Time: Thursday night.
Mission: Seam lace-trimmed bolero and knit enough edging to put the surrey with the fringe on top to shame. Sew on said edging.
Deadline: Saturday, 3:00 pm.
Progress:
It was a dark and sticky night in New York City, and a daunting task lay before me. The seaming came easily, and I raised a glass of lemon soda to the swingin’ chick who first received the divine inspiration for raglan shaping, because she was a hip, hip lady. But I was beginning to think there was no way I could knit enough lace trim to edge the whole jacket in time to wear it to Adam’s cousin’s wedding in Chicago on Saturday. Worse still, I had to sew on the edging, and I wasn’t willing to do a slap-dash job of it. Nay, better seams are a major goal of mine this fall, and I wanted to kick things off right with this bolero.

Thank goodness for boring airplane rides. Thank goodness for inane airline safety regulations that, although they won’t permit your minuscule sewing scissorini with the half-inch cutting edge, will allow you to wield as many twelve-to-fourteen-inch metal spikes as your heart desires. The lace fairly spumed from the needles (although somewhat less zestily from one Green Aluminum Flea Market Needle and one end of a Denise circular than it had from the two GAFMNs). My tapestry needle was a golden blur, and the edging did not bunch or gape or flop or pucker or distort my pretty little silk jacket into any other undesirable shape. I wove in the ends while visiting with all my new in-laws over breakfast on Saturday. And at the deadline, I looked like this:

The ceremony was lovely, the couple glowing, the reception riotous in the best Polish tradition (actually, it was apparently a little watered down – we drank plenty of vodka and shouted something that sounds like “groshko” (which means something like “the vodka is sour, you must sweeten it with a kiss”) a lot, but to my disappointment we didn’t get to the song that suggests the bride take a cucumber – “ogurek” – in case the groom can’t perform). It was my first Polish wedding experience, and it was a great crowd of people. And they complimented the bolero, so I loved them.

And I’m finally getting around to my public thanks to my lovely and generous Secret Pal of Excellent Taste, Minnie, who gifted me with this bounty several weeks ago:

Mmmm…yummy vanilla-scented products from Bath & Body Works, fluffy midnight-blue Katia mohair and jazzy silver accent glitz from Anny Blatt. Minnie included her favorite pattern for a moebius scarf, which I’ve been terribly curious about. Now I get to try one out – thanks, Minnie! Let’s take a closer look at that mohair, shall we?

Yep. Fabulous. Mingus has pronounced it so.

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.

I’m five days late blogging my own birthday. But one mustn’t place too much importance on these things. Suffice it to say it was a lovely birthday, complete with knitting with the girls (and we’ve named our little group – we’re Spiders! It’s Stephanie’s brilliant husband’s invention, because we all knit and we all met on the web. Heehee. So cute. Cute button TK.), Mexican food and mojitos with the girls, dessert with my own brilliant husband, and then a fun party at our apartment on Sunday:

If you look carefully, you can see Lisa and Amanda and Katie. You can also see my brother, grinning as he gets ready to take a picture of me scaling the woodpile to get this shot.

And don’t tell the fire department, but we grilled the tofu in the living room:

And Mingus, as always, was more interested in the wrappings than the presents. He was not at all ruffled to see fifteen people in his house and did his party tricks for everyone.

But the presents themselves were quite fabulous. Here, for instance, is proof that my husband is truly fabulous, and also not afraid to ask for directions in a yarn store:

That’s Noro Cash Iroha in a tasty raspberry color. It is singing the song of the Fiery Bolero if I can work out whether I have enough yardage for the modifications I have in mind. And the present parade wasn’t over: look what came yesterday!

It’s a box of Knitting Goodness from my Secret Pal in Nebraska! And boy does she have great taste. Four skeins of luscious Debbie Bliss baby cashmerino, and the first of the Barbara Walker Stitch Treasuries, which I’ve been dying to get my hands on. I had to sit down and look at all the pictures as soon as I opened it. And there’s no way she could have known how I’ve been coveting those adorable sheepy tape measures ever since I sent one to my own Secret Pal. I want to carry it around in my pocket as a little pet. A utilitarian little pet, though, unlike the miniature furry animals most New York ladies carry about in their purses. Hey, need to measure something? Let me whip out my sheep! I shall name him Shorn, in honor of Wallace & Gromit. Thanks, Secret Pal! You rock!