"The Nation's Leading Bi-Regional Knitting Blog" --Ann's husband • "Kay sure is wasting a lot of time on this" --Kay's husband

January 31, 2011

For the Love of Miters (and each other)


Dear Ann,

You know I have a soft spot for miters. So you will understand why I went all wobbly in the lower lip when I saw this project.

Once in a while a group knitting project really comes together, and is beautiful on the inside AND the outside; there is soul in the gesture and in the object itself. The phrase "greater than the sum of its parts" comes to mind. I hope it has magical, mitered healing powers. It sure looks like it does.

Oh, boo hoo!

(Picture above is a mixed-up miter project from my own mitered past. I believe there is a boy under it.)



P.S. Please send me all your Rowan Felted Tweed leftovers. Don't pretend you don't have any. Spill 'em.

Posted by Kay at 11:13 PM | Comments (24)

January 26, 2011

Craft. Work. Knit.


Dear Ann,

FINALLY! I've been dragged out of seclusion by your mention of Ann Weaver. I've been crushing on the designs in Ann Weaver's recent book, Craft. Work. Knit, since someone with a good eye introduced me to them last autumn. I got my hot little hands on a copy of this self-published gem, and fell in love. It was the good kind of love. The kind that inspires you to finish up a couple of projects so you can cast on something epic.

The something epic being the Albers Shawl. To me, this is no shawl. This is a blanket that you can see through. I only recently gave myself permission to cast on. I'm stalled, due to poor yarn quantity forecasting, in the middle of the very first square (which is 140 stitches x 140 garter ridges). I'm using the yarn that is most sacred to me: Jade Sapphire Mongolian Cashmere 2 ply. And I'm making this thing for the best possible reason. I don't need it, I don't want to wear it--I'm making it because it is a beautiful thing, and because it captured my imagination. It's a log cabin thang, people. I can't explain it. Something about the colors. Something about the hugeness. Something about the sheerness and stretch of laceweight on US 7 needles. Something about the log cabin block being square but not symmetrical. It just gets me.


My second favorite pattern in the book is, quite predictably, the Albers Cowl. Ann Weaver based each square on one of Josef Albers' "portrait of a square" paintings, which are color studies. I didn't need anything more. But then, she had to go and have her beautiful MOM model it in the book. Stop it, already! I'm knitting it! You're killing me! Forget all my snarking about "the cowl is the new fingerless mitts"--I'm knitting this cowl. Koigu solids. Or maybe that Madeleine Tosh stuff people are so nuts about. Again, it's the color juxtapositions and the asymmetry of each square. Hey--maybe I'll give it to my Mom.

Anyway, I hear you, 100 percent. This book, and Ann Weaver's work overall, is a blast of fresh air. I got to meet Ann in person when she was visiting New York in early December last year. I couldn't attend her event, but we got together for coffee the next day, and somehow I ended up driving her to Providence, Rhode Island that same night. (Knitters. What can you do.) She's a doll. She can talk as much as ME, Ann. I know: scary! Our conversation on I95 that evening was the My Dinner With Andre of log cabin knitting. There are things I have been thinking about log cabin knitting that I have not even been able to confide in you, Ann, and I unloaded every single one of them on young Ann Weaver. Bless her heart! Anyway, watch this space. 2011 is going to be a Josef Albers kind of year.

As Long As I'm Typing

I have so much unblogged bloggage that I'm not going to even try to catch up. But 2011 did start out beautifully. For the past 11 years, I've taken a walk on the beach on January 1. It seems so glamorous, and also hopeful, to walk in the wind, and mostly in solitude. But this year I had lots of company.

The stalwart Orna, who keeps exclaiming over the ocean, even though she grew up one block from the sea. Orna took many pictures of driftwood and shells.

Girls took many pictures of each other.

Olive recorded nothing, but smelled everything.

Rosie and Ronnie, the former a study in cerise.

And more of the dearly beloved and the gently hung over. Life is good.

Garter Stitch Gazette


Meanwhile, I finished a whole blanket while I was gone. A splendid blanket. I cannot say enough about it, but I cannot really say anything about it, because it's a variation on a design in a fantastic book by a friend that will not come out until later this year. But working on it has got me on fire again for log cabin knitting, and blanket knitting in general.

