The Kittawake Hat

In case you haven't already seen it, here's Panera Erik wearing his woolly crown. Well, he says it's his gangster hat for when he wants to rob places, but we all know it's impossible to feel like committing felonies when wearing Starmore designs. Or misdemeanors. Bad language, on the other hand, can still flow pretty freely. Ask me how I know.

He's been very good to the knitters, and, well, we all know how knitters show their appreciation.

Aleta took this picture and I swiped it from her.

And that's about all I have to say about the hat.

Spring Fever

I've got the worst case of startitis. Making myself even crazier than usual. I've spent hours and hours this past week browsing ravelry and my extensive magazine collection. (Side note -- hey! Did you know you can log your magazines on ravelry now? I've already logged two out of my nine boxes of magazines and have added patterns from them to my favorites list. Love it!)

So, to begin at the beginning of my almost crippling case of startitis, one week ago tonight I was struck with a wicked urge to start something new. Never mind that I have lots of great projects already OTN. I finished something on Monday, and therefore my crazy knitter gene went into overdrive on Tuesday.

I spent most of the afternoon staring longingly at a couple of bags of yarn clearly visible from my desk. They're stashed behind a piece of furniture, so you can't see them from almost anywhere in the room except my desk.

I stared at pink yarn for a bohus.

Silvery blue yarn for the Mendocino cardigan by Alice Starmore.

Shetland yarn for the Fair Isle cardigan by Veronik Avery.

Stared and stared.

By 7 p.m., I was ripping apart my bookshelves in a quest for patterns. I think if I could have found the bohus pattern, it would have been on the needles. Took me two hours to find the copy I made of Mendocino, and by that time, to be candid, I was overwhelmed by the urge to cast on every single pattern in my collection. I was almost paralyzed by it.

I decided to stall and keep working on the OTN patterns for a little while longer. I knit a few rounds of the lace blouse, a few inches of a ribbed sock leg, and a few more rows of St. Brigid. The more I knit, the more the urge to start something new faded. I saw this as a good thing.

Then two funny things happened. Two people did something unexpectedly nice for me over the weekend. Without getting into detail, one involves someone who really helped my family in a way I'll never forget. My family has been in turmoil for months, and this woman -- who knows nobody in my family except me -- has blown me away with her kindness and generosity.

She needs a white hat. Good guys always wear white hats, right? So back I went to the startitis frenzy, until I found this gem of a pattern in ravelry. I already have the right yarn in my stash, and so this will get cast on as soon as I can locate the yarn. It's here somewhere! But seriously, how adorable is this hat?

Eye Candy and Brain Food

Dear Tricia,
You can look, but you can't touch.

That's the Eye Candy. Now for the Brain Food. I just heard of something really wonderful started by a pair of college girls who are tired of bad behavior being left unchallenged. They want to make a difference in this world, and they've found a way to do it. It's called Nickels for Change, and in their words,

Every time we hear something sexist, rape-defending, victim-blaming, or flat-out misogynistic (an also just plain prejudice - whether it be sizeist, classist, racist, ableist, or anything else), a nickel goes into Our Jars. We plan on doing this for a year. At the end of the year, the money will go to a charity that works towards ending violence.

This sounds like a fine idea to me, and I've already added two nickels to the jar. The first is in honor of our friend Catherine who, as I heard it, responded to an anti-gay rant with grace and dignity. The second is due to the comment on the blog where the Nickels for Change initiative was announced. You'll know the comment when you read it. It's the one that says Indian men would stop raping if they got laid more often.

In other news, I spent the afternoon knitting the lace skater's top at Nana's with a table full of people I want to see more often. Great time. Any day now, I should be able to actually share knitting content. Shock, right?

This Has Little To Do With Knitting

My parents returned from their winter residence last Thursday. If there was ever any doubt that my dad is awesome, that doubt was firmly removed when he handed me this little care package.










































These are Norman Love chocolates direct from the artisan's shop in Florida. Those of you who are Food Network afficionados might recognize his name from the Challenge series. He sometimes judges the confectioner's challenges.

And trust me, these handcrafted chocolates taste exactly as you'd expect. They were made by the guy good enough to judge everyone else. They're decadent and delicious and make Godiva (which I love) taste like Barbie chocolate from the toy store.

My dad is awesome. Clearly. And how much does he love me? A ten-piece box much. That's a lot.

With their return came a flurry of events. First my sister took over the kitchen to make a clutch of princes and princesses out of sweet stuff. The dresses are fruit roll-ups, yo. Best part? Watching her try to roll out yellow starbursts to make the crowns.























Then we set fire to a cake in honor of my niece's birthday. Good times. There was also a cousins' slumber party at my house, complete with a wii tournament, sledding in pajamas, and chocolate chip pancakes.





















In the midst of all this birthday shopping, Danger Boy scored a new ripstick. He's managed to ride it several times without ever drawing blood. Benefits of maturity?




















I show you all this in lieu of showing off my knitting. There has been knitting. I just can't show it off now. Someday I'll explain that. But also not now. :) The kid is due home from school in mere moments, and family madness has claimed my life for the moment. As Martha would say, it's a good thing.