Sad Trombone

A couple weeks ago, I was dutifully scooping up clothes off the floor and throwing everything in the wash.  A 50 minute 30c cycle later, I hauled everything out and started hanging it out on the clothes line outside, when I came across something balled up in the middle of the laundry bolus that puzzled me greatly.

What on earth was it?  It looks like flat bread or a nacho or something.

Oh.  I somehow managed to not notice my Damask lace shawl had been wrapped around the shirt I had been wearing the day before, and in my overzealous laundry-doing it ended up in there with the unwashed masses.

This had become a wardrobe favorite.  While I normally don't like really lacy frilly things, this shawl was manageable, and I would draped it around my neck a couple times and it was so soft and warm and elegant, and the YARN!  Sundara silk merino, with a beautiful peachy blush.  It was my favorite and I wore it quite a bit.

  

It was a bit of work, but I loved every second of it.  It also brings back memories of living in Paris- I sat in the Tulleries in the late afternoon sun and plugged away at this, and blocked it on my futon before donning it until it got too cold to have holey-lace around your neck.  

And now, it's about a 18" across and a solid, unbendable mass.  But look, you can still see the perfect nupps!  It's like a archaeological dig to find ruins and then piecing it together and theorizing what it looked like back in its glory days now.

Rather interestingly, because the silk didn't felt, it kind of looks like boucle yarn.

I'm a bit sad about it, but somewhat amused.  In all my years as a knitter, this is the first such accident to take place.  I know from rumors and secondhand information that many of the gifts I had sent on have ended up in this state, but I've never self-sabotaged.  This is an epic fail.

Lesson learned.  I was going to give it to a friend with cats for bedding, but someone else at the pub chimed in and grabbed it.  Novelty fabric perhaps?

Well, I loved it enough to want to make another one, perhaps in blue.

FO: Orchid Thief Shawl

This was just one of those patterns.

It's the Orchid Thief by Ysolda.  It was so very lovely, and I've been wanting to make it for a while.  It came from a book called "Brave New Knits", which featured a host of well-established but young-ish knitwear designers, and wispy, winsome looking models.  To me, it was the perfect sized shawl- not so small that it would drape around your neck without always coming un-draped, no so large that it might be cumbersome and frumpy.

It also seemed to be rushed through production as the pattern had dozens of mistakes in it.  It seemed like the person who proof read this before printing was bit by a fox (blind drunk) or maybe had no idea what they were doing, or both.  I noticed right away that something wasn't right.  I found the errata online and I was able to get through it, and I went on for quite a bit with no issues, but then the instructions on row 86 made me put down the project and shove it into the darkest recesses of the couch for a week.  The transition from the lace diamond section to the leafy section at the bottom edge was driving me all sorts of batty, and I knit and it ripped it out several times.

Bonus Routemaster double-decker bus action!

Eventually, through a couple Ravelry searches, I found that everyone else was insane over this row as well, as the instructions were confounding and it is hard to tell where things should be lining up.  A few people took the time to actually write out the pattern by hand and were kind enough to share.  This is what saved me.  I ended up following the new instructions blindly as it was my very last chance to get this before I dumped gasoline on it and flamed the whole thing.

Well, it worked out.  If you make this, good luck with it and search around before you get to row 86.

The yarn is Sundara fingering Silky Merino in Summer Sangria.  It's dyed gorgeously, with tones of peach and apricot picking up the light.  It's my go-to yarn for shawls now, and a generous 500 yard skein means that I can do most small shawls with no yardage issues.  HOWEVER, I was tempted, as I am often, by doing another repeat of the small triangles as I thought I had PLENTY of yarn at that point.  I'm glad I didn't, as I wouldn't have.  This is why so many of my shawls have a contrasting stripe at the bind off.  For once, the urge to use up all the yarn was overcome by having a correct shawl of one solid color, and I'm very pleased with the results.    



The finished shawl, along with some tea and cakes, got shipped off to the USofA in a care package to someone in need of a pick-me-up.

 

FO: Damask Shawl

A beeyooteeful lace shawl to dress up my summer, and to wear until it falls apart for the next 10 autumns. Behold, the Damask.

I love it. I've been wanting to make a more complicated lace bit for a while, but I get stuck on how much time they take. They don't really, it's usually the chart-reading that consumes time for me as I have to constantly be referring back to it and scribbling out line by line as I go. I made a little bargain with myself: There is 158 rows in this patter. If I forced myself to do two rows a day, I will be done in 11 weeks or so. That sounds do-able.

And like magic, three weeks later I was done! Poof! The pattern was so lovely to make and well written and well charted, I just couldn't stop. I'm positively thrilled.

I guess the easy deadline motivated me to finish early. I wore it all summer and I love it. The pattern starts off on the bottom edge with a shitload of stitches, so each row gets progressively smaller, which helped with the optimistic finish. It has the most astoundingly intricate looking lace pattern that will cause you to spend much time admiring your own handiwork throughout.

The yarn is a skein of Sundara Merino/Silk fingering in "Porcini". In France, it's a "cèpes"! But still. Lovely color, and this yarn is perfect for lace and something you would want wrapped around your neck.