summer roadtrip to remember

How fast the summer is slipping past.  It seems like just last week that I was beginning my exhausted, end-of-the-semester exhale and looking forward to recuperation. But in fact that was a couple of months ago. Where have the summer months gone?  Disappeared in the blink of an eye.

It hasn't been nearly as relaxing as I'd hoped. But one thing I do want to remember is the June roadtrip that Mountain Man and I took through the four corners area.  We headed north out of Phoenix, up past Flagstaff ....

Watched the late afternoon light play across Monument Valley. Sun-baked. Surreally beautiful. 

And camped that first night in the Goosenecks State Park in Utah.  As the sun went down, the desert cooled off.  It was a glorious place to sit with a glass of wine, letting the relaxation of vacation sink in.

From there we headed further north in Utah for a brief bit of climbing in Indian Creek and camping outside of Canyonlands state park. But it was HOT. Too hot to enjoy ourselves. So we tossed our plans aside and headed east into Colorado.  Stopped en route to see Mesa Verde, which was absolutely incredible ...

And then wound our way up to Telluride. We spent almost a week there, rejoicing in the cool mountain air and spending our days on the hiking trails.  I really fell for Telluride.

So did Isis.  She was in heaven, really.  Rolling in the snow, chasing marmots, and curling up in camp at night.

When the vacation days were winding down, we got back on the road. Spent a couple of days exploring Ouray and Silverton, then kept on southward into New Mexico.  Our last real destination was Chaco Canyon.

What a long, dusty, dirt road to reach it.  We arrived in the late afternoon feeling parched and tired. Pitched our tent in the campground, filled our water jugs at the visitor center, and went off to explore the ruins. We were not disappointed!  It was magical. The drive through the canyon was beautiful, with the afternoon light casting long, warm shadows, and the ruins were stunning against the rock cliffs.

The next day was our last day, with a long drive back into the Arizona low desert.  We made one stop along the way at Shiprock -- which I'd seen from an airplane several years earlier and had been wanting to see in person -- but didn't stick around long.  It was thoroughly unhospitable. Beating sun. Broken glass everywhere. Only sound was an old beer can being blown across the sandy earth. We clambered up to the dike for a better view and then hightailed it out of there.

Big Little Davy Sweater, Part 2

I bet you'd like to see how the real baby "Davy" liked his sweater ... 

Hurrah!!  Success!! Happy baby in a handknit!  

When I visited them in Chicago back in April (which should give you a sense of what a backlog of posts I have, sheesh) the sweater fit little Davy perfectly.  It was soft and stretchy, just right for this wiggly 6 month stage. 

Best of all, his parents really do use the sweater. It became the go-to cardigan to grab when buckling him into the stroller/carseat thing. The wide sleeves made it easy to put on, and it was still big enough to fit over a couple layers of pj's, shirts, etc.  I snapped this with my iPhone the first night I got there -- I was so tickled to see them using the sweater that I wanted to send Mountain Man a photo. 

As for the vintage book that was the inspiration for the sweater (see the last post for that story), little Davy liked that, too.  See him happy in his mama's lap as she reads him the story ... 

so happy he wants to get a little closer ... 

a little closer ... 

CHOMP!! 

heh heh. Maybe asking too much for him to like it just yet, but we had a good laugh about it.  

Big Little Davy Sweater, Part 1

It's been (yikes) two months since I've posted here. I never meant to be gone so long.  But I come back to you with knitting and a good story to share.

This spring, I finally put the finishing touches on a baby sweater for a friend's little boy.   It's a simple top-down raglan with stripes -- the Little Coffee Bean Cardigan -- knit in worsted weight yarn.  Simple, I say, though goodness knows that it took me months to finish!

I bought the yarn back in November from JP Knit & Stitch when I was still living in Boston.  It's Spud & Chloe 'Sweater,' which is a cushiony, machine-washable organic cotton and wool blend. It's the same yarn I used in my Sprout Blanket.

I love everything about this cardigan. The yarn. The stripes. The thick ribbing. The buttons.

I especially love the story that goes with it.  Two years ago, I went to a friend's wedding in Washington, DC (posted about it here since I knit a shrug to wear).  We had to walk from the ceremony to the reception, and of course Mountain Man and I got there early because we're fast walkers.  So we passed some time in a used bookstore around the corner.  

I found a wee book there. It was a children's book from the 1940s, Big Little Davy, with a linen cover and a darling story about a boy growing up.  I had no need for such a book, but I was really taken with it.  I told Mountain Man that someday I'd have a friend who would have a baby boy and would appreciate this book.  So I bought it, put it in my purse, and carried it through the rest of the evening's festivities. 

In a poetic turn, that friend turned out to be my first good friend to have a baby boy. I knit this sweater for her son with colors to match the book.  Isn't that lovely?

