Speechless.

Look what arrived in the mail today...

Ted Myatt decided to compile a few Shetland patterns,
and design/knit this gorgeous stole out of silk and wool.
If you don't know him, Ted Myatt is a lace-knitting genius.
Ted Myatt also knows how to render me speechless.

It is extremely hard to take a picture of oneself in a stole.
Please excuse the laundry backdrop. Also, the fuzziness.
My hands were shaking and I could have been
just a little bit teary-eyed....

Okay, so I'm not completely speechless now (wordless posting is not really my style), but I was when I opened the box. I had a sneaking suspicion that he'd made good on a promise to knit me a red stole that would look fantastic with a black leather jacket. I'd been complaining about triangles, and how every time I try on a triangular shawl, hoping to be transformed into the epitome of lace-draped elegance, I look like someone's grandmother. Or Heidi. Or Heidi's grandmother, even. But Ted promised that Shetland could be...gasp...sexy. A red silk stole would totally put it over the top and take lace out of grandma-land.

When he told me a box was on the way, I was prepared to be eloquent about its contents, because I know Ted's talent with lace. I've seen his work up close and personal. His spinning and his knitting are both breathtakingly beautiful. I was prepared to describe all the stole's finer features for you, the combination of Shetland designs, the flow of the stitches down to its last perfectly blocked point...a little miracle of silk and air. But I can't. I look at it and all I can keep muttering to myself is, "...That is just f*ing drop-dead gorgeous." Ahem. So much for the fluid eloquence of the experienced lace-wearer. Dude, this masterpiece calls for high heels and an attitude.

(Speaking of attitude, the artwork on the wall in the second shot, because I know at least one of you will wonder what the hell that is, is calligraphy on bamboo, a wedding present from me to Spiff. It reads from right to left, "Tabarnak," in binary code. Long story.)

My own knitting, on the other hand, has been a royal pain in the ass. I've been knitting the Lacy Waves top with Sivia Harding, and she's finished, while I'm still languishing in the yos and p2togs. Let me tell you, if you're merrily yo-ing and p2togging along and accidentally one of the p's decides it doesn't want to tog with the other p, you are well and truly screwed. The only thing to do is rip down and do it again. Laddering down one column of stitches to yo p2tog back up again is not going to happen on my needles. I tried. Words were invented. Family members hid in their rooms. Tears were shed. I've reknit that sleeve six times and it's now still only a half sleeve. And there's still another to go. I feel like a lameass for needing lifelines in such a simple lace pattern.

So, what to do? Practise the stitch pattern with something else. Enter, the shrug swatch. I'm doing the Little Lacy Shrug from Lace Style, only not in the flowery stitch pattern that's printed there...I'm practising my yo p2togs. I have yet to make a mistake on it. Not so for the freaking sleeve, even after practise.

Is that a big swatch you've got there,
or are you just happy to sleeve me?

I feel better knowing that Sivia had a bit of trouble with the sleeves, and if a lace designer with her level of experience says the sleeves on this sweater kicked her ass, well, then I don't feel like a complete moron. Just a semi-moronic, albeit deeply frustrated person. Except for when I threw the sleeve across the room before the fifth ripping. That was not one of my finer moments.

The front and back are done, but the lacy wave part? Not so much. That's going to require a padded room and a stiff drink.

Lacy Waves in all her asymetrically waveless glory,
plus half a sleeve. Mighty attractive look, there.
Mom, I fully intend to cover the right boob. Eventually. Promise.

I even have high hopes for actually succeeding with the sleeves this time. It remains to be seen, however, if I will be wearing this sweater at Rhinebeck, or if I'll have to make do with the shrug swatch. I'm worried about getting sheep schmutz on the stole, though I may still bring it just to gaze at lovingly. Or I may just, you know, cast on for five other things and hold all-night knitting vigils until I can manage to follow a lace pattern to its fruition.

Polartec straitjacket, anyone?

October 3, 2007 5:03 PM  | Permalink  | Comments (53)  | Print