I saw it in the window and I jes' hadta have it.

—Carol Burnett as Scarlett O'Hara
  in "Went With The Wind."

Unlike Carol's fabulous Bob Mackie dress made from Tara's curtains,
complete with the curtain rod still stuck in the shoulders,
I will not be embedding my circ in this version of Tara.
My shoulders have been tortured enough, thanks.

I'm fucking up simplicity. Please send tiny needles and a lace chart.

Returning from programming hell, in my blind rush to knit something I wanted that would actually be finished in this century, I had a little mishap. Involving what is supposed to be one of the hottest, easiest, fastest patterns on the face of the planet. Except that the designer's idea of where shoulders are and my idea of where shoulders are resulted in me creating a nice little One Skein Wonder for a six year old. Trouble is, it was intended for me.

Shut up. I'm well aware that I'm thirty-eight years old and have no business making one of these little slippy thingies for me. I'm past caring. Especially after trying this thing on and being so pissed off about the size issue that I threw it across the room and immediately cast on for another one.

The One Skein I Wonder What Happened was, and still is, beautifully done, if I do say so myself. I combined some of Teva Durham's leaf ideas into this pattern because I could not stomach the idea of pure stockinette. I mirrored increases, decreases, and yarnovers. I did math, people. I got gauge, even. I measured my shoulders, at the back, shoulder seam to shoulder seam, and got the small size. This is normal. I'm small. Not uncommon for me to make the smallest size in something, even with the rack factor. And this is a One Skein Wonder for shoulders, not the rack, am I right? No breasts were harmed, nay, glared at, even, in the making of this knitted item.

So, why didn't it work? Because "shoulder to shoulder" is a relative concept. She meant outside of shoulder to outside of shoulder. I did not.

Either that, or I'm a shoulder mutant. A tiny person with freakishly huge knobby things you couldn't fit into a raglan shape to save your life. This sort of raglan therapy could, however, be used in the unlikely event that my shoulder blades decide they want to get to know one another, intimately. Should I choose to undergo this kind of musculatory torture, the girls will be positioned such that I will also need a t-shirt that says, "Please speak to my face. My breasts can't hear you."

So. I'm doing this again with a view to knitting a bit longer. This will be the Two Skein Montréalaise Mutant. To match the daughter's lovely new knitted thingy. Oh, shit, I didn't even think of that...Aieeee, we're going to match.... Please believe me when I say this was SO not planned.

When I retrieve the first one from the corner into which I threw it, I'll take a picture of Twinkletoes in her fab new shrug. Some kids have all the luck. Who knew that having an idiot for a mother could result in such a lovely little unexpected gift? (Why, yes, I have, in fact, developed a twitch below my eye....)

In the meantime, I have received a gorgeous little gift from my pal in the "Better Pal Swap" (as in "Better the Pal You Know..."). She gifted me with some Frog Tree Alpaca, in black. Yum. This is what I'm using to make Tara (pattern in Rowan 38. Yes, it's a shrug. Shut up.) This is what the finished Tara is supposed to look like:

Funny, that's the look I gave my husband
when he asked how the programming was going,
and were there any clean pants to be had in the house.

However, since I'm using a slightly fuzzy alpaca, the trinity stitch used in this pattern, which results in a series of alternating puffy diamond shapes when knitted in a smoother wool, looks...well...just puffy. Not a diamond in sight. Cue pattern change, because I want to use this yarn.

I decided to use another stitch that would show up marginally better. It's St. John's Wort, from Mon Tricot, and it's very pretty. A wee bit of open work, and a four-row, six-stitch repeat (which didn't harm things too much mathwise). It's not exactly diamonds, but I'm not exactly a diamond girl.

Okay, alright, I'll admit it. Have you ever tried to purl 3 together every 4 stitches for an entire project using a very splitty, slippery yarn on tiny needles and not lose your mind? I'm not doing it. Besides, openwork looks nice.

Here's a slightly closer view of the progress I've made (Black. Fuzzy. Hard to photograph. I know I'm not very trustworthy right now, but really, this is pretty. I promise.):

I love how this is turning out.
So heavenly on the skin. So fun to knit.
So accurately measured. A brilliant rescue
from dimwit status. Phiou.

I'm using size 2 Addis. Toothpicks on a wire. The result is wonderful. And the alpaca feels like a dream. So this thing might actually get done faster than the Montréalaise Mutant in the thick yarn. I also plan on posing in Tara exactly the way the model does in Rowan. All the time. Except I'll probably wear a bra. I can pout, though. All I have to do is look at that skimpy little thing in the corner that was supposed to be for me, and my lower lip goes into pouting overdrive. I don't even need lipstick for this one.

You may have been wondering about the wheel, by the way. It's here, it's beautiful, and I will post pictures when I have entered the mindset that will allow me to feel less like overspun merino (soft as a grape and too damned loopy) and more able to learn. The end of my class, the beginning of first grade for Twinkletoes, the final medical assessments before next summer's surgery, full-time work, and oh, yes, my fucked-up knitting, have worn me a little thin. It won't be long, though, I promise. The little hitchhiker hand with the gorgeous beaded talisman on it is peeking out at me from the bag...

...but right now, to get a ride with me, you have to be patient. Perfect shoulders and curtain rod optional.

September 17, 2005 8:06 PM  | Permalink  | Comments (21)  | Print