FO: Plethora of Hats

A cold chill has swept the land.  After a bit of petered-out hurricane Gonzalo blew through England, it went from balmy and windy, to rainy and windy, to cold and windy in a 24 hour period.   Sweater weather!  Cuddly hats and snugly scarfs and indulging in all sorts of edibles that you've been turning your nose up all summer.  Sweet potatoes and soups and sweet potato soup, squash and crispy sweet apples and I've not turned down any offers of hot chocolate.

I've been plugging away on hats.  It's become a bit of a joke in my knit circle: another week, another hat.  And it's true, I've been knocking out about one a week.  These aren't difficult patterns, and most of them are worsted-weight, so it only takes me a few hours a piece.  

As always, fantastic gifts.  All of these are being flung to the four corners of the earth.

First up: 

The Botanic Hat, a clever little Stephen West Beanie.  It's completely reversible, and looks remarkably different when you give it a flip.

See?  The best thing about this is that when I finished, I weighed the leftover skeins and realized I had enough for a mirror-image:

The pair of hats used exactly two skeins of Rowan Lima, an alpaca yarn that makes me rethink alpaca yarn.  It's velevety.  Instead of being twisted into plies, it is chained, so it makes for less drapey structure-less fabric as it seems to behave much more like wool.  It's not bad at all..

Another creating- the Windsor Hat.  It's a free pattern on the Rowan site and I loved how feminine and girly it was (and I'm not a girly girl by any means).  The pattern was a huge pain in the ass though- it was written Rowan-style to be knitted flat, which is as complicated as you could possibly get.  Still- it is slouchy and warm and after a glance at the pattern, I was able to improvise and knit it in the round, and all was right in the world once again.

The yarn was an odd skein of Creative Worsted, a wool/mohair blend, and the pink was leftovers of Swans Island worsted Merino from my Wayfarer scarf.  

This bad boy is going to a friend of mine who just moved from a balmy climate to a cold one:

It's the Greenery hat.  I made an extra-thick brim so it can be worn as a big slouch or doubled over the ears (which hides the cabling a bit, eh?).  The yarn?  Ah, the yarn.  A few skeins of wool yarn I picked up at Monoprix in Paris out of pure curiosity.  While I miss Monoprix badly (like Target in the US, they had great chic clothes) this yarn was not the best.  It was really dense- this hat is heavy!- and had a weird acrylic-like squeak even though it was pure wool.  It's not terribly scratchy though, and I think it will keep a head very warm.

Finally:

I used all the scraps that haunt the flat from the ghosts of hats past and made a Kex hat, another  reversible beanie from Stephen West.  I've been making a ton of his patterns lately...I just find they are brilliantly unisex and uniquely constructed.  

I have some more projects to flaunt, but some are gifts and need to be gifted first, but I'm enjoying this sudden drop of temperature to inspire me to cover everyone I know in wool.  

Vacationland

I'm not going to lie.

Maine, in summer, is heaven. It's the most perfect place on earth. Warm sunny days, cool nights. I can forgive the occasional sticky days (hey! It beats being in NYC!) and sometimes it will rain like it does in Paris, without break for days. I continue to return.

Everyone always asks me what I miss the most about living abroad. I can't honestly answer until I'm back in the states to see what I've been missing, at which point I can barely contain my enthusiasm for all things American...except for this cardboard substance they call "bread" that dares to grace my plate (alas, a lobster roll on a baguette seems just wrong. Sorry Frenchie!) I miss friends, I miss family. I miss good mexican food. I miss trying wines that aren't made in France...French wines are fantastic, but I know nothing about what lies beyond at this point as you can barely get a Barolo on a good day, never mind anything from Napa. Bourbon and cocktails that don't taste like sugar water. I miss friendly, and above all, helpful service. I miss how inventive food can be. I miss bitter greens.

But, while home, I miss about France: bread and pastries, real cheese that runs and smells and is full of bacteria and flavor, and the casual attitude surrounding alcohol and drinking in parks. What do you mean I can't sit outside and drink a glass of wine? I miss the amazing peaches and melons and plums that I can't stop eating in summer that you don't get that far north.

Anyway. Maine. Summer. It's perfect.

I generally split my time between the Southern Coast around Portland, and then the ancestral homeland in the far desolate reaches of the North woods. A perfect balance.

I don't have so many pictures of my Southern Maine adventure as a great deal of time was spent out on the kayak or on the beach and I don't have a waterproof casing for my camera...so therefore, the bald eagles go undocumented, along with dozens of other beautiful bucolic scenes. I did spy a happy whale cloud though:

Maine is the kind of place where I'll say, "oh, what a cute old building!" and upon closer inspection it will probably be a yarn/spinning/used bookstore of sorts.

I was pretty spoiled for wool this trip. A trip to the Swan Island showroom was delightful.

There were many, many blankets and soft merino yarns coveted that day. If you are going to live someplace that is inhospitable from October to May, you might as well have at least one of these thousand dollar merino blankets to see you through.

I was just so happy catching up with old friends and nibbling on the simple summer pleasures: corn on the cob, lobster rolls, clams, crabcakes, lovely wild blueberries. I have to keep reminding myself of January just to keep it real.

FO: Wayfarer Scarf

Wait...I'm a knitter?

Yes.

All the way from my home state came two skeins of organic merino.

Not all merino is created equal. This is the best I've ever had the pleasure of working with. Swans Island has amazing yarns. Soft, bouncy, itch-free, and warm. It's exactly what I want in a wool yarn. The price tag is higher than the medical marijuana users there, but who could resist the most delightful of raspberry pink colors? I, for one, could not.

I cast on for the Wayfarer scarf, a basic but classic Jared Flood pattern.

It alternates between lots of garter stitch and an undulating slip-stitch pattern. Not the most exciting thing to knit, but I love the way this yarn made the slipped stitches pop, and I was comforted at the ease at which this worked up.

It's snuggly warm and I actually look forward to going out on cold days because I get to wear this.

I made mine a tad longer than written since I had the yardage, and I just love the way it drapes as I give it the multi-wrap treatment. After several wears, there is not a pill to be plucked. If I didn't choose such a shockingly femme pink, this pattern would be totally appropriate for a man's scarf as well.