steek geek

I've been knitting for almost 50 years now. What an amazing thought! I got my first acting role in the first grade solely on the basis of the fact that I could knit. I played Mrs. Claus in our Christmas play at school, and was on stage almost the entire play, knitting in a rocking chair. I did have one line:

"Santa, don't forget your scarf!!"

I've been given permission to knit a kingly vest, to kingly specifications. If there's one thing I know about knitting for those of the male persuasion, it's that those specifications have to be taken seriously! Otherwise, you might as well just knit a sweater for yourself, because the noncompliant garment will never be worn. Even compliant garments don't always get worn. . . .

Here's the original pattern picture.
My mandate includes a thinner yarn, hopefully with more of a gray tone. Here's what I have so far. You will note a plain knitted panel in between the 2 cables (those twisty bits) instead of a cardigan opening. That's because - hold on to your hats - I am finally going to try a STEEK.

A steek involves scissors and knitting; knitting and then cutting your knitting up the front.

That's what I said.

"Cutting".

Here's someone else doing it. (I don't know what's up with "Owls") And I'm going to master it now, too! 'Bout time.

First, though, I have to finish the vest. That's what makes this whole process so nerve-wracking: you don't cut the vest until the very end! If it doesn't work out well, that's a lot of work for naught. But people have been doing this for years. I figure it will be good for my nerves.

Knitting with scissors. Should be interesting!

(Oh, and I'll also be adding Elizabeth Zimmerman's afterthough pockets, which also involves scissors. I'm on a roll. . . .)

the stockings were hung by the chimney with care. . . .

Luther's favorite toy. OK, ok. . . . His super-Kong, if loaded up with a tasty treat, takes precedence, but without a treat, this is what he goes for!

The request. To make in multiples for all his friends!
Easily done. Gray flannel fleece (don't use regular regular fabric - or flannel - as it shreds and the strings are easily swallowed/eaten).
Cut into 2 inch strips and 4-strand braid with knots at both ends and one in the middle. Excellent for tossing, catching, flossing, keep-awaying and tug-o'-warring! There's almost always a bit of fleece in the remnant box at my local craft shop. . . .

His pack hounds and relatives will be over the moon on Christmas day. Now, if I can just keep Luther out of the Christmas cupboard!

privacy settings

Facebook has revamped its privacy settings, allowing you to control who-sees-what of what you post there. I can now post pictures, for example, that only my mother can see. I can post the link to an article just for my liberal friends, and another article for the conservative ones. Or I can post under the 'default' setting - which is 'everyone'.

Blogs have no such controls. If you post it, it's posted. "Privacy Settings" are exercised by not posting. . . .

All this is by way of explaining why I haven't been posting lately. I imagine that words and pictures that include other people inevitably give rise to differing privacy expectations. As soon as I sort out the different expectations, I'll be back.

Meanwhile, there's a Christmas tree at the Greenwood.
It's the first Christmas tree I've put up since Nana died - and that's been a long time ago now. She died on Thanksgiving Day, 1992 I think it was. I'll have to check with my brother, our family's 'historian'. He remembers things like that. I remember sitting in the library of the I house I lived in then, playing Moonlight Sonata on the white piano stenciled with what turned out to be poison ivy vines. I was crying. I remember peeling potatoes into a paper sack in the living room, overcome then with feeling and the words: "It's all right. Everything is all right." And crying again. But a good crying that time. Smiling and tears. . . . and then the phone call that she was gone.

On the tree are little knitted mice - like she might have made, except I did. And stars. The one on top is knitted! Yes, he's rotund. Delightfully so!
Then: old keys. I've collected them for years. Perhaps it's a privacy thing, but from the opposite perspective: I am fascinated with what they might open. . . .