At this point I’ve got little piles of knitting around the house, no rhyme or reason to any of it, like a crazy person. Looks like the goal is to have knitting located so as to make knitting possible while opening the front door, cleaning the cat box, and recycling cardboard.
This, for example.
This has been in the teevee viewing area for a while. Pattern missing in action. I don’t know when I started it. I do know it uses some very lush Camellia Fiber Co. merino that you and I bought at Craft South in June, so it can’t be older than this summer. I recall watching Homeland and chugging away with no destination in mind at all except round after round of knit purl, purl knit, then a sweet row where you blast knit stitches all the way around.
It’s actually a perfect stitch pattern—you get two rows with a little action in them, and just when you feel the tedium coming on, you get a free round of GOFORIT. It’s moss stitch with a breather.
But I knew there was more to this thing. It’s a cowl where the pattern shifts dramatically to something else, but I’d forgotten the designer and the pattern name, which really put me in a hole.
The good news is that I found the pattern the other day, in a pile of bills I paid a couple of months ago. I may have inadvertently sent the credit card company a page of this pattern, seeing as how page 3 was missing.
HELLO Essentia Cowl! By Galzanne Knits! Back in the game!
By complete stupid luck, I hadn’t overshot the moment when the pattern changes. It shifts to a simple yarnover lace.
Looking at it now, I should point out that I ditched the colorwork. Mine is all cream, all the time. And I’m not sure about that lace. Does the lace improve this cowl beyond its current incarnation? It looks a little . . . extraneous? Fancy? Maybe I should keep blasting through with the moss stitch. Simplicity or complexity?
As we lurch toward Christmas, I send warm greetings to everyone. Holidays mean different things to different people. Christmas means nothing to some, and everything to others. I remember a house I visited years ago where the Christmas breakfast for thirty was set up four days in advance, with a castle’s worth of flatware and crystal. And I remember a friend who invites home pretty much random people from a Christmas Eve church service, for a supper of soup and cornbread. It does tend to get tender, Christmas, once you have been on this earth for a while. It gets simpler and more complicated all at once. May we all revel in the simple part, and hang in there for the complicated part. I, for one, am going to eat an entire chocolate orange on Christmas Day and watch the boys open their presents, once again.
Merry Christmas to all! I’ll be back on Monday, the 28th.