Here are my new digs:

And this is where I ply my needles:

Yes, I am knitting! This is the first of my Sockapaloooza socks, Nancy Bush’s Dalarna pattern from Knitting on the Road. I’ve had to modify it a teeny bit for my limited resources. I only have US #0 needles (the pattern calls for #1s), and Dale Baby Ull instead of Wendy Guernsey wool. And because it’s the first time I’ve made socks for anyone other than myself (or my mother, who doesn’t count because her ankles and feet are the same size as mine), I was nervous about the leg shaping. So I cheated: I’m keeping my stitch count the same and working ribbing down the back of the sock instead of following Nancy’s instructions for shapely stockinette decreases. This way it will fit just about anybody, unless my pal has very large calves. I’m thinking we all should have included a leg circumference measurement in our Sockapaloooza specifications.

It took me a long time to settle on a pattern for my pal. And because I didn’t have access to the stash yarn I was originally planning to use (it may be in California now – cross your fingers!), I was forced to buy extra sock yarn while I was weighing my options:

Quiet, O Ye of Little Stash. I know I have no self control. But I know exactly what these are going to be, see? The Lorna’s Laces is for Conwy, and the STR is for the Traveller’s Stockings. I’ve wanted to make both these socks for ages. I may even do the Conwy socks in time for my mother’s birthday. There, isn’t that noble? Stash acquisition doesn’t count if it’s for gift knitting, right?

Next time I’ll show you my progress on Hourglass, I promise.

I do! The Spiders know how to send a girl off in style, let me tell you. You’d never believe the loot they gifted to me at my goodbye supper last night, so I’ll have to show you:

More gorgeous roving than even Mingus knows what to do with, TWO handsome drop spindles to spin it on, and a totally fabulous knitting tote from Lexie Barnes. This bag rocks, my friends – it not only has lots of nifty pockets for needles, patterns, and accessories; it’s waterproof so it can stand up to the rigors of knitting in Portland! It’s even insulated, tempting me to pack a couple of cold ones and a picnic in there with my WIPs (when the weather improves). And it’s madly, gaily stylish. Portland is SO not ready for the awesome combined fashion power of this tote with my leopard galoshes. Throw my ridiculous Lulu Guinness umbrella with the primping poodles into the mix and I’m going to be the Captain Planet of accessories. I can’t get over the incredible generosity of my friends, who have not only managed to provide practicality and beauty in this gift, but have also challenged me to pick up a new skill and fly with it. I love you, Spiders! We’re not even going to talk about how much I miss you already, because words can’t express it.

New York City has decided to favor me with one last beautiful snowfall before my departure. The icy little flakes are gilding the berry clusters on the mystery tree I never did manage to identify (a blow to the pride of this woodland girl, I can tell you) and sizzling down the chimney onto the firewood I’ll never burn. I’m drinking one last glass of tea from the adorable shop downstairs before I pack away the kettle and the last of the glasses. It’s a bit of a woebegone day for me. Tomorrow the movers will come and I’ll have one last hurrah with my Spiders. And then on Tuesday we’re off to the next chapter. Time is passing shockingly fast. In fact, I’ve wasted more time staring out the window at the snow than I’m willing to admit.
So let’s turn to more cheerful thoughts. When I alight in Portland, it will be Spring. I’d almost forgotten how much earlier the season comes in the temperate west. My belle-mere, with whom we’re settling at least for the first couple of months, is an excellent gardener. I’ll have the chance to really get my hands in the dirt. In no time I’ll be photographing my knitting among the tulips and rosebuds instead of against the brick and concrete of my deck here. Mr. Garter’s mom is also a lapsed knitter, and she gets inspired when I’m around, so I’ll have a companion in the craft. And I’ll have all this to knit up:

Behold the European yarn haul: an absurd amount of chocolate tweed wool/alpaca for the Cabled Riding Jacket (I’m so nuts about this stuff I’m thinking of asking my friend in Milan to bring MORE when she comes to the States in April); enough wine-colored wool/angora for a sinfully soft, lacey sweater I’ll probably design myself; and two yummy hanks of wool I’ve earmarked for some kind of fair isle mitten pattern. Not the Pirate mittens, I think – the colors aren’t piratic enough. I’ve been eyeing that Foxes & Geese mittens book, whatever it’s actually called, and maybe there’s something in there that will call to me.

So much fabulous knitting to be done, and I’ll have lots of time for it, at least for a couple of months. Definitely something to look forward to. I’m scrambling to finish Cozy for my sister-in-law so I can hand it over when I see her in two weeks, and I had to dash off a pair of my favorite Koigu ruffle-rib booties for new baby Tyler, whom my cousin produced in February:

But it’s almost time to cast on something new. I’m bringing everything I need for the Hourglass Sweater – what’s better car knitting than endless stockinette? – as well as my trusty Montse Stanley in case I need to bust out a provisional cast-on on the road. And I’ve had one sorry Retro Rib sock languishing mateless in my drawer since October, so I’m bringing the yarn for that, too.

I’m chasing the sun west, my friends. Good things must follow. Change is opportunity. Now if I can just discipline myself to finish packing the last two $*@#ing boxes…

The European adventures have concluded, and I’m back in familiar New York. I’ve bailed my cat out of jail and returned to the routine of packing boxes for the Big Move Out West. Talk about post-vacation reality checks! We’re still working on loading our photos onto the computer – we shot raw images and the computer is apparently a little more geriatric than I would have believed. So unfortunately, we haven’t gotten up to the one of me knitting at the hockey game, or displaying my incredible yarn haul in Milan. But here I am at La Droguerie:

Note the paper bag in my left hand, which contains a modest two skeins of yarn, some beads, and some buttons. We had the Ryan Air baggage restrictions to consider for our flight to Milan, so I held myself well in check. Such was not the case once we reached Milan, which contains what must be one of the best-kept secrets in the knitting world: Lanar. This unassuming shop, tucked back in a courtyard on a street that receives little tourist traffic, caters to a lot of machine knitters and offers some of the best deals on bulk quantities of high-end yarn I’ve ever seen. The yarn appears to come straight from the mill, and they sell it by the half kilo. Friends, I made out like a bandit. For a mere 60 euro, I came away with enough lush chocolate tweed 80% wool / 20% alpaca to make a Teva Durham Cabled Riding Jacket and some soft wine-colored DK/worsted wool/angora for a simple sweater. Pictures of that to come, I promise.

I also finished my Olympic knitting project. I’m not going to display it here just yet because I haven’t come to a decision about whether to submit it for publication. I’m leaning towards just offering the pattern here, and it needs some reworking anyway, but my Spiders will see it in person and the rest of you will see it sooner or later. Sorry to be all mysterious! And now my allotted blogging time is up and I need to dive back into the boxes and wrappings for another hour or so. The blog may be sporadic over the next few weeks, but I promise more consistency beginning in April, when we’re settled in Portland! Thanks for your patience, everyone.