I do want to share this now, in case I forget later. BLOCKING. When you knit something in garter stitch, and you finish knitting it and weaving in the ends, it looks so great that you are sorely tempted to call it done. It's not lace, so there is no crying need to block it just to be able to SEE it. But please, please, please, wash it and block it anyway. A simple, straightforward block where you just lay it out flat without stretching it, straighten the edges with your fingers, and let it dry. No wires, no pins, just a wash and a flat, orderly drying session. A blanket knit in any yarn will benefit greatly from this treatment. But if it's knit in Noro Silk Garden, it will be transformed from beautiful but crunchy to a softness and drape that is nigh unto cashmere. You knitted the thing. It took a fair bit of your life. So block it. You're welcome.

It started out as a special wedding present.

But I don't think I can let it go. That never happens to me. I am always ready to let knitting go, and get onto the next knitting. Pal Amber saw it today, and when I confessed this, she said, "Give them a Pendleton." You have to earn a blanket like this. You have to knit it.


P.S. A gratuitous picture of Olive, because she looks so noble and matches the furniture.

She is a Custom Mutt.

Posted by Kay at 08:46 PM | Comments (47)

What Comes of Procrastination


Dear Kay,

Right this minute I've got three things going on that may cause me to spontaneously combust at any moment.

1. Watching a live streaming view of a hummingbird nest in Orange County, California.

2. While listening to Jeff Buckley singing Hallelujah.

3. And admiring the true originality of Ann Weaver's knitting designs. I haven't ever seen them before and haven't met her but wish I had. I have to say: if you're looking for a set of patterns that will make you think that knitting is still fresh and new, then her book Craft Work Knit will make you very happy. A revelation!


Posted by Ann at 03:57 PM | Comments (18)

January 21, 2011

A Thought on Apple and Steve Jobs

Dear Kay,

I heard the news the other day that Steve Jobs is taking a leave of absence for health reasons. I thought about him all day, and keep thinking about him.

I have used Apple computers since 1991. Twenty years. The interface is so familiar to me at this point, so ingrained, that I am flummoxed whenever I have to work on a PC. It's like a bad-fitting shoe; I can't stand it. A PC feels terrible, from the look of the desktop to that inelegant mouse in my hand.

I have a desktop Mac and a MacBook laptop that my son has taken to insulting for its wheezy, antique ways. Recently, with all the writing I've been doing, I use my laptop a lot, because it's portable and I can sit pretty much anywhere with it. I'm looking at it right this minute, in fact! The keys are all smudgy, and there's a piece of tape on the edge where the trim cracked. I happen to know that the Apple Store would replace this part if I took it in, because I asked them. But it doesn't bother me in a computer that in every other way is so elegant.

Hubbo went in yesterday to buy a new charger for his MacBook. They gave him a new one, just like that, when he explained how his wasn't working right. They replaced my iPhone a couple of years ago, just like that, after I told them that I had dropped it five times in a row and cracked the button. Maybe everybody's experience isn't as good as this. But again and again, those Apple phone reps have talked me through all sorts of problems, have acted in a decent and responsive way. I can't say that about many companies. And I think all that flows from Steve Jobs and his insistence on quality, on trying really, really hard to get it right.

Sometimes I go a long time without thinking about the particulars of my computers. On occasion, however, I stop to think about what these machines can do, what they have made possible for me, and I'm grateful to Steve Jobs for making them so simple, so intuitive.

Here is Steve Jobs in 2005, giving the commencement speech at Stanford, the year after he was diagnosed with cancer.

"The Macintosh was the first computer with beautiful typography," he points out. That's only part of it.

I wish him well, and I hope he is around, as he says in his speech, for decades to come.


Posted by Ann at 12:11 PM | Comments (71)

January 17, 2011

The Results Are In: The Official Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting


Dear one n all,

The voters' fingers have been dipped in milk. The UN poll inspectors have all gone home. Jimmy Carter has concluded that democracy has been served. Here's how the 2,450 votes stacked up in the quest for The Official Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting:

