It's been longer than I really care to contemplate since I've written for the blog. However, I make good on my promises, so here is a picture, which might just let you know why it is I've been holding out on you all.
Ta-DA! Three finished objects and one in progress. The astute among you will notice that only one of these was on my list of ufos. However, the weather here has been a touch psychotic, bouncing between seventy and thirty degrees. And in these uncertain times, my knitterly soul reacts instinctively. I feel a compulsion to make warm, soft garments that can be worn by my loved ones. I almost can't help it, the need to make warm snuggly things is there. I think of it as being a response similar to the geese flying off or squirrels building stashes of nuts and local folks' flower bulbs. I'm preparing for the real cold.
In other news, Jim had a birthday. A big part of the third week of October was spent in cleaning and shopping and various other company-having related activities. We had the great good luck to go the the PA Renaissance Faire in the pouring rain that Saturday (the next day was cool and sunny and gorgeous. of course.) and have an adventure. The whole experience was pretty interesting, and I think perhaps I'd like to go back when giant umbrellas weren't falling over and we weren't completely soaked. Oh, yes. Through all of the massive amounts of shopping, I forgot birthday candles. We, um, improvised. Instead of twenty three plus one tiny candles, there are two, three, and one candles on the cake. I don't think this will earn me the title of domestic godesshood any time soon, but it worked.
Okay, time for some detail shots of my lovely pile of warm. The first scarf, here modelled by my lovely roommate Colleen, is intended for Mr. Jim's Dad come Christmas time. Mr. Jim's Dad, much like Jim, ,works in a shop and is frequently cold come winter. I chose a lovely autumnal palette of colors that will conveniently blend with rust, grease, oil, dirt, and anti-sieze. Also, being acrylic, it's washable. I feel as though I cheated here, I got back to my roots and crocheted this one. It went so quickly, and the fabric is so thick and cushiony. I just couldn't help myself. Really.
A one-row scarf knitted up in some of my first-ever stash-enhancement yarn, this is intended for one of my Jersey Girls. I'm still not sure who the color will suit best, but I'm sure it'll speak to me before Christmas sometime. Honestly, I haven't measured it. Originally, it came down to just past my knees when I draped it without wrapping. Once I washed it, it stretched to my ankles. Mohair blends get tall when you put them in water. Must remember that for the next scarf. (no, really! i learn. honest!)
And last, but never the least, the original random one-row scarf. I finished it off, and decided it needed some fringe. This lovely little bit of color will be gracing Mrs. Jim's Mom's neck come Christmastime. I wish I had a better detail shot of all of these for you guys, but frankly, my camera sucks lots when it comes to close-ups. The colors in this picture aren't as true, the camera seems to have picked up a lot of the blue and the green, but the expression on the lovely model's face is entirely priceless. I think she's either about to sneeze here, or making fun of Jim. These pictures are all taken in my kitchen, and cropped so that the dirty dishes aren't showing. Ah, the magic of photo-editing. So far as the Bureau for Adults Behaving Like Adults knows, there are no dirty dishes. Kate, if you rat me out, I will turn them on you next!
On a much sadder, and not at all related note, one of my favorite grade school teachers died this past week. It may seem a little melodramatic for me to mention it, but honestly, I'm not even ten years removed from eighth grade yet; and growing up in a small town makes it impossible not to keep up with these things. Mr. Stubbins taught me, my older sister, my younger sister, and a part of me hoped he'd teach my own children one day. History and social studies were always interesting and fun, and always my favorite class of the day. Mr. Stubbins was the teacher that most unfailingly encouraged me to write. He had faith in me, and in all his students, and there is a sad, cold hole in the community now. My condolences go out to his family, friends, and the Somerdale school district. Mr. Stubbins, you will be missed.