So innocent; it doesn't know the ball winder awaits.

I think it’s important to learn how to tell when your gifts are less awesome than you think they are: the amount of work you put into a knitted something for someone can distort your perception of how good a gift it is. Pragmatist that some part of my brain is, I’m deeply grateful that I’ve got the kind of relationship with Mumini that I can say “yo, that sweater: fly or die?” and she can be like “lol, no. Try again.” We tight.  For me, one of the big warning signs is (or should be, if I wasn’t too dumb to shut my ears to it) when I’m working backwards: I see a pattern and think “daayyyum, that would be a sweet knit! I wouldn’t wear it, though…who can I knit that for?” and the next thing I know, I’m watching eagerly as a nervous family member unwraps a bobbled monstrosity with cat-toys dangling from the sleeves.  ”You see? You just dance around and the cats can play with them! Isn’t it awesome? Check out the detail on the ferret!”  Suddenly, your family has a behind-the-back nickname for you, and nobody wants that. Self-criticism sounds bad, but when done properly, it is a treasured skill.

Anyway, I’ve begun the process of unravelling and restarting this sweater. But you remember how I said I made it well? One of the things I did really, really well was weave in the ends.  I’m having a bit of trouble finding the end of the yarn I used to seam the second sleeve. I’ll be an aardvark’s butthole if I’m about to cut anything, since one of the points of this whole exercise is to harvest and reuse yarn that is otherwise wasted and I’m going to squeeze every noodly inch out of this thing.  After an hour or two of finangling and cursing, I decided to take a break and have begun unwinding another sweater, one I started after this blogsite was born: Purple Olive. Time to kick myself in the pants and say “You haven’t got enough purple Merino Supreme for a top, ya dizzy broad!” I bought a ten-ball bag of Merino Supreme in eggplant some eight years ago and have tried to turn it into a sweater/top/cardigan on four separate projects. It. Is Not. Enough. Yarn. And I am sick of trying.  I started unravelling it, with a perhaps disproportionate sense of glee.

I think there must be some sort of psychological attachment to that quantity of yarn; I feel like I have an obligation to turn it into a sweater, or a vest, anything as long as it’s a unified garment. Sheesh, obligation to yarn? No sir. It is with surprisingly deep pleasure I announce the thick woolly sock project:



Aran weight socks. Yes please. I’m still unravelling the olive sweater, with the intention of making it into a vest, possibly something scoop-necked, possibly something shawl-collared.  Unsure at present time.

But some days, it doesn’t matter how much love there is, I just get plain fed up.  I get frustrated with the slowness, and it doesn’t matter how many times I murmur “this is quality: it doesn’t happen fast” through my gritted teeth, I’m powerless against my impatience.

Like Checkers: a gorgeous scarf, delicious yarn (half of which I dyed myself, and of which I’m justifiably proud), and an interesting new technique.  I couldn’t be less interested in it if it was made of peas. I’m so over it.  Yeah, yeah, knit one with first yarn, bring both yarns forward, purl one with second yarn, sweep both yarns back.  I get it.  Now finish up, already.  I’ve learnt the lesson, now I just want the results.  This is the simple psychological fatigue that comes after the challenge is gone.  Shown here, for interest’s sake, is a closeup of the alternating stitches on the needle.  I actually have an excellent photo showing how long the damn thing is (hint: over a metre), but for some reason WordPress struggles to upload portrait-oriented photos without losing the detail that tells it which way up they go.  I’ll deal with that later. Right now I’m trying to find the gumption to do a few rows on this scarf every night, so that I can at least finish it before Winter is over.

Then there’s Purple Olive.  I reached a milestone recently: I used up the last of my dark purple Merino Supreme, and yet the pattern remained unfinished.  Alert readers (hi Mum!) will have observed that I anticipated this, and had a contingency plan securely in place: I frogged the hood, down to the collar, and the yarn was reinjected into the lower section of the body. But I’m not happy about it.  In the absence of the cute hood, the collar simply looks sprawling and gapey.  Without a hood, the whole thing just becomes a slovenly jacket, and I don’t know that I need any more of those.

