First Snow

The first snowfall of the season was rapidly followed by the traditional invasion of the kitchen. There is now chili in the slow cooker, a pumpkin pie out of the oven, and bread waiting in the wings. DH and I acknowledge that this is a primal reaction to snow, but since it's one that we share, we enjoy responding to it.


We are also enjoying the serendipitous outcome of a minor calamity this summer - we returned from our summer vacation to discover that four (4!) partying squirrels had fallen down our chimney and died. September entailed the animal-removal guy tearing out the gas fireplace and part of the damper in order to remove the corpses. To our surprise, we discovered that the former owners had sealed up some pretty andirons and some well-used fireplace tools in the uncleaned fireplace. The next expense was a thorough chimney cleaning and repair (and a screen and some new tools). I still think it likely that we'll install another gas fireplace at some point, but meanwhile, there's nothing like this:


when outside it looks like this:


The children agree:


In knitting news, let's see. I spent the summer on a dishcloth knitting jag:


as well as knitting Leyburns (Ravelry link) for everyone who held still long enough out of Patons Stretch Sock yarn:


Now Christmas knitting has commenced.

Bloggiversary

Blogging on a regular basis is hard. And feels a bit like shouting down a well. But because I believe that it will get easier with time, and because I've just discovered that my sister-in-law's bloglist labels me a knitting goddess (who knew?), I've decided to keep at it for another year. My goal will be to publish a post every weekend. I think I can do that. Unless we go away for the weekend...

Speaking of which, we went away for the weekend just before Christmas. The family get-together was severely interrupted by the weather, and I learned a valuable lesson about the place to which we are planning to retire, to wit,

this:

results in this:

Or put another way, being holed up in a motel room watching a blizzard, while not conducive to visiting relatives, does result in the completion of ones first pair of argyles. At least in my case.

I vowed to learn how to knit argyle socks over the summer, but didn't actually get around to it until this fall. Since my brother-in-law volunteered to be a guinea pig, he got the first pair for Christmas.

Yarn: Knit Picks Essential fingering weight, in Navy, Ash (looking tan instead of grey in the photo for some reason), Dusk, and Burgundy

Knit Picks was the only place I could find solid colors of sock yarn. The yarn was lovely to knit with, and knit up very smooth, warm, and soft. I am used to sock yarns with a lot of twist, so my brother-in-law is on notice to let me know if they don't wear well.

It took me entirely too long to realize that the Rule of Pull Skeins does not apply to this yarn. Instead of finding the outside loose end tucked in and pulling the yarn from the center of the other side, for this yarn you pull from the same end the outside yarn was tucked into. As a result of my failure to recognize a trend, I managed to eviscerate nearly every skein used in the completion of these socks.

Pattern: Leisure Arts' Argyle Socks

Mods:

• used the same color for both cross lines, instead of two different colors (I had enough trouble coming up with these colors; it's not my strong point);
• changed all the k1, sl 1, PSSO 's to SSK's;
• refused to wind bobbins, preferring to have my minions unwind the skeinish tangles a la Franklin Habit's wonderful cartoon in It Itches.

I did measure and cut the burgundy lines, I'm not crazy. But they're knit in, not duplicate stitch added later. I considered that option, since the pattern offers it, but my mom (my consultant since she made more than a few pairs back in the day) was appalled by the prospect.

It was so much fun I've cut the pattern down to my size and am knitting myself a pair in grey with blue and red diamonds and navy lines. I'm especially charmed by finally managing to continue mattress stitch from stockinette into ribbing while maintaining its lovely invisibility. I just wish I knew how I finally did it. It just clicked. I hope it stays clicked.

Denial

I drove my regular route to work this morning, for the first time since last week. We had a little rain Sunday night... On Monday morning I discovered that three out of four routes to work were under water. "Turn around, don't drown!" the cheery public service ad runs. It's remarkably effective on someone who grew up on an island and had recurring nightmares about plunging off the causeway and winding up under water in a car.

I gave the waters Tuesday to subside, and successfully took my regular route this morning. I gave the creek a stern glance as I passed, and got back, "What? Me? I'm just a little old innocent piece of water here, minding my own business. Sure, I may get a little high, but it is Spring. Overflow my banks? Ten feet up the road on either side? Are you sure you haven't got me confused with an actual river? I'm just a creek, you know."

The trouble is, I had seen this creek on Monday, and although I had seen it over the road in past years, now I knew what it was really capable of. But I sensed that it was both embarrassed by its complete lack of restraint and proud of what it had managed to pull off.

So I didn't respond. There's no arguing with an attitude like that.