As promised, a shot of my haul from yesterday’s cruise. Fall ’05 Vogue Knitting: check. Coupon for 10% off at The Point next month: check. Cascade 220 in a beautiful heathered red, Gedifra Stripes in citrus, Manetto Hill Fiero in blues and greens, and a shameless little tease of ArtYarns supermerino in a colorway I think is #137: check. (The ArtYarns thing is killing me – I’m in love with the color, which is shades of pinky browns, but this is definitely not enough yarn to make anything. Obviously I’m just going to have to buy more, but where to find it? Let the odyssey begin…)

Observe also the old-fashioned zinnias I picked out at the farmers’ market yesterday. They were a little token of affection for my husband, who completed his triathlon in a personal record time of 2 hours and 21 minutes. Way to go, honey! Anyway, I’ve always vaguely liked zinnias, but the big showy modern varietals aren’t something I can imagine growing myself. These adorable little zinnia buttons, however, have completely charmed me. I’m making room in my fantasy garden for a lovely big bed of them next to my fantasy house.

I also promised a picture that would show the colors of the sock.

In Firefox, these are skewing to red and yellow more than is accurate. Imagine the greens as grass shading to deep turquoise, with more rich blues shading to darkest navy. The purples are deeper, too. (My camera doesn’t handle greens and blues as well as I could wish.) In IE, it’s all going to show up really dark. Whatever. It’s a beautiful sock, and you’ll just have to take my word for it.

Alas, my beloved No. 5 Green Aluminum Flea Market Needle has been widowed. Her mate was tragically lost on a Bronx-bound C train last night in a scramble to disembark at 59th Street when said train suddenly announced it was going express. I stuffed my lace edging hurriedly into my bag, which I did not zip closed, and by the time I transfered to the 1, the needle was gone. Not only does this make me peevish for the utilitarian reason that it’s my only pair of #5s and I wasn’t finished with the lace edging (fortune smiles upon me: the Denise circulars I’ve borrowed from Amanda for the Lotus Blossom Shawl are also #5s). It’s that these needles are such a beautiful shade of shiny green, like the under-canopy of a sunlit forest, and they’re probably older than I am, and I was so happy to find them at the flea market for a measley couple of bucks. That needle soldiered so faithfully through its one and only project, the lace-trimmed bolero (and it brought out the bronze highlights of the Chai silk so spectacularly), as it’s probably done for hundreds of other projects for other knitters before it came to me, and now it won’t get to knit anything else again. The best its poor mate can hope for is to be involved in a three-needle bind-off, and that, my friends, is a sad fate for such a useful needle. These babies were indestructible. I could have still been knitting with them sixty years from now. Look for me haunting the flea markets in search of…well, I may need a little time before I can think of another pair of #5s as replacements.

Behold the finished Feather-and-Fan socks, cavorting in the sculpture garden at the Museum of Modern Art. The socks really wanted their picture taken with their favorite Calder stabile, but there were a ton of tourists seated all around it and the looks they were giving me were funny enough from across the pool. So the socks got to leer at this lovely and forbearing Nude instead. Then they demanded their own picture.

Because these little puppies are Art all by themselves. They’d like to thank Lorna for the excellent Shepherd Sock in “Sand Ridge”, and the clever knitter who first realized that the Old Shale pattern would make a sweet pair of socks. I didn’t actually follow the famous Socks, Socks, Socks pattern because I don’t have the book. I pretty much just looked at other bloggers’ photos of them and winged it. I may have even invented my own sort of heel flap. I think I shall call it the Twisted Mistake Reverse-Stranded Slip Stitch Heel. I’m owning the errors, by gum. Anyhow, I’m pleased as punch with these little beauties. Good thing, too, because I’m making a pair for my mother with some tasty Mountain Colors she picked out next.

In addition to a finished pair of socks, I have a small knitting eureka moment to show for this week: entrelac. Turns out it’s much easier, and much more fun, than I could have guessed. How do I know this? It’s all thanks to my pal John. John is my dealer at the LYS. He’s also the generous kind of fellow who will encourage you to plonk yourself down at his spinning wheel or pick up his latest WPO and try a few rows to get a feel for the latest crack he’s pushing. I get to take credit for introducing John to the joys of Malabrigo, but he’s the one who let me knit up a little of his haul on Thursday night so I could get a taste of the entrelac blanket he’s making. It’s not as complicated as it looks, and it’s a totally good time, especially when you’re using soooooooft Malabrigo that looks like leopard print. Huzzah for entrelac! There may even be some in my own knitting future. But not until after Christmas. Must. Not. Start. Any. More. Projects.

Brunswick, Maine is one of my favorite places on this green earth. We were just there for the wedding of two college friends, so unfortunately it was a short trip, especially considering the sixteen hours we spent in the car. But Maine is decidedly worth the trek, and we happily larked over our old stomping grounds and relished the greenery, the smell of the salt sea, and the more temperate weather. No visit is complete until we’ve had our toes in the sand of Popham Beach, above. And I was scarcely less eager to stop at Halcyon Yarn in Bath, conveniently on the way to Popham and to the resort where our friends had their reception. Halcyon is not only one of the great Local Yarn Stores in New England; it is also the first place I ever bought yarn (six skeins of Lamb’s Pride to make scarves for my grandparents!). Had I been thinking clearly, I would have taken some pictures of the hallowed space. But who can think clearly around so much yarn? Anyway, I lost all capability of rational behavior when I saw this:

Serious knittin’ booty, my friends. This is the elusive and currently unobtainable Malabrigo worsted weight merino. I’ve heard this stuff praised to the skies all over the internet, and I can gleefully report that none of the ovations have been unmerited. If you’d given me a skein in a blind grope test, I would have sworn it was alpaca, or possibly even a generous cashmere blend. It’s that soft. And the color? Brilliant geranium, just the remedy for another dreary winter in New York. The charming kettle-dyed (I love that phrase: kettle-dyed) variegations are just quirky enough to remind me that this yarn was made by real humans, which makes me all the fonder of it. I’ve been meditating on a second Clapotis in a winter weight and fiber, and now I know it’s meant to be. Much to Adam’s amusement, I kept a skein of my precious Malabrigo in my lap to fondle as we drove. It’s as good as a favorite stuffed animal, I tell you.

This wouldn’t have been a proper outing without a parting shot (no pun intended) from the sock. Although I mostly worked on fixing one of my most boneheaded knitting moments yet (with the sleeves of the bolero – would you believe I ripped out the wrong one, and so had to reknit them both?), the sock was not neglected. Unfortunately it didn’t get to cavort on the beach; it would have felt very much at home in that grey-blue-sand landscape. Here it’s posing with a recent addition to my college town: the Udder Place drive-through coffee shop. My “Ole Tangle Eye”, a mocha made with Mexican chocolate, was mighty delicious. I’ll finish this account of the trip without dwelling on the rather horrid drive home: I fully intend to wipe my memory of those mind- and bottom-numbing hours in traffic. At least I had my Malabrigo to comfort me.