Did you like how I baited the weather gods with that taunt about the fifth of July and they FELL FOR IT and gave us a week of sunshine just to be contrary? Granted, it isn’t all that warm, but in the shelter of the back yard it was pleasant enough to shuck off jackets and fleece boots for a quick photo shoot with new summer pants.

Ada’s little friend Etta has a pair of these sewn by an auntie; they’re so cute I had to track down the pattern. It’s the Big Butt Baby Pants from Made by Rae, and I could sew little pants like these till the cows come home. Except that we’ll call them Big Bottom pants, because my mother reads here and she thinks “butt” is crass unless it’s a verb, an archery target, a cigarette end, or a cask of wine. No crass pants for your granddaughter, okay, Mum?

I started with the pinky-orange fabric with the jars of tadpoles (can you stand it?), which has been in my stash for a couple of years, and then chose the orange print to go with it. Turns out my orange is just a slightly quieter version of the fabric Rae used to illustrate the pattern — a coincidence, but who could resist orange with circles?

They’re too big for her right now, and that’s intentional. I made the 12-18 month size so she can wear them all summer. I’ve got a second pair cut out already. I figure she needs one for every day of the week.

(Ada is holding a very small stick in this picture; I imagine Lark is either hoping she’ll throw it or wishing to teach her what is best to be done with small sticks: they must be obliterated by crunching them to tiny bits and then rolling in them. At least Ada is already inclined to put sticks in her mouth, clearly promising to be more intelligent than either of her parents.)

Mama likes to think this twig looks a lot like a #1 double-pointed knitting needle.
Can her first pair of socks be far away?

And oh, the glories of bare feet and inquisitive fingers and real dirt to put them in! I’m taking real pleasure in watching my daughter begin to explore the little ecosystems between the patio bricks. (And fertile ecosystems they are indeed on our particular patio!) I hope it’s just the beginning of a lasting love for the natural world.

That’s my eight-month-old girl these days: keenly attuned to the world around her and eager to participate, investigate, manipulate, and mouth. She has an infectious laugh, a frank gaze, unshakable determination, a bottomless appetite, and a sense of humor. Yesterday she pulled off my hat, covered my face with it, then snatched it away and chortled at me — her first initiation of Peek-a-boo. Oh, and did I mention that her cheeks are both glorious and delectable?

Here she’s just waking up from a snooze during a walk at the Sandy River delta:

(And yes, a handknit in action — my mostly Selbu Modern cloche is still a favorite!)

My little lass is no longer quite such a terrible napper, either. On Friday morning she slept — hallelujah! — for two glorious hours. I felt as though I’d sprinted into the end zone of Mamadom and made the game-winning catch. As a dance of victory and thanksgiving, I sewed my Ada a perfectly adorable pair of pants, which I can’t wait to show you when the weather gets warm enough for thin cotton. (I made them too big for now, as this weather cannot be expected until the fifth of July.)

I’d like to be writing here more often to say so, but we are keeping well.

I’ve finished and gifted a stealth knit! Ravelry is fabulous in many, many ways, but it does make it tricky to knit for other knitters, which is why this is the first anyone is seeing of my take on this pretty shawl designed by my talented friend Kristen Hanley Cardozo.

One of the things I love about the way Kristen wrote this pattern is that you can essentially build your own version of the shawl based on how much yarn you have, how large you want it to be, and how ornate you’d like the edging. Kristen has included a pattern map that shows your best options in every scenario. I followed my own path and combined two of the edging possibilities in a way that wasn’t suggested — I liked the symbolism of teardrops becoming “heart leaves” for this particular friend in this moment of her life — and it worked out beautifully.

The yarn is Schaefer Anne in a teal and blue colorway. Anne is a sock yarn, and a tough one — it contains both mohair and nylon — but it softened nicely after a swim, and again, resilience with a bit of a shimmering halo seemed appropriate in this gift.

Another thing I like about this pattern is that it’s named for the leading lady of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, a book I was finally able to enjoy at the end of last summer during those long and multitudinous newborn nursing sessions. I’m a sucker for knitwear inspired by literature.

(And yes, this is my beautiful star magnolia bursting into life. Let us raise a glass to certain spring!)

… to drizzly days and the sadness of new teeth (Ada’s, not mine, and I can’t see them yet, but they’re making her gums swollen and her demeanor cranky, though probably not as cranky as I’d be if my gums looked like that). This is High Road, Mary-Heather Cogar’s clever design for A Verb for Keeping Warm’s Pro-verbial Club. I’m making a present of it, but I might make another for myself. The Metamorphosis is delicious yarn and well suited to small shawls: the silk content gives it a faintly grippy hand that it helps it stay put better than my all-merino neckerchiefs. It was a quick knit — or would have been if I hadn’t made mistakes I don’t understand because I was too darn tired and I still am — and the dry desert colors are everything my home front isn’t at the moment. So even if they’re not my colors, they’ve brought me some cheer. Thanks, Kristine and Mary-Heather!