1. Girl Scout Thin Mint 249
2. Pepperidge Farm Milano 208
3. Walker's Shortbread 200
4. Girl Scout Samoa 135
5. Chocolate-covered Digestive 118
6. Oreo 111
7. Carr's Ginger Lemon Creme 103
8. Le Petit Ecolier 98
9. Tim Tam 76
10. Fig Newton 74
11. Oreo--Double Stuf 64
12. Trader Joe's Peppermint Joe-Joe's 58
13. McVities Hob Nob 57
14. Anna's Ginger Thins 56
15. Trader Joe's Triple Ginger Snaps 55
16. Pecan Sandies 54
17. Lorna Doone 49
18. Trader Joe's Chocolate Almond Horn 47
18. Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Chunk Sausalito 47
20. Girl Scout Tagalong 47
21. Vienna Fingers 45
21. Mallomar 45
21. Moon Pie 45
24. Frosted Animal Cookies w/Sprinkles 42
25. Pim's 35
26. Nutter Butter 33
27. Famous Amos Chocolate Chip 31
28. Pepperidge Farm Brussels 27
29. Bahlsen Choco Leibniz 24
30. Nonni's Biscotti 21
30. Archway Frosted Lemon 21
32. Newman's Own Ginger-O 19
33. Moravian Spice Cookies 18
34. Pepperidge Farm Gingerman 14
35. Pepperidge Farm Pirouette 13
35. Pepperidge Farm Bordeaux 13
37. Ikea Kakor Chokladflarn 11
37. Oreo--Double Stuf Mint 11
37. Famous Chocolate Wafer 11
40. Jammie Dodger 10
40. Keebler Soft Batch Chocolate Chip 10
40. Keebler French Vanilla Creme 10
43. Trader Joe's Meringues 8
43. Oreo Fudgee 8
43. LU Cinnamon Spice 8
46. Lemon Hydrox 7
47. Fresh Market Kitchen Sink 4

A hearty high five to Girl Scout Thin Mints, the Official Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting!

Now, I realize that there are Thin Mint detractors out there. I know that some of you will say that the reason Thin Mints are eaten in such quantity is that the only way to get the taste of a Thin Mint out of your mouth is to eat another Thin Mint. I know that some of you refer to the coating as "polymerlike," or "waxy," or indeed "not really chocolate." I know that some of you think mint is a toothpaste flavor, not a cookie flavor. And I say: I hear you. I may even believe these things. But that does not matter.

What matters is that a strong, clear Thin Mint voice was raised. A quick scan of Google will reveal that Thin Mints have long been the best-selling Girl Scout cookie. Indeed, people declare their love via clothing:


So when you see that Girl Scout cookie order form in the break room at work, order a box or two of Thin Mints. The Girl Scouts and the Girl Scout Cookie Moms of the world will thank you.

Miss Congeniality Awards

Best Cookie to Eat While Knitting: It has been pointed out that if you combined the Lorna Doone vote and the Walker's Shortbread vote, shortbread would have won the day. Many have extolled the tidiness of a shortbread cookie, the way you can eat 'n' knit without chocolaty calamity, the way shortbread really sings when eaten with tea.


Most Fun Cookie: Tim Tams. Good lord, people, who knew you could turn a cookie into an activity? You Tim Tammers are clearly having a better time with your cookies than anybody else. My sister Buffy has emailed me and written me about the Tim Tam Slam, and she even went so far as to buy a vast quantity of Tim Tams for holiday gifts because her husband came back from a trip to Australia with these chocostravaganzas.

Best Name: Ikea Kakor Chokladflarn.

Best Surprise Contender: Chocolate-covered Digestives. Way to rally the troops on this one. Impressive showing for a cookie that has the word digestive in it.

Best Martin Luther King Day Cookie: It's Martin Luther King Day, so I checked to see what Martin Luther King's favorite cookie was. I didn't find an answer, but I did learn that he loved pecan pie. So maybe a Pecan Sandie would do in a pinch.

Wishing you all a fine, cookie-loaded day.


Posted by Ann at 09:33 AM | Comments (51)

January 16, 2011

Sunday Listening


Dear Kay,

As promised, here's "Out Counting Sheep," the BBC radio documentary just out from our roving friend, Matt Thompson.

This makes excellent listening while knitting, as Tina pointed out when she heard it on the air yesterday. Also good to hear while taste-testing cookies for the cookie vote below. Which continues until midnight CDT tonight.


PS Those are Martha's Vineyard sheep up there, whom I met a few years back.

Posted by Ann at 09:12 AM | Comments (6)

January 14, 2011

Let the Voting Begin: The Official Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting

cookie aisle.jpg

Dear cookie enthusiasts,

We have culled through the nominations for Official Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting, and now present the ballot.

