I am guessing that you have given up hope altogether that I will ever write about knitting. You’re quakin’ in your Mom Shoes that I’m going to sit here and tell you about the hilarious send-up of country music, The Doyle and Debbie Show, which Hubbo and I saw on Sairdy night.
And give you constant updates about our vegetable garden.
Zukes and cukes are up. Beans nowhere in sight.
And report on the health of our newest family member, Dr. Betta, named by Clif.
Every time I walk past that fishbowl I expect to see Dr. Betta belly up. I have no confidence that we can sustain this Siamese fighting fish any better than we can raise cucumbers.
Well, missy, YE OF LITTLE FAITH. Guess what I made this weekend? Go ahead. Guess. You’ll NEVER EVER WEVER guess.
If you were at the Hampton Inn in Green Hills this weekend, and you were in the conference room, you would have found me, and a congenial gathering of the Knitting and Crochet Guild of Nashville, snackin’ on cheese cubes and making a junior-sized, all-wool, 100% authentic tam.
The hat of the islands, that most round and colorful head topper. You see a tam, and within ten minutes you’ll find yourself on a golf course wearing knickers and pretending you’re at St. Andrews.
Here’s my tam, which I’m calling Tammy, with its two-tone corrugated ribbing, a tubular cast on, double decreases out the wazoo, and a colorway that can only be called yooneek. I take full responsibility for the yarn here–I grabbed my bag of Harrisville worsted on the way to class and hoped for the best. I think my chief learning from this class was that choosing yarn colors carefully can pretty much make a difference in a Fair Isle project.
The incomparable Beth Brown-Reinsel, whose serene nature was not disturbed despite her proximity to 80 double-pointed needles.
Beth explained many things to us, in her calm way that belies a woman who can work Fair Isle on the tiniest needles with the most colors imaginable without going bonkers. She talked about contrast. And weaving, and dominant color and yarn spinning and meeting Alice Starmore.
She said that tams are traditionally blocked on a plate.
I wasn’t able to stay for day 2 of this workshop. (I could pretend I was at Kroger for only so long without raising suspicions at home.) A crying shame, because I love ganseys. But Beth did sign my copy of her Knitted Ganseys, which is a classic.
Beth says she’s at work on a book about Scandinavian knitting, which has been under way for a while now. It will be a classic too. Sort of like these tams.
Have you ever seen so many tams in one place other than a national convention of The United Tam Wearers of America? Fellow participant Liana was kind enough to send along a class picture. (Her sock monkey colorway tam, top right, is pure stinkin’ brilliant.)
Whatever you say about me, you can’t say I never made a tam. Top that, missy!
PS FROM KAY: I never do this, and it might even be against The Rules, but I have to jump in and urge everybody to click on that link to The Doyle and Debbie Show. “Strum and drang”–it’s killing me! Be sure to read the lyrics while you enjoy the fine music.