Kilometers are shorter than miles. Save gas, take your next trip in kilometers.--George Carlin
The 503 mile roundtrip from Wharton, NJ to Reston, VA is 809.5 kilometers.
Now doesn't that sound exhausting?
It's so good to be home again, back in Morris County. I gotta say, Reston and Herndon are two of the most soulless places I have ever visited, including Toledo. All concrete, impossible traffic, and more malls than God intended anyone to build.
If I've offended any Restonians or Herndonians, tough shit. I'm a Jersey girl, whaddya want?
I refreshed my jaded palate by visiting with Joe and Thaddeus yesterday down in New Hope, PA, one of my favorite places and definitely two of my very favorite people. Not that I needed to drive more but it's a mere 57 miles from my house to theirs. And certainly far more fulfilling a trip.
Naturally, Joe and I went to Twist first. Naturally, we both bought stuff. Every time I walk into that place, I buy stuff. Deb Brady just knows what to stock. So here's the damage.
Two Elsebeth Lavold books. I haven't seen any of her more recent books, not since the second one, which I didn't care for. But these are gold.
Naturally, I had to buy some Silky Wool to make this sweater from Book Nine.
And yes, as ever, the ball of sock yarn to add to the collection.
(I did not bring my camera, so if you want to see a lovely mugshot of moi reveling in my purchases, Joe put one up on his blog.)
I love to shop with Joe. We have almost identical tastes so we're terrible enablers of each other. Which makes it all the more fun. Read all about the folk-art fish on his blog. I'm really tempted to go back there and buy it, if it isn't a gazillion bucks, which knowing New Hope prices, it probably is. And I have no idea where the hell I'd put it. But I want it.
Boyfriend Myth Solution
I don't believe that crap. However, I think that if you feel a pressing need to knit for your boyfriend, the solution is a pair of socks. For starters.
After all, not everyone LOVES handknit sweaters. My brother won't wear them.
Blasphemy. So bite me.
I had started this design last year and then it got lost in the shuffle. So I resurrected it, got some Soft sock yarn and started a pair of socks for JT. He doesn't know he's getting them yet, but since he does read the blog when he thinks of it, he'll find out. This is his reward for keeping me electronic company in VA so I wasn't too lonely.
I worked on these socks during the little downtime I had. As Joe says, if you don't travel for business, you have no idea how little free time you actually get to knit.
Now, this is a type of broken rib pattern, based on a 2/2 rib. The purls always remain constant, but the knit stitches are broken with purl, alternating every other unit. I stretched out the sock so you can see what I mean.
The nice thing about this stitch pattern is that the purl breaks do not diminish the rib's natural stretchiness. And being an 8-stitch repeat, it works nicely for socks.
If JT's a really good boy, he might get a sweater next. But only if he asks.
More Small Shit
The Julia yarn that Kristin gave me when she was at my house was burning a hole in my bag this week but all I could do were the socks. So today, I started my pillbox hat design, for which I had done the charts. This is lovely yarn to knit with.
Obviously, I haven't gotten very far but I'm liking it. It seems to me that for the past year or so, I've moved away from the bright colors that I generally seek, like a magpie seeks shiny things.
It's time to go back to my colorful roots. Heh. I think I need to think outside the box, to use an express I generally abhor.
Do you all find yourselves stuck in a color rut at one time or another?
(I'm even thinking that my hair color is in a rut. I'm tempted to go a bit darker. After all, I've never made any bones about being a bottle blonde.)
So maybe just because I'm going to be 57 (or 37, as I believe I am mentally) next month, perhaps change is in the wind.
Just sayin'. Alert the media. Oh, shut the fuck up.
You Read It Here First
I'm going on record to say that I will absolutely warp the loom within the next 10 days. If only to shut JT up. He's been razzing me about it.
I'm going to put aside the Morehouse warp and go back to the cotton warp for the kitchen towels. And just try to get something on the loom.
Will tatting be next? Now there's a rare and handy craft for which I have no talent. And no use.
Postscriptum: I want to go on record by saying that the Men Who Knit and the Dogs They Knit For, or whatever the fuck that book is called, is filled with the fugliest designs I've ever seen. Yeah, I know. It's a Modesitt creation. It's totally hideous. Gets my award for the worst knitting book of the year, bar none. So have yourselves a flame-o-rama. Ugly is as ugly does. That's my story and I'm sticking to it, as I always do.