Child's Play (#2)

We've been reading a few monster related stories lately. Monster Day at Work (love the illustrations and the last page in particular), Leonardo the Terrible Monster (which really does show that if you're terrible at doing something you may yet find something else you can be wonderful at), and of course, Where the Wild Things Are. The fact that I managed to bawl my eyes out watching the movie the other week hasn't lessened my love for this book, and our own little wild thing seems to love it so too. He is also presently obsessed with dressing up, and making up wild and imaginative tales to go along with his outfits, so some monster claws were needed.

It was just what I needed to encourage me reacquaint myself with my sewing machine. We rummaged through the scraps box and came up with some grey fleece and some spotted cotton. To make them I traced around his mittens as the base pattern (although it would have been a good idea to pay attention to the direction of the stretch when I cut them out), and fused two scraps of cotton together with some heavy weight Heat'n'Bond, and cut it into triangles to make the claws. They're simply sewn into the side seam. Seriously quick project and we now have a very satisfied Monster in residence. (When he's not being a Viking. Or a Mountain climber. Or a fairy queen. You get the general idea...)

After that little exercise the sewing machine is now off for a service (need to get it done before the next craft weekend) and I'm keeping an eye out for other simple dress up box ideas, like Pinry's Knight's outfit, or Melissa's beautiful wings in Small.

*edited to add the wings link which I must have accidentally deleted. 

Child's Play (#1)

A couple of months ago (or so, I think) I started knitting C a vest. His Pembroke vest from last winter was much too small (a stretch around his girth, and too short too). Hopefully this one is roomy enough we'll get a bit more wear out of it.

I used yarn at hand, leftovers of Jo Sharp Silkroad Aran Tweed (colour Bark) from the Cobblestone that I finished (and am still yet to photograph and blog about) for Scott the week (or thereabouts) before.

I looked at toddler vests on Ravelry, but decided to make up my own pattern- a modified version of the Baby Kaftan pattern by Debbie Bliss. I knitted this for C when he was smaller, and loved the pattern (although not the embroidery)- the keyhole neck, and the simplicity that lent it to an almost seamless (when sleeveless) garment, and the narrow garter edging. I did consider another Pembroke (I do love that pattern still) but I thought the tweedy nature of the yarn wouldn't show off the effort in the cables. And somehow re-calculating a plain pattern to different yarn and larger size seemed more mindless than dealing with cables.

It took me longer than it should have to knit. I blame that on the vagaries of pregnancy, which seems to have sapped nearly all of my creative urges. C seemed very keen to get it finished, and spent a good five minutes "knitting" on the sofa (while I was being slack).

It's already been pressed into service, without blocking. The bottom hem keeps on rolling up but I made it a little bit extra long, so that's not a problem (the blocking can wait until it needs it's first wash). 

Between tissues

I'm spending my fourth day at home nursing a head cold. The annoying thing about head colds when you're pregnant is that you just have to grin and bear it. None of the pill assisted soldiering on that I usually undertake. Instead, plenty of Vitamin C, salt gargles and nose spray, and paracetamol to ease the pain. A mini movie marathon (a mix of historical fashions, fantasy, girlie eye candy and general chick flick fodder) and lots of extracurricular naps have been accompanied by the sound of knitting being frogged in preparation for re-construction, and some cotton dishcloths being knitted because I can't get my brain around the re-construction options. Today I'm intending to extend myself by trying to complete some work from home. This is usually a no-go-zone for me, but the deadline is tomorrow, and it just has to get done. At least this way I don't have to deal with the commute and the cold air and the need to talk with people (other than my doctor). And if I feel the urge to nap in the middle of it I can.

The frogging: A striped cardigan I finished knitting in 2004 and have only worn a handful of times. As much as I love the colours, I just don't feel comfortable wearing such vibrant clothes. When I was pregnant with C I had decided I should frog it (or most of it at least) and turn it into a baby blanket. That was as far as the project got at the time, but now that I'm pregnant again, and time has further eased the memory of the work involved in the original garment, and I'm in need of something mindless to do, frogging it seemed like a fun thing to get on with. At least I feel like I've been able to make a step forward on something in the last few days.

