Early in Alfred Hitchcock’s movie The Birds (which you can watch in 1 minute 40 seconds here), you start noticing that there are an awful lot of birds hanging around, and you’re not really scared, but a little scared. That’s where I’m at with the squares. By my quick count, we’ve received over 500 so far. That’s a lot, but there is no reason to go running down the street screaming.
They come in peace.
We don’t have my desired number (120) of dull/dark plain squares quite yet, but we’re definitely more than halfway there, and I do have a plan B that would require 58 fewer dull/darks, and I also have plan C (in which we redefine “dull/dark” to “dull/dark and also blue”). Being a blanket-designing diva on a mission of world domination, I would rather die than divert from The Vision, but if I have to, I will. C’mon, dull/dark knitters! Work with me!
Here are the brave knitters who pushed us into the slightly scary 500+ zone: Donna H, Erica C, Anne O, Mims, Margaret C, Jane FB, JoAnne A, Jennie D, Kelli Ann, Xana from Portugal, Laura A, Katherine C, Catherine R, Helen H, Zoe M, Jen D, Claudia C, Amanda J, Becky S, Katy K (not that Katy K), Tara D, Rev. Emily, Elizabeth S, Brynne, and Deb C. Thank you so much!
The Power of Blocking
As an anguished commenter has pointed out (quite correctly), blocking was not on the test. Blocking is an extra-credit exercise, but I’m grateful to those who have chosen to block, of their own free will.
I have to single out one knitter, Brynne. Before I opened Brynne’s envelope, I laughed because she had written DO NOT BEND on it in big serious letters. I was all, Dude! It’s knitting! It bends, no problem!
Then I saw why Brynne was so particular about her postal handling instructions.
Brynne has been touched by the Power of Blocking. Her squares are the Greenwich Mean Time of 4-inch precision. They are flatter than Kansas, and their regulation unwoven tails are neatly tucked under. (I think it must have hurt her not to weave them in.) Brynne, we salute you. The stitchers of New York are going to bless your sweet steam iron as we sew up those crisp edges.
To everybody else, I say: No pressure.
Nonstop squareness has made me a little lightheaded. Last evening, I felt a woozy sensation, and a desire to knit something a little bit, oh I don’t know: 3-dimensional? I also started to be dimly aware of the approach of December 20 aka Teacher Present Day. I have a reputation for giving
dorky homemade exquisite handmade holiday gifts to the kids’ teachers. I am under no illusions that the teachers enjoy these gifts, but word gets around: you’ve got Joseph or Carrie on your roster, you get a handknit. So this year can’t be the year I don’t do it, you know? This might be the year they really want the handknits!
Enter: Maine Morning Mitts (free pdf of the pattern here). Clara saves the day! For gal teachers, I’m thinking about making Fetching mitts in dainty Noro Silk Garden, but I think for a man, an up-sized version of the Maine Morning mitts in Noro Kureyon could be just the thing. Fingerless mitts are great for commuting by train (read the paper without taking them off to turn the pages), roof playground duty (clearly and swiftly point out bad behavior), and field trips (handle MetroCards, buckle buckles, zip zips, and assist with ice skates). I hereby declare fingerless mitts to be the official Mason-Dixon Knitting Holiday Teacher Gift of 2007. Start your dpns!
Prototype of Maine Morning Mitts (in a moody-blues shade of Kureyon) in progress, for Joseph if he’ll wear them. (Yes, I’m trying to raise up a mini Brooklyn Tweed–is that wrong? Let she who has not been getting her second grader to crank hats cast the first stone!)