This is all very frustrating.  You may recall, with fondness, the burst of Finish-Everything-Itis I had earlier this year, which was closely related to the seasonal arrival of I-Have-Nothing-To-Wear-Itis, when I decided I was going to finish up everything on the needles before I cast on anything new.  That didn’t last too far beyond the first batch of impatience.  I have, in the past four days, cast on two new sweaters.  One, a plain stockinette, top-down sweater I designed myself out of Barbara Walker’s Knitting from the Top Down, in delicious black Merino Supreme (which reminds me, it’s pay week: must see about restocking).  The other is the Simple Knitted Bodice, a pattern I have knit before and adored.  The last one I made was in dark purple bamboo yarn, which promptly stretched unbelievably across the sleeves and then was accidentally tumble-dried into oblivion.  This one is in dark green superwash, which, while less sexy, I think will be more wearable.  Really, that’s all I’m going for at this stage.

Honestly, I am increasingly frustrated with the absence of gorgeous winter tops in my cupboard.  Especially now, when Winter is in her heady peak: every morning I drive to work in mist and silver veils, and I ache for a fitted, slightly Gothic (or at least vaguely cool) warm top to wear to work, especially if it’s one I’ve made myself. Still, no time for despondency: I have two new tops on the needles, and they are requiring me to crack on with the knitting.

Spent the day working on Purple Olive, which is going beautifully thank you very much. I’m a bit worried the sleeves are going to be a little baggy after the elbow, so I haven’t cast them off. But I was tidying the stash today, and happened to pull out the bag containing all my Purple-Olive-To-Be yarn, and…
…bugger. That’s a ball and a half, and I’ve still got the entire lower body — that is, everything after the armpits — to do.

Luckily, I found some skerricks of yarn in some old swatches; I’ve unravelled them and washed them. They’ll be ready to work up tomorrow. And I’ve found someone on Ravelry who has a single ball for sale, so hopefully I can get my hands on one last ball. If the worst comes to it, I’ll unravel the hood and turn it into a collared, zip-up jacket rather than a hoodie.

I had a flu shot on Monday, and it’s knocked me about a bit. One of the things you’re supposed to learn with Addison’s is to support your immune system consciously. Normally, after a vaccination, your immune system starts chugging away, making the required antibodies to make you immune to whatever your shot was against — in order to this, it needs a little extra cortisol. The adrenals normally step up to the plate on this one and provide, but mine are stuffed and I have to take extra tablets. I didn’t yesterday, and consequently drifted through the day like an irritable noodle.

Today I managed to pull it together and took some extra, and I feel much more alert and useful, but generally cranky. As if it’s an insult for people to dream of asking my help (or, you know, expect me to do my job or make my own lunch) when I should really be getting on with…well, I don’t know. Staring at the keyboard, there’s a job that needs doing.

So! A random post! I wasn’t sure how long I’d hold out in the blog department before I resorted to one of these, so that’s that question answered (churning through ‘em!).

{Random 2}

My Bendigo Wool Mills order arrived, huzzah! This was awesome: following the shocking realisation that I didn’t have that much yarn (shut up) available for whim and impulse, I made a few sizable purchases. My Cascade 220 order we’ve already admired, and now it’s the turn of my Bendigo Babies. Look at those balls! Massive! I love those big balls! (That should scare up a few more Google search results.) There’s between 800 and 1000 metres of each colour, so that’s enough for some little, snug-fitting sweaters for yours truly, which is nice.

I love it when Internet shopping arrives. I love it even more if it arrives one afternoon, after a tiring day at work, the house is just starting to warm up and the Autumn wind is blowing…

{Random 3}

Now that Wintergreen has made her triumphant debut, I’m realising that a scarf does not a winter wardrobe make. I needs me some woolly tops! And that means it’s time to turn my attention back to the Purple Olive, who has been resting while I waited for the appropriate DPNs for the sleeves to arrive. And now they’re here, and Purple Olive sleeves are zooming ahead.

I’d forgotten how buttery soft this yarn was, how deliciously smooth plain stockinette is, and how springy and light this hoodie will be when I’m done. Feeling the love.

{Random 4}

Turning my thoughts to socks: there’s a lot of sexy sock patterns out there, and I’m not knitting enough of them. I suspect this is part of my recent “I don’t own any handknit garmets! Holy CRAP how did that happen?!” moment, because the fact is I am wearing through my cheap socks at a rate of knots, and I would like some woolly goodies for cold toesies.

{Random 5}

I am craving sushi like there is no manana. Unfortunately, in order to obtain said sushi, I have to either (a) go into Woden plaza, which is a personal purgatory; or (b) walk to the shops in my lunchbreak. That’s been out of the question this week (see Random 1) and so my life is still, tragically, sushi-less. Sometimes life is so, so hard.

{Random 6}

Today is the first day since I got sick that I’ll be doing this:

And I’m a bit nervous. I haven’t touched her for nearly 9 weeks, and I’m feeling her reproachful glances.