Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Don't forget the weather

There is a lot of famous sniveling about the weather here in the the PNW, and it's a matter of pride with me that I indulge as little as possible in similar griping. There's a reason we call it 'Oregon Sunshine'. I remember many occasions of openly sneering at people in my disaffected youth, watching them walk by under the protection of an umbrella whilst I stood staunchly and righteously dripping in my wool sweater and bare head. Wimps, we'd say. Or, worse yet, Californians, we'd hiss. I have, I am happy to say, matured into some greater tolerance and wisdom, and have even partaken of this umbrella creation from time to time. But the fact remains that a) a true Oregonian does nay shy away from a bit of a dampening (perhaps we are partially amphibious, we breathe better when wet), and b) an umbrella is a lot to juggle with a six-year-old, an infant, a ginormous shoulder bag and a load of groceries when crossing the street. Just sayin'.

But it still behooves one to be prepared. Ditch the brolly, or as the francophones have it, Parapluie. Enter the Parapluie Hat.




Bedecked with its own (hopefully charming) take on raindrops and outfitted with an extra snug brim for foiling those ill winds, this hat has you covered. And since I have acquired by magic over the last couple of years quite a quantity of hair (2.5 years ago), I like a hat with some room in it, which this one has in spades. This pattern was originally designed for Twisted's Mad About Tosh club and became open to the general public in November. Then it sat around on my computer, waiting. And waiting. And waiiiiiting for me to remember to publish it already. And then finally I did. Yay! Here you go.

Monday, January 21, 2013

A gentler job

I couldn't ask for. Even when I can't feel my fingers or I have a cranky baby on my back, I love this work. Light. I often take pictures on the sly that (shhhhh) have nothing to do with the knitwear that I've been hired for. Or the people, even. Just because I love doorways or rocks or rough wood forth. I'll try to start sharing some of those here because sadly they hardly ever even make it to the light of day since I get too lazy to bother, and I like to prove (to you, me) that it's not all just babies around here. Occasionally, at least.


Someday I want to own a house with a chicken coop covered in blackberries and honeysuckle. Maybe even just the coop, especially if I can squeeze a goat or two in there with us. Makes me feel like Eliza Lou, like from the song, 'Mama Buy Me a China Doll'.


I love braids, it's a likely reason why I became a knitter. I braided her hair even though she spent most of the shoot with a hat on. Fortunately, since it was quite cold, but it was worth it because braids are magic.

Friday, January 11, 2013





My heart feels just like those balloons. So large, so light, in triplicate. She has that effect on people. I hope it lasts, it's the kind of trait that can carry you far, and smoothly. One of my favorite people wished for her upon her birth 'many soaring adventures and soft landings'. Amen.

What an enormous month: two teeth, one inch, one pound, all fours (balancing, not yet moving), many large gatherings and celebrations, many more small gatherings and celebrations, a few words (more later), and I can't help but feel I'm leaving out something essential. Oh, a New Year. Glad to say, she did not stay up to ring it in.

She has said word(s): 'Kitty' was the very first, and it kind of breaks my heart since we had to put my dear feline friend to sleep about a week after she came out with that gem, on the last day of the old year. She still looks around for him, which about boggles my understanding of an infant's long-term memory.

A digression: my kitty.


My mom and I first adopted him in New Mexico several years ago, when we lived in the mountains. He was a little slip of a thing, and fearless. We named him Fergus, then Jack, then Fergus Jack the Sailor Cat after a couple outings on a lake in which he was our figurehead, dainty paws perched on the tip of the bow. After that we tried some more names until we realized that we just always called him Kitty, at which point we officially named him Nemo, which means 'No Name'. Then that blasted movie (just kidding, I love it) came out and I've had to explain ever after that he is NOT named after a misplaced clown fish. This is the kitty who fought off feral dogs and coyotes and who knows what else up there in the woods. Who once brought home a rabbit larger than himself to share, neatly decapitated and elegantly laid out on the bathroom rug. Who cuddled me endlessly through the recovery of my head injury and sundry other ailments and woes. Who proudly dominated our entire neighborhood, again and again, through eight (!) moves. Well, after this last one perhaps he was rather more contented to proudly observe. Our yard. From the deck. I am very glad that he was around long enough to touch my Littlest, even as I know that she cannot possibly hold onto the memory of him.



Yes, he really was that large. He easily outclassed Anaiah by several inches. Not to mention pounds. Farewell, friend.

As for our other words: Chicken (and sounds! Oh, the sounds!), Clap Clap (plus the trick, which is an exciting and favorite new skill), and Baby -- which she says 'Jaygee', in reference to her little bedtime snuggly doll. You may wonder, given my artless naming of things (Baby, Kitty), how my children wound up with names at all...I don't, I promise, go around calling them Son and Daughter. I won't tell you what thoroughly embarrassing things I DO hear myself calling them though. No, I'll save those choice tidbits for the high school years.


And it is endlessly hilarious when I have things on my head, especially this hat. Oh, mom, blue hair is ridiculous! You must wear it always! This hat, by the way...I designed it! For Twisted's Mad About Tosh club, and now that I have new photos of it I will be re-releasing it to the public soon.


That hat on Anaiah I *also* knit, designed by my dear friend, Sorren. I suggest you make a few to have on hand for babies, they are just unspeakably adorable.

(My word. What big teeth I have. Right now my mom is groaning that I included this photo, I can tell.)

Until next time, faithful friends!