I have no shame when it comes to boosting other people’s ideas, especially when those people are knitters as clever as, say, Jared. Six weeks ago he posted this fabulous rendition of Elizabeth Zimmermann’s Shirt-Yoke Cardigan. I wanted one of my own, and I wanted it immediately. Happily, bulky wool and size 10.5 needles were invented for the purpose of instant gratification. I whipped out my Knitter’s Workshop, and in a weekend of knitting, I had most of this:

I added some darts up the back for a more womanly shape, but I always meant to copy Jared’s idea for the side ribbing. (In fact, in my lust to knit an entire sweater body from one skein of yarn in a mere six hours, I forgot all about the ribbing. But a quick session with a crochet hook revived the dream – I simply dropped the appropriate stitches and hooked them back up purlwise.)

But whoa! What happened there on the front? Friends, I ran out of yarn. I knew it was likely. I was planning a direct rip-off of Jared’s nice ribbed button band, but the third skein petered out just as I was finishing the collar. Being too impatient to order a fourth skein from the yarn shop on my little island and wait for more to come in and then for my mother to mail it to me, risking a dye-lot change in the bargain, I went stash diving. I organize my yarn by weight, and there isn’t all that much in the bulky bin. But there were two skeins of this scrumptious Rowan Yorkshire Tweed, which I bought years ago to knit Kristin Spurkland’s Flower Hat from the Winter 2004 Interweave Knits – the very first knitting magazine I ever purchased. I still think the hat is awesome, but I hadn’t gotten around to it four years later so I figured the yarn was fair game.

I first envisioned a Barbara Walker Banana Tree pattern up the front, as seen in Starsky, but the tweed didn’t show up the traveling stitches all that well. So I picked out this pretty Double Wave cable instead. It leaves handier spaces for button holes anyway. And then I think all the Jane Austen I’ve been watching on Sunday nights went to my head. Somehow it came to me that the big blue front panel would look a little less random if there were some sort of blue element elsewhere… like embroidery. Now, I can’t embroider my way out of a paper bag. I’m sure any self-respecting six-year-old in Miss Austen’s day could have whupped my arse in an embroidery show-down. But I’m all about leaping into the deep end with things I’ve never tried.

I give you the Blue Thistle Jacket. I’ve hardly taken it off since it (mostly) dried on Wednesday.

And psst… look who’s grown!

I was raised to avoid throwing away plastic (and anything else that might, in theory, be useful – just ask my husband about my collection of dried up pens that could potentially be revived with new ink cartridges). I don’t like to add to the landfills when I can help it, and besides, yogurt containers can have long and fruitful lives after the yogurt has been eaten up. Mine generally go on to serve Tupperware rotations until their inevitable separation from their lids.

Last night neither of us felt like cooking, and we opted to flake out and have mac ‘n’ cheese and frozen lima beans. It turned out we didn’t have any milk, so I made what turned out to be a rather nice sauce of garlic, olive oil, white wine, hot pepper flakes, and the juice of half a Meyer lemon. It was quite fiery and tasty with the pasta and limas and some parmigiano. And after supper I put the leftovers into a yogurt container (in hindsight, I think it may actually have been a cottage cheese container) so I could bring them to school for lunch.

This morning I overslept and had to scramble to get out the door for my carpool. I snatched food off the shelves and out of the fridge while brushing my teeth and scooping Royal Canin Urinary Diet kibble in the general direction of the squalling cat. (Somehow this had happened the previous day as well, and in the back of my mind was a determination to do better than meatless barbeque riblets, peanut butter, bread, and a Clif bar.) I snatched up the pasta. I flew out the door.

My a.m. toast was holding me over pretty well, so I didn’t eat lunch before Bits ‘n’ Pieces, a student variety show that happens occasionally at school. It went on twice as long as scheduled, with kindergarteners playing impromptu recorder compositions with titles like “People Running,” third-graders performing theatre of the absurd, another third-grade lad reciting his poem from the viewpoint of a shoe (“Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Oh, we’re on the soccer field. Dribble. Ow. Dribble. Ow. etc.”), and the like. Contemporary performance artists have nothing on our Littles. We closed with some very talented older musicians (notable piano performances of a Hiller piece and the theme song from The Office), and by that time I was starving.