Democracy is never easy, is it? A few notes:

1. Hard decisions had to be made while pulling this together. The point was raised that perhaps Girl Scout cookies should have their own category, due to their seasonal availability. The League of Women Cookie Voters concluded that distribution in general is a problem with cookies: can one, for example, find an Ikea Kakor Chokladflarn in Nashville? Can Tracy in Qatar get hold of a Famous Chocolate Wafer? In the case of elusive, hard-to-find cookies, we suggest the concept of stashing and hoarding, which is familiar enough to us already what with the whole yarn thing and all.

2. Are biscuits the same thing as cookies? We say yes. We say also that biscotti are close enough, too.

3. In four cases, nominees were deemed ineligible because they were either no longer available (Brown Edged Wafers); actually bakery cookies which are made by humans, not machines (Tate's Chocolate Chip): were in fact dough and therefore not yet a cookie (raw Nestle Toll House Cookie dough); or determined in a court of law to be a cake, not a biscuit (Jaffa Cakes). In the case of Jaffa Cakes, it has been pointed out that Pim's are basically the same thing. But because nobody has litigated Pim's, we're going to declare Pim's to be cookies. So all you Jaffa Cake fans can throw your vote to Pim's.

4. We conflated all nominations for the varieties of Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies, because the fundamental architecture of a Milano is consistent whether it be Milk Chocolate, Dark, or Mint. All Milanos are Milanos. On the other hand, not all Oreos are Oreos. An Oreo Fudgee is a different shape and concept from an original Oreo; a Double Stuf Oreo is deeply controversial amongst Oreo aficionados, indeed is sometimes scorned as That Awful Kind of Oreo. So we left all the Oreos as separate nominees. This may split the Oreo vote, but we don't actually think it will.

5. The ballot is alphabetical except for Famous Amos Chocolate Chip, which we forgot and is at the very bottom.

CRUCIAL NOTE: Technology limitations prevent us from creating one giant ballot, so what you see below is one ballot presented in three pieces. ONLY ONE VOTE should be cast, even though it looks like you have three ballots. CONSIDER ALL THREE BOXES BEFORE CASTING YOUR ONE VOTE, please.

Voting will continue through the weekend, until midnight Central Daylight Time, Sunday, January 16. We recommend that you taste-test all these before voting.


Posted by Ann at 01:00 AM | Comments (67)

January 13, 2011

The Official Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting


Dear Kay,

I think it's safe to say that yesterday, the Lebkuchen Defense League rose up in support of its favorite seasonal treat. Such a spirited defense! Thank you all for explaining that the papery food/not-food thing on the bottom is called an oblaten. I'm going to start putting oblaten under everything I make. Pancakes. Hamburgers. Tacos. It can't hurt, right? Kind of like Spanx for your food.

Laura, Su1281, Emily all ask the question, "If Weissala lebkuchen are the Official Not Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting, then what is the Official Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting?"

Such a great question.

I basically think you're right, Kay, that ALL OTHER COOKIES is the Official Cookie of MDK, but that's kind of hard to rally around. So in the spirit of true democracy, I think it's worth a vote to see what cookie will rise from the murk as the Official Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting.

I'm accepting nominations for the Official Cookie of MDK, and then we'll have a vote, and probably a runoff, and maybe another runoff.

Rules: Nominees must be storebought cookies. Nobody wants to hear about Great-Aunt Winnie's Molasses Caramel Drops, because we all know that Great-Aunt Winnie had a special way with molasses and nobody else has ever made Molasses Caramel Drops like hers.

Deadline for nominations is 4 pm Central Daylight Time this afternoon. I'll sort out the nominations, cook up some kind of poll, then we'll have a plausible excuse to go to the store and buy fifteen boxes of cookies so that we can all vote in an informed way.


PS Yes, the cookie aisle above is in the Netherlands, apparently. Nashville's cookie aisles tend not to have such mysterious and exotic brands!

Posted by Ann at 12:01 PM | Comments (204)

January 12, 2011

A Visit from Our Scottish Friends, an Unfortunate Cookie, and a New Project


Dear Kay,

New year, new year. I've been replacing Hubbo's vanished Parisian hat with another one, this time using yarn that showed up at my house on Saturday when our friends Landy and Matt showed up from the Firth of Forth. North Berwick. Near Edinburgh. (Edinburgh! Now THERE's a destination. Who's up for Edinburgh?)