As you can see, the whole book is in colors of sepia and teal. It's utterly charming.  On each page you see Davy growing bigger and doing more things: bringing in the milk bottles, taking care of the pets, helping his father in the garden, and so on.   I love to imagine a mother in the 1940s reading this to her son, and I was so happy to share it with my friend.

I wrapped up the book and the sweater in paper, tied with a bow of the blue yarn.  Mailed them off to my friend ... who you shall meet in Part 2 of this post!

exhale

It's the end of the semester now, and I'm finally getting a chance to exhale.

It's been a tough few months with very little time to relax and reflect, which is why I've been scarce here. Working hard. Shoulder to the wheel.

Don't have much more to say about it except to say that even in the midst of the strain there were moments of beauty.  I'm surrounded by a spectacular landscape. When I've taken the time to open my eyes, as I did when Mountain Man visited here, it's gone straight to the soul ...

with wonders small (seafoam and sand dollars) and large (sunsets).  And now that I'm through the trial-by-fire of my first semester of teaching, I'm hoping to be able to open my eyes to these wonders a little more.

I haven't been knitting much, by the way, but I do have one sweet project to share with you. Next post ... coming soon ...

Big Sur to Joshua Tree

A couple of weeks ago, it was my birthday -- a lovely spring birthday if I do say so myself. To celebrate, Mountain Man drove up from Arizona on his magnificent new motorcycle, and we took the weekend to drive back down the California coast.  I thought I'd take you along on our adventure. 

 

We set out on Friday night, taking off from Berkeley, having a nice dinner in Palo Alto, and then heading down to Monterey. No pictures of that, I'm afraid, as it's hard to take snapshots when you're speeding down the freeway in the dark of night!   But this enabled us to get a good start on Saturday morning.  As the morning fog rolled out, we were cruising down Highway 1 along the Big Sur coast.  It was BREATHTAKING

We had great fun stopping along the way to see the Elephant Seals. What comical creatures they are, conked out about the beach, snoozing in the sunshine, tossing sand on themselves now and then. 

When we got down to Morro Bay, I had a good time watching the sea gulls, too.  I know they're noisy, bothersome jabberers, but I like 'em. 

By early evening we'd made it down to Santa Barbara.  We were staying with friends up in the hills, and there we could stretch our legs, recover from the road, and watch the sunset with a drink in hand. 

Sunday, we turned east. Inland.  Past the wind farms on the flanks of Mount San Jacinto. Then turning north towards Joshua Tree. 

We ended the evening -- and the weekend really -- in Pioneertown.  It's an old movie set built in the 1940s for Westerns, now sorta revived with a roadhouse that was bringing in one of our favorite indie singers that night.  We camped beneath a Joshua Tree ... 

with tumbleweeds blowing through. BIG tumbleweeds. Big, scratchy brambles they are.

 

We had a good night indeed, capped off by champagne in mason jars. Love it. 

And thanks for coming along on the adventure with us!

blocking for good or evil

This is the story of how a hat evolved through blocking.  Everyone -- myself included -- has waxed poetic about the magical powers of blocking.  What I forget sometimes is that those powers can be used for good or for ill!  Let's start with the hat: 

Fresh off the needles, it's a big, juicy berry. Looks like I plucked it off a tree!  The yarn is a gorgeous, artisanal, naturally-dyed, aran-weight, thick and thin wool that I splurged on five years ago at the Taos Wool Festival.  It was called "Como Boucle" from La Lana (which I'm sad to say has now closed its doors).

The pattern is the Picholine Hat from the Tunney Wool Company, with a few modifications in stitch count based on the needles I had on hand.  Now, at the end of the pattern you're supposed to block the hat over a plate.  I soaked the hat in warm water, stuck a dinner plate in the middle of it, and then balanced it on top of a tall glass so that the ribbed brim wouldn't be smooshed.

It took two days to dry like this. And it looked strange, very strange indeed.  Not unlike a UFO, especially with the trippy tree shadows stretching and waving across the backyard.

And the result? Dreadful. I may look happy, but that's only because I'm laughing at its absurdity. It was like having a dense pancake attached to my head (and, yes, I did remember to take out the plate).  

I had to re-block it.  I'd just seen a blog post from Stephanie Japel where she blocked a hat over a bowl, and I decided to give that a whirl.  This time the set-up involved an upside-down bowl balanced over a very tall glass bottle, and I pinched the spiraling lines to help them "pop" a bit.  

Still looked strange, strange enough that the neighbor's cat came over to investigate it ... 

But it did the trick.  Brought it back to a rounded, casual, slouchy shape.   

It's easy to wear and will be a nice splash of color and warmth for my sister, who's enduring a dreary late winter in DC.