I fairly dove into my bag for the leftover pasta. I prised off the lid as I trotted toward the microwave, only to find that I had brought along a container of … moldy yogurt.

P.S. This is, in fact, still a knitting blog. I have a new finished sweater to show you, too, but I rarely see my photographer husband during the daylight hours. Cross your fingers that enough light may penetrate the lowering cloud cover and drifting mizzle we’re scheduled to enjoy for – apparently – the entire foreseeable future, and you might just see a picture over the weekend.

Oregonians don’t get to vote in presidential primaries today, but if you live the half of America that does have that chance, will you please take a few minutes to mark a ballot? I think there’s a flame kindling in Americans at last — I see it in the record numbers of voters turning out in the early states. I want to think this country is waking from complacency and finding it has strength for right action. I want to think we could elect someone to lead us, not to govern us — someone who might ask us to serve our country and our world with our brains and our determination and our energy rather than encouraging us to contribute by going shopping. These are testing times. I want us to pass, and to reach for more than just passing. By voting, at least we’re writing our names at the top of the page. So if you have the chance today to speak your mind about the future of this country, please make yourself heard. Thank you.

Blue Garter hasn’t had a blog roll in a long time. Mostly that’s because there’s a wee issue somewhere in the code that causes my posts to appear below the sidebar in certain browsers, which makes me nuts. And I’m not clever enough to add a new tab at the top instead. (The power to address these issues does, of course, sleep on the other side of my bed, but asking for tech support is like poking a caged bear with a sharp stick, so I choose to live with bloggy imperfections.) But I do read a lot of knitting blogs, and several kind folks have recently given me the nod for the You Make My Day tag that’s sweeping the internets. I feel the need to pass along the niceness, and the opportunity for readers to discover something fresh and new the way I have in following others’ links. So herewith a handful of the knitterly blogs I especially appreciate.

Knitting Kninja

Kristen is the best friend I’ve never met: we bonded over our love of Lloyd Alexander’s books and only later discovered we both kept knitting blogs. Not only does she produce beautiful knits and offer her own clever patterns; she also writes formidably well and with passionate spirit. Plus she has three of the cutest kids on the planet.

Elliphantom Knits

Gorgeous knits with perfect finishing, beautiful photography, great patterns, humor – she has it all. And her little ghosty knitting elephant banner triggers my cuteness reflex every time. I want my blog to look like hers when it grows up. 

Domesticrafts

Enviable photography, Red Sox love that makes me pine for Boston even though I’ve never quite lived there, squeezable cats, and knits that inspire me because she always thinks of color combinations or unexpected details that I wouldn’t. You must see her Rambling Rose cardigan in progress.

Cranky is Good

Daphne is an excellent knitter, but there’s so much else I love about her blog – cycling, Jane Austen Masterpiece series coverage (and Jane-inspired patterns!), thoughtful commentary on the world beyond the sticks and string, mad sewing skills, and more.

The Knitting Philistine

Megan can crank out perfect handknits like nobody’s business. She also makes awesome soap that really does wake me up during my morning shower, and she’s an archaeologist, and she’s a talented photographer.

Rndnrnd We Knit

I’d like to be able to knit like this someday. Sigga Sif is always knitting exciting patterns I haven’t seen before, too. And she can take a mean photograph. Check out her galleries of finished knits.

And this is totally cheating, but Ravelry makes my day, too. Some of the best knitters I know don’t keep blogs, so it’s fabulous to have this internet agora for the craft. Long live Jess and Casey.

In other news, I’m still twiddling my thumbs waiting for some decent winter weather. Could we get just one snowfall on the east side of Portland? I’m thinking of going skiing this weekend just so I can feel the squeak and crunch of snow under my boots in the parking lot, let alone the exhilirating hiss of it under skis. I haven’t skiied on Mt. Hood since I was on the racing team in high school, and that’s a terrible state of affairs. I’m off to rummage in the basement to see if I can’t dig up all the necessary equipment.