Landy brought me a skein of authentic Shetlandish woollyness that she found at a Scottish crafts fair. It's so close to the source that it is practically emitting sheep sounds. It let me know that it wanted to be another hat for Hubbo, so I cast on while yakking away with Matt and Landy as they put away at least six gallons of tea. We pondered some terrible cookies from Trader Joe's.

The Terrible Cookies


I can't really capture how bad these cookies were. So promising on the topside, all glazed and gingery. So mystifying on the bottom: some kind of papery underpinning that left us arguing over whether it was food or not-food. Has anybody else had these things? Am I some kind of cultural incompetent to miss the charm of these Weissellas? I have German ancestry, but I'm telling you, there is no charm to be found in these things.

SPEAKING OF SHEEP SOUNDS, I will be sharing one of Matt's BBC Radio documentaries in a few days--he is a producer of extraordinary radio programmes. Here's a preview of Matt's sheep tale. He finished it here in Nashville, and I am proud to glom the reflected glory. Matt produces documentaries that make NPR look like TMZ. (OK, here's TMZ for those of you who claim innocence. As IF you don't keep up with Charlie Sheen's divorce proceedings.)

Wish they lived less than 4,000 miles away, you know?

The New Project for 2011


You're looking at an entire snow day's worth of knitting. Snow day knitting is second only to airplane knitting in terms of wide-open horizon, of boundless opportunity.

It's about six rows. It is a testament to our longstanding Mason-Dixon Rule #93: "No project is too ambitious if you crave the result enough." This little strip of knitting is the most taxing piece of knitting I have ever done, and I'm including my first attempt at Fair Isle.


It's corrugated ribbing, using Rowan Kidsilk Haze and Rowan Felted Tweed. You probably can't tell, but it's the bottom of a cardigan, the dreamy Galvanized Cardigan by the talented Amy Christoffers, from the Winter 2010 issue of Interweave Knits.

The minute I saw this sweater, I knew that it was going to be my next sweater. Such a great idea, to go mixed media on the corrugated ribbing. So great to have long cuffs of it. So gray. A cardigan. So exactly the sort of thing I wear on a daily basis.

I had the exact yarns in my inventory. I cranked a swatch, and bingo: 24 sts/34 rows on a size 4. Sweet PERFECTION.


Then I started the actual corrugated ribbing thing. What I didn't anticipate was that I'd done corrugated ribbing in the round, but never flat. Corrugated ribbing is a simple idea: k1 in one color, p1 in another. Repeat. You have to flip yarns front and back all the time, but you get a groove going and it happens steadily enough. However, in THIS case, you have to work both right-side and wrong-side corrugated ribbing, oh and also one of the yarns is basically human hair, so HAVE FUN WITH THAT.


It makes a beautiful pattern that you can't get any other way. Believe me, along this trail of tears, I considered duplicate stitch, I considered ditching the Kidsilk Haze, I considered ditching the corrugated ribbing altogether. But once I got an inch's worth of this stuff, it looked so clever, and so striking, that I wanted to be best friends with it forever.


PS I'm not done with those cookies. I just found a review of Weissella cookies by Portland, Oregon's Sarah Gilbert. I'm telling you, I love Trader Joe's, but these cookies are too hard for me to understand. It's like a cheese with one of those rinds you don't know whether you're supposed to eat or not. I don't need that kind of anxiety when faced with a cookie. I'm going to go ahead and declare Weissella cookies The Official Not Cookie of Mason-Dixon Knitting. We are un-endorsing these things. Somebody needs to get back into the kitchen and try again.

Posted by Ann at 11:08 AM | Comments (83)

January 04, 2011

Paris O Paris!


Dear Kay,

Bonne année! Whatevaire! We just got back from our fambly trip to Paris.

We brought back souvenir malades. Yesterday I decided to call mine jet lag, but it's actually sort of more achy than that.

Our aches were a small difficulty, though, for a trip that went well. Arriving at de Gaulle airport after their week of complete weather chaos was like coming through a college dorm after the year-end loadout. The graveyard of dead luggage was so extreme that we could barely get to the conveyor belt to retrieve our undead luggage.

