Texas Thanksgiving

I spent a marvelous Thanksgiving down in the hill country of Texas. It was beautiful, with such a distinctive color and texture palette, and it kicked me into inspired crafting mode!

Soaring live oaks

Darling old farmhouse (where we stayed)

Dovecote

Cow face

Rusty barbed wire

Corrugated metal

Rusting out old cars

When I flew into Austin, I made time to swing by Hill Country Weavers, which is probably the most incredible yarn store I've ever been to. I was particularly impressed by their organic and eco-friendly yarn selection. If my bag hadn't been so full, I would've definitely come home with several projects worth of yarn! But I did treat myself to a pair of Addi Lace needles and from then on, knitted like the wind!

And just what was it that I was knitting? I finally picked a yarn for my final Vermont shawl -- Miss Babs "Yet" in Verdigris -- and by the end of the trip had finished about half of the shawl. It's so hard to see cramped up on a needle like this, especially washed out by the bright Texas sunshine, but you'll have to trust me: it's gorgeous!

gray & green

Snapshots from my apartment on a quiet Saturday morning ....

Shetland sheepskin (from Charlotte's farm)

vintage miniature muffin tin

rustic wool on an old milking stool

odd little hat being blocked

sunlight across my 1920s stove

The hat is a top-down cap that I whipped up over the last few nights, using a gray yarn from Hope Spinnery and (when the gray yarn ran out) a naturally-dyed wool that my friend brought me from Paraguay. I feel like a little wood elf when I wear it.

on the move

Things are moving again! It all started this past weekend, with another sweet visit to Claybrook Farm. Patches, a roly-poly Shetland sheep, was certainly on the move, running to dinner as fast as his little legs could carry him ....

The chickens were on the move, too, darting and scratching around the barnyard ...

I did manage to catch one, having learned how on the last visit. I tried to take a self-portrait-with-chicken, but it kept moving too much! Ha ha!

Anyways, it was a splendid afternoon. We played with animals. Drank hot chocolate. Admired Charlotte's incredible quilts.

And this time, we finally took a trip to the Iron Horse yarn shop. What a gem! I think I petted every skein of yarn in there ... it was definitely a much-needed infusion of fiber and color energy, and it's kicked me out of my crafting malaise!

*sigh*

Has it really been three weeks since I last posted? I don't know what's going on. A series of little disappointments, I guess.

rain on the window, uninspiring light

endless swatching

a too big hat that I need to unravel

*sigh* And the biggest disappointment that kicked off this craft/blog malaise was that my Rhinebeck yarn quest failed. I did not find yarn for my final Vermont shawl. It may be time for a local yarn crawl this weekend ...

Rhinebeck

yarn, resplendent

smiles, shawls

goats

sheep

wabbits

Ravelry fanatics

autumn memories

narrative of the pink shawl

Saturday afternoon. Outer Spectacle Island, Sebago Lake, Maine. Sitting on a rock, working on my shawl in the late afternoon sunshine, surrounded by good friends and crisp autumn air.


I worked until my fingers were aching that night, and I bound off the next morning. I plunged the shawl into the cold lake water ...


gave it a good, hearty shake ...


and pinned it out on the forest floor to dry in the dappled sun. It was a much earthier blocking than my shawls usually get (usually it's a pampering in lavender wool wash and a careful pinning on the bed) ....


but it did the trick nonetheless! Here's a close-up of the outer leaf lace before blocking:


And after blocking, with the leaves fully opened up. The magic of lace blocking never fails to amaze me!


And with that, the shawl is done. And I'm in love with it.


It's taken nearly a year to get to this point (many, many months of procrastination and vague planning + one month of actually knitting), but I think it was worth all the effort it took to re-engineer the pattern. It makes for a much softer, organic flow to the lace.


And I even fell in love with the color by the end! I'd been struggling with the girliness of the yarn -- Madeline Tosh Prairie in "Mulled Wine" - but I have to say it was beautiful in that afternoon light.


And in a poetic twist, that little island was a treasure trove of honest-to-goodness pink leaves: oak, maple, Virginia Creeper, highbush blueberry.


I've decided to give this shawl to my friend Amy, who taught me to knit and whose family house was on this tiny island with pink leaves. If my Rhinebeck quest works out, I should have the yarn for the final shawl by next weekend. It'll still be a while to knit the shawl again, polish the pattern, and release it ... but I am so looking forward to have this pattern out there in the world!

PINK

It's high time for an update on my overly pink shawl. It's getting voluminous enough that most of the time it looks like a big blob, all scrunched up on the needle.


But spread it out, and it blossoms into foliage!

I'm really happy with how it's turning out. I've spent a ton of time re-engineering the increases: rather than the stark doubling rows of a traditional pi-shawl (which you can see in the original version), I've worked the increases into transitional lace sections.


The only thing that I'm not thrilled with is my yarn choice, or more precisely, my colorway choice. The yarn -- Madeline Tosh Prairie in "Mulled Wine" -- was an impulsive buy in my local yarn store, whose soft indoor light made the yarn look decidedly less pink. The yarn is nice and springy, but the color is just way too girly to look autumnal. And every time I pull it out, I find myself singing a campy rendition of the song "Strawberry Wine," which is terribly annoying. So ... we'll see ... I think it's a beautiful color, just not for this shawl, and maybe not for me.

Once the pattern is all finished, I may dye the whole shawl a deep, warm, earthy brown with black-walnut hulls, which are ripening in this season.

Oh!! And I almost forgot: I've decided to go to Rhinebeck on a quest for the ultimate yarn for this shawl. Let me know if you'll be there too!

weekend

fly

climb

knit

fly

harvest season

Late September is an exquisite time to be back in New England. It's so rich with earthy aromas, deep colors, heartier food and drink, and soft air. It triggers all kinds of memory and nostalgia for me. Yet I'm happy to be discovering new experiences here too -- like the grape harvest.


I went back to Connecticut to visit family and friends last weekend, and one of our adventures was a jaunt out to the splendid Jerram Winery to help with their harvest. It was an overcast day, but really so lovely. The foliage is already beginning to turn, but the air was still warm enough to have bare arms.


It was a wonderfully fun and casual affair. We each grabbed a pair of orange-handled clippers from the bucket on the porch


and walked out to the grapevines, heavy with fruit. We'd set up on either side of a vine, place the cartons below, clip off the grape clusters there, and then move along down the row.


The hours went by quickly, with laughter and conversation and sticky fingers. And before long, the end of the afternoon was upon us. The grapes went into the crusher ...


and we retired to the front porch for a celebratory tasting!


The wine was delicious, and the Jerram family was super warm, welcoming, and just plain fun. Who ever knew that the Connecticut grape harvest could be so amazing?