Dainty Bess. How pretty and simple you were in the beginning, and how frustrating you got to be in the end. Not because the pattern got difficult, but because that ball of SeaSilk WOULD NOT END. I was determined to use as much of it as possible, so I just kept on, and on, and ON, until I realized that I better knit that edge strip and bind off or I'd be ripping back. I think I had an entire yard of yarn left, but I'm okay with that. 

I love the way this turned out. I didn't give it an extensive blocking; I just steamed it open with my iron, and I think that's good enough. If I get motivated, I might pull out the ol' blocking wires and give it a proper blocking, but it looks damn good (if I may say so) just the way it is. And so, because I was done with that project, it just makes sense that I'd cast on for something else instead of finishing something I've already started!

Hence:

This is Twist, by Chic Knits, in Paton's Merino Wool that I bought on uber sale at Michael's. I mean, come ON. 2 skeins for $7? That's almost 500 yards of yarn for the same price as a single skein of Cascade 220! It was begging for me to bring it home and to be cast on. Who am I to deny the deep need of a cheap (yet 100% wool) yarn?  Hence, the start of a sweater. Which is really funny considering that I live in Texas and we don't really wear sweaters all that often.

I know. I make no sense.

Why yes, I AM still knitting these days, contrary to my current obsession with my sewing machine. I've been steadily working on the Dainty Bess scarf that I started on my trip to SAFF; this is an older picture, but the only thing I had on hand. It's twice as long as that now.

The laceweight that I bought at SAFF and had custom dyed for me arrived last week, and y'all. Y'ALL. Ms. Melanie does one kick ass job of making my yarn super pretty.

She asked what I wanted, I gave vague direction in the way of "silvery gray", and man, oh man, did she come through for me. The base yarn is from a very small company that wasn't even on Ravelry and it's 100% silk laceweight. I have no clue what I'm going to do with it as of yet, but trust me, it's going to be something spectacular. I can't just use that on any old stole, you know. It's too pretty.

However, the next few weeks are dedicated to this:

I have cross stitched stockings for my family, and my daughter's stocking needs to be done. We're a few scant weeks away from The Big Day, and I'd like to have this hanging there for her on Christmas morning. I've got a LONG way to go on it, though, so knitting and sewing are going to take a backseat to this until it's done. And then I think I may never cross stitch again – this one broke me. There are a bajillion little color changes and tiny details that, while pretty, make me twitch a little as I'm stitching on it. I'd rather knit a wool thong than do THIS again.

Stages of a Quilt:

See pattern.

Stalk fabrics.

Buy fabrics.

 

Debate on how fabrics look together.

Stalk more fabric.

Decide that first fabric was right, stash additional fabric purchse.

Hope husband doesn't notice.

Cut fabric.

Cut MORE fabric.

Realize that if you'd been doing this on the table instead of on the floor, your back probably wouldn't hurt as much.

Curse softly.

Sew first blocks together.

Take dorky picture of first blocks.

Sew LOTS of blocks together.

Attempt to lay them out in a pleasing pattern.

Spend two hours trying to lay them out in a way that doesn't make your eyes cross.

Give up and just sew them together willy nilly, because really, all of those patterns together isn't going to just magically look soothing.

Decide that's how you wanted it to look in the first place, dammit.

Sew together backing.

Let someone convince you that you can machine quilt it on your own machine.

Start quilting.

Think mean thoughts about overly-ambitious quilty friend.

Finish quilting.

Realize that you don't have enough of any one fabric to bind it.

Decide that since it's already such an eye test, you might as well bind it with random scraps you have left over.

Cut strips from scraps.

Sew into binding.

Attempt to lay quilt down in living room to pin binding down for sewing.

Quickly jump out of the way when your husband screams because you are blocking the TV during one of the biggest games of the year.

Sew binding onto quilt.

Flip and handstitch to backing.

And handstitch.

And handstitch.

And handstitch.

Finish handstitching.

Take pictures.

Bask in glory.