should I work on something of which I'm not aware...yet? Maybe relax more? Keep my blanket, props, towel and all that other stuff really close to my mat so that skinny guy who moans a lot can lay really close to me even though I don't want him to? Should I work on that?

Given the short period of time we're allowed to ponder, I usually come up with something quick, but lame. Today, my intention was to make sure no one noticed how loud my stomach was growling.

Last week, my intention was not to cough.

The week before, my intention was not to cry.

I think I'm still not understanding this yoga intention-setting thing.

But about intentions that should really matter: Intentions for Yarn. When I find a new yarn, my usual intention-setting activity is pretty automatic, like a slap in the face. I spot the yarn, and instantly set my intention. My intention is to knit it...(Someday).

I mean, really. Let's not kid ourselves with meaningful intentions. We spot yarn, and if we can afford it, we take it home. It's that easy. Some days, we say the yarn will be a sweater. Other days, we're sure it'll become socks. Rarely do we face facts and buy the yarn knowing it'll sit just there, tucked in a book shelf, stuffed in a Rubbermaid, or stuck under a bed somewhere waiting for its intention.

Like this yarn. I got it from kpixie.com the other day. It's the sort of yarn that I just had to see in person. It is one of those "mystery" yarns. Full of good stuff like viscose, linen, cotton and the tiniest bit of "metallic," stuff that I love. Lots of metallic is not a good thing, but a teeny tiny little sparkle? Sign me up.

Thing is, I only have just over 300 yards, yet I must make something soon.

My intention for this yarn is some open work. It's just begging for it. Thing is, like I said: 300 yards. Do you have any ideas? (Feel free to tell me what to tell my third eye during practice, too. Just remember, I used to work with a corporate relic who claimed her third eye was always upon me--probably because I didn't appreciate her creative filing system and made the mistake of saying so.)

BTW: Girlfriend declared she needs earmuffs. Nevermind, it's pretty warm here. Can one knit or crochet warm weather earmuffs?