I spent time in France during college, but the France I visited back then was viewed mostly from tents pitched in campgrounds beside soccer stadiums and from the smudged window of the Hotel Star (named, I'm going to guess, for the one star it fraudulently earned). France is so great! There are toilets that don't require coins to enter them! Who knew? If somebody had let me know that, maybe it wouldn't have taken so long for me to return!

City of Light? Really?

Sunrise in Paris this time of year is 8:45 am. It doesn't even get plausibly light until after 9:30, and even then, there's a feel of being in a place where the time zone is seriously afflicted. I can only imagine what it's like further north. I love you, Scandinavia, for flourishing in such a dark place! I thought I had a high tolerance for a gloomy day, but Paris really got me thinking about sunshine in a way I NEVER do.

Moment of Inspiration

Here's the view from our apartment. We were in the 6th Arrondissement, which was charming beyond description, so I won't even try.


I have to say, that apartment was a real pleasure, and for a family of four, Worth It. (If anybody wants to know more about this, just let me know. We used parisperfect.com, and they did a great job.) It certainly did help to have space once the troops began falling malade. And I was able to acquire yogurt at the pace I needed to, which was extreme. It was like a museum of recent French yogurts in that fridge.

As we wandered around, I learned to look up, searching for historical plaques. The city is barnacled with plaques, of painters and sculptors and générales and whatnot. On the Ile St. Louis, we came across the place where some guy in 1799 figured out natural gas lighting. Imagine the failed experiments along the way. "Sorrreeeee!!!!! My bad!!!!"

One of my favorites was actually across the street from our apartment, at 31 Rue de Seine. The writer George Sand apparently lived there in 1831 after leaving her husband (le shocking!) and bunked up at her brother's to write for Le Figaro. She also wrote her first novel there, Indiana, that I've never heard of, embarrassingly.


I swear that plaque says that George Sand lived there.

Of course, I found this inspiring to have the ghost of George Sand across the street, and I identify with her because I too like to dress like a man on most days. I got out my laptop and wrote some more on my movel, and found myself at word 80,000 ("anagram"). In fact, because I was staying home with sick Clif that New Year's Day,


I tanked up on coffee, wine and gallette des rois avec frangipane inside (WOW is the word that comes to mind), and I managed to blast on through to the end of my story. So pleased about that. Dead chuffed, really.


I have a very small number of photeaux to show, mostly because we brought the digital SLR which is sort of like bringing a treasured pet cactus along for a trip. You're so glad to have it for that superspecial photo on Pont Neuf with the absolutely flat gray sky giving off the most luscious light you ever saw.


She is so gorgeous . . . But at other times, it's just a big prickly succulent to lug in a place where you already feel like you're lugging your very existence in your tote bag. My iPhone did OK in a pinch, but next time, the point n shoot comes with us for sure. (This little camera seems to be DELICIOUS for a trip where the photo ops are plentiful and the will to lug is minimal.)

Favorite Louvre painting of the trip:


Florentine Superheroes: Giotto, Uccello, Donatello, Manetti, Brunelleschi

The digital cactus let us catch these colors very accurately, which was a new concept for me! And Photoshop pieced three photos together for this extremely wide painting.


An army of shrubbery at Les Invalides. The Musée de l'Armée there was moving to me as all military museums are. All that engineering, all that order at all costs. I was re-reading Ian McEwan's Atonement on this trip, and the section in that novel about the evacuation from Dunkirk in 1940 really came alive in this museum.


Notre Dame. Patient stonework in the face of so many curious hands.


Hubbo's photograph of the bubble man.

Proof of Hat

The one small tragedy of the trip was the disappearance of the hat I made for Hubbo for this trip. It was a noble hat, a hat made as fast as a hat can be made, and there is only one photo of that hat:


I actually love this photo, because Hubbo is wearing the hat without the cuff folded up to make it into the Jacques Cousteau Hat it was meant to be. The poky-up part on top would have flattened out into a nice domelike crown had I had the chance to explain the concept of the cuff. You may notice that Bubble Man's hat is virtually the same as Hubbo's, so it was heartening to see Hubbo so on-trend. Hubbo felt terrible that the hat vanished, but I think we all know that I was not all that affected by this because the fact is, it's a fun thing to make a hat, and knitting is my hobby, you know?

Glad to have gone, happy to be home. I guess that's the idea. Thanks for reading all this--it's so helpful to sit for a minute and digest everything.


Posted by Ann at 12:38 PM | Comments (53)
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