The Madness Marches On

For those who are following the BethQuilt, here are a couple of new photos to help keep you informed:

These blocks, partially assembled, keep me on the right track.
If I remind myself of what I've done, I won't repeat myself too often,
or stray into unwelcome territory.

Erica's quote block below:

My trusty Bernina in action (I just don't happen to be sitting there at the moment):

Keep those good thoughts coming! And for those who wonder how I've manged to get this far, all I can tell you is, "I have no freakin' idea. All I do is look at the stuff in front of me and hope that when I put my hand out, I'm making the right choice."

That, and keeping the seam ripper close at hand helps. A lot.

Not March Madness (yet)

Well, whadda ya know? I'd sworn off quilting, said I'd never do it again, gave away my quilting fabrics (to XenaPrincessWarrior), and set my sights on higher accomplishments.

Yeah, right. And pigs fly. Here are some photos of my latest trip to quilting madness as it reigns in the spare bedroom:


Above, a full-on view of the mess. Below, the right side of insanity.


How I spent my summer vacation...(cough, cough). Okay, seriously -- I dedicated the week of mid-winter break from my high-school library job (may it be forever blessed) to jump-starting the project I call the BethQuilt. This opus, begun with great enthusiasm in August of 2006, took a major detour into never-gonna-be-made territory by October: the inkjet fabric I'd bought for the photo transfers gave, shall we say, less than optimal results.

November saw me at the quilt store, clutching packets of EQ's Printed Treasures. December and I were not friends, as I fretted and fumed over this commitment. January passed with still more kvetching and worry. Nothing, it seemed, would budge the feeble attempts I'd made in the fall. And the thought of reprinting all those photos was sooooo depressing... ayah! as BigBrain would say (we don't know what it means, but we take it as a friendly and sympathetic exclamation).

February, I knew, would be the do or die month. Either it would be started in earnest this week or it never will be. So, after several days of putzing around on the computer with photos and fabric, and chasing a fourth star in the KnittersReview forums, I've gotten this far:

Above is the left of (I like to call it organized) insanity.
Below is a closeup of one of the blocks.

What made this fun at this particular point in time (aside from resigning from a national quilting organization's Board of Directors - yipee!)? Tossing out the carefully prepared graph I mocked up during the summer, and allowing myself to have fun. Plus, Country Quilter is having a 25% off sale through Sunday, and I'm intrigued by the pinkness of the world I'm living in just now....

The hat for Little Brain

Here's the hat promised for Little Brain, made from the leftover yarn from Big Brain's momentous request for a hat. Now, understanding that Little Brain doesn't need a hat, it's safe to bet that this is throwing twenty dollars worth of yarn into a pit. Not to mention the hours of toil and hope as we do and re-do the decreases to achieve the perfect bowl effect for the crown (much better than BigBrain's slightly peaky tip). For it is known to the community at large, that Little Brain is distinctly unable to keep his mitts on his own property, unless it is of immeasurable value to him. As in, perhaps, the new issue of Make magazine.

Oh dear. And to think that all this lovely yarn and effort will be wasted on an unworthy freshman English major, who will find it -- abandoned, unloved -- at Bartleby Library one chilly March afternoon. Even if he does play the sax. And is destined for greatness, wearing the toils of my fingers on his irregularly shaped bean. He also probably sports a baldy haircut.

No matter. I'll sit in the dark. At least I have the photos.

The dude needs a hat...

How often am I asked to knit something for Dearheart? Like, NEVER. My knit-for-the-dude-in-my-life history is rather mixed: one Fair Isle vest which only took three years (he called it the Great American Sweater) and one gorgeous cabled vest that I managed to ruin when removing a stain.

So, you can imagine my surprise and delight when he (offhandedly) said one evening, "You know, when you get to a break in your busy knitting schedule, I could use a hat."

My fingertips fluttered to my collar in ladylike amazement. "Do tell."

"Well, the thicket's getting kind of thin up there," (motioning to his beautifully shaped head which has, in truth, gone rather bald) "and my ears get cold."

After he hastened to assure me that he didn't want anything fancy, just your average basic hat, I began to ponder to importance of such a request. Just a hat, you say? Bah! This man asks for NOTHING -- he is a self-winding clock, deeply intellectual, insanely busy, often preoccupied, and yet generous in helping to keep the home fires burning. And he doesn't ask for things. Just a hat? No -- this is a momentous request!

I had intended, the day before Valentine's day, to visit a Tarrytown (NY) yarn shop for supplies for a big project (visit my Other Blog at: www.enchantedKAL.blogspot.com), and thought I'd find something for the Big Brain's noggin at the same time. But delay and dismay, a random car accident (I'm fine), and an impending snowstorm forced that plan to the side. On that other hand, Katonah Yarn was open late on Tuesdays, on my way home, and the snow hadn't started yet. Twenty minutes later and a lot poorer, I ran out the door with two skeins of Blue Sky Alpaca Worsted in my hot little hands (do those sheep get royalties for their wool? inquiring minds want to know).

You see the result of my efforts above. This included several days of knit..rip..knit..rip..knit.. temper tantrum..knit.. And Dearheart's comment, "I know you'll get there, somewhere between picky and perfect." The extra yarn will be enough for a matching cap for the Little Brain, young Big-Man-On-Campus at Binghamton University. Who will lose it before the winter is over, when it will be found, examined and worn by an undeserving (but very cold) freshman. An English major. Maybe he plays the sax. And the hat will become his trademark.

And who will someday be bald, hat long gone, and wishing for something basic and warm, like the hat he found in college so many years ago. Which must have been knitted by a very nice woman with lots of love for someone very special.