Sprechen Sie Deutsch?

I don't.
Speak German, that is, for those of you who don't either.
But that doesn't mean I didn't thoroughly enjoy reading through the wonderful new German mag/zine that Dolores has created: Kleinformat

OK, so maybe I didn't get that much from the articles, but I did delight in the inspiration, creative ideas and eye candy that she has pulled together in the first edition (one assumes that it will be a success and be followed by many more) of Kleinformat.

It's all about kids, play, making and creating. In some ways it reminds me a bit of some on-line kids mags- Small and LMNOP -with plenty of things it would be nice to buy, fun and playful fashion spreads, and full of colour and wonderful images. The added bonuses of this being a hard copy mag include a sticker laden cover and cute printed paper pull-outs with origami instructions.

I was lucky enough to receive a free copy on account of being a contributor- although Dolores and her team were responsible for the translation work to provide German instructions for Cee's Tee Pee pattern.

If you'd like your own you can buy Kleinformat here. Or if you'd like Cee's Tee Pee pattern in English, you can download it via the link on the left in the sidebar (under Do It Yourself).

red skew

The process of sitting down to try to write a blog post makes me realise just how out of blogging I have been lately. Not much blog reading. Next to no blog writing. A bit of thinking about- mostly to do with whether I'm ever going to find time to catch up with the backlog of blog worthy things I have to show and tell. One step at a time I suppose.

Earlier this week I managed to remember to take photos when there was both daylight and opportunity, and today I finally remembered to download them from the Camera. But my brain is all fog when it comes to concocting a wittily relevant title and interesting angle for the content. I suppose I could blame it on pregnancy hormones (thanks for all the congratulations by the way- it's lovely to be able to share the exciting things in life with a responsive, supportive audience), and the fact that I am newly addicted to MasterChef, although it does make me feel like a horrifyingly amateur cook. Certainly the mash I served up last night would have been sent back to the kitchen by Matt Preston. Although I think the crumbed lamb cutlets stuffed with pancetta and parmesan were quite spectacular and I would have been content to eat a few more of them. But I digress.

Last weekend I managed to finish my Skew socks. I knew I had to knit these as soon as I saw the pattern go up at Knitty. The construction had me intrigued, and after the Passaggio socks I was keen for a simpler, less detailed sock to knit. I also was fortunate to have been gifted the perfect yarn, a mottled red Handmaiden Casbah- a heavenly mix of fibres including a portion of cashmere (so soft) and nylon (so they will hopefully wear OK). As soon as the Passaggio's were cast off I cast on sock #1. A good chunk of sock #2 was knitted up in Queensland, which already seems like a long time ago.  Following the tips of other Skew knitters I checked out the fit mods on the designer's blog, and included the high instep alteration, which I have to say was a good idea- the result is a tight-ish fit to get on and off (although no worse than any other socks I've knitted) and a perfect fit when on (although I probably could have made the foot section a little bit shorter, which is a first time experience for me!).

I would say they are a fairly straightforward knit in terms of technique, but they do require you to keep track of rows and remember to do the increases and decreases at the right moment (I did have a couple of stuff-ups along the way, some of which I frogged, and some of which I left and compensated for somehow). The construction however is the amazing thing. It's truly as intriguing to knit as it is to look at. I couldn't see where it was headed as I worked my way through the strange sequences of increases and decreases, and even when I worked sock #2, which in the ankle area is a mirror of sock #1, I was entranced with a sense of wonder as the foot form materialised. As is my usual line of thinking when I'm looking at or making something that I find really interesting, I couldn't help but wonder how on earth the designer figured out the method and pattern. Where did this strange idea come from? How did she develop the pattern? Was there much trial and error? How did she know that it was going to work out in the end? Or perhaps she didn't- she just had to see where it might lead? I think she has written a blog post about it, but then I wonder if reading the story behind it will diminish it's mystique.

Regardless, I now have some deliciously soft and cosy socks to wear when I take over the sofa each evening to watch MasterChef. I wonder if someone will make a strawberry dessert that is this colour....