Monday, August 27, 2007

At Last My Love

Most knitting projects I crush on I can get over before the yarn insinuates itself into my stash. Rarely do I look at a project 6 months later and feel the same I-will-die-if-you-can't-be-mine, daily love note writing in my diary sort of feelings I had the first 3 or 4 weeks after I spotted it across some crowded and smoky magazine rack sitting all alone and being mysterious and beautiful. You know what I'm talking about. If you're not careful you start buying it presents of its yarn in the hopes of wooing it onto your needles and into your wardrobe. And God knows that if you've been drinking, you end up waking the next morning next to some cheap eyelash yarn and chenille scarf that you wouldn't be seen dead out in public with, and find yourself hiding it from your friends, and well, you know what I'm talking about there, too.

But Rosarie was different from the start. She was not merely a project that caught my eye; from the very beginning she completely took my breath away. Over 3 years ago when I was first learning about knitting and first looking at the internet for information and inspiration I found her and the first thing that went through my mind was that I would never be able to knit that. It was just too complex and beautiful, and I would never be worthy. Then, after a few projects were history, I could look at her and say with confidence that one day in the far future I would be able to knit like that. But over the years my love for this pattern has never flagged, never diminished even slightly, and I kept her picture close and often imagined the day I might cast her on.

Really, this is all Evilsciencechick's fault. We were sitting together with Claudia, Jen and Melissa at Knitch yesterday, generally cutting up and having fun and she mentioned she liked my Fair Isle Sampler Hat and wanted to make one, and one thing led to another and next thing we were cutting deals involving 14 colors of leftover shetland jumperweight and possible lendage of drop spindles and stuff and that got me thinking about that project and how much fun that was. That's when I decided to make yet another pilgrimage to the Virtual Yarns site, just for the hell of it. Sure enough, there she was in all her 2ply fair isle splendour (I like the extra u, lends class to the occasion, I feel), and I sat there and thought to myself "that's still freaking gorgeous. Yeah, I could sure knit that."

I paused for a moment to let that sink in.

Then I bought the kit.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Welcome to the Machine

What do you do when that madman Kaffe Fassett finally designs the most beautiful piece of knitting in the world? In 40bagillion colors, with color changes nearly every row and a 186 row color repeat? And, to cap it off, a mile wide, in boring, boringer, boringest stockinette?

It's a freaking scarf for petes sake. I am up to my ears in scarves and I do not need any more. But this is not merely about need. This is about desire. I do not, however, plan on spending the rest of my life knitting a boringest damned stockinette scarf no matter how much I love it. Anyway, as process a knitter as I am, I want this product, dammit, and I want it now!

Enter the Studio 360. My dirty little secret.

A match made in heaven, too I might add. I had no idea how the machine would like the doubled KSH, and half expected it to chew it up and spend the afternoon removing mohair from machine innards, but she works like a charm. And a few hours out of the afternoon got me nearly through one color repeat (not shabby, remember that's 186 rows with all the color changes). Instant gratification.