First things first. (Knitting, of course.)
Color: Viking. This is not Pumpkin Spice no matter what you may think you’re seeing here.
After knitting the same basic sock pattern for four months, my knitting brain has a powerful urge to cast on 64 stitches and go. That’s not what I’m supposed to do here. This is a sort of painting with stitches. The openwork pattern (it’s so graphic and modern and cool that I hate to pin the “lace” label on it) uses symmetry and (HELLO) asymmetry to arrive at this beautiful design.
Being on the road, I didn’t have stitch markers, which are the thing that saves the day on a pattern like this. And somewhere between Boston and Maine, I lost my one sticky note—that crucial line-keeper for the chart. I am roughing it, Kay. ROUGHING IT. As my mom always said, “With the right tools, you can do anything.” What she meant was, “Without the right tools, you’re totally screwed.”
Anyway. Jeanette’s pattern is written for fingering weight yarn, and Winterburn Aran is (YES) aran weight, so I’m just following the pattern as written. The finished size of the original pattern is 47 inches, using fingering weight. My rough calculation puts mine at 72 inches, which is totally my thing. I’m looking forward to a wrap that will serve as a big, woolly Bluefaced Leicester/Masham comfort item for the coming days.
In the MDK Shop
Meanwhile . . .
It’s been an amazing weekend in Maine, my first visit here and certainly not my last. Son David and his partner in crime Jacob had the premiere of Lewiston, their short documentary at the Camden International Film Festival.
Up top are Maine things I noticed, one being that when you stay at an Air BnB, you often are presented with small mysteries and the feeling of being a fly on the wall or a distant cousin who’s staying over for a bit. I know that that collection of shells was somebody’s project, but was it one delirious week or a decade? Those nine smooth rocks came from someplace meaningful. And whoever tacked that New Yorker cartoon cocktail napkin to the bedroom door did that for a reason.
I do know why that coconut is there, though.
It’s a little face. Wouldn’t anybody hold onto that?
I loved hanging out with this crew.
David, Clif, Austin, Jameson, loitering.
David and Jacob, probably texting each other.
Their film explores the community of Lewiston, Maine, where one-sixth of the population is of Somalian descent. One of the families came to the screening, and it was frankly amazing to get to meet the women I’d been seeing in early versions of the film for months.
Anyway, hats off to the Camden International Film Festival, which is a 15-year-old treasure. It makes you want to look closer at things—a weekend of documentaries is like having x-ray vision into worlds you never knew existed. The black-market baby eel trade in Maine? That’s a thing.