Sunday, September 10, 2006


Somebody please do an intervention

I've been reeeally bad this past week. No, seriously. I've bought so much craft crap in the space of a week that I'm scaring myself.

What? Of course I'm gonna show ya. Then you can judge for yourself if Chickenlips is out of control:

And these are just the books. I usually buy two hardcover knitting books per year. These were purchased about 3 days apart.

I love the honesty and positive voice within the covers of Big Girl Knits. Although I haven't yet picked out a project, it's given me ideas for using some of the formidable stash I've amassed (other than giving it away as contest prizes!) and the patterns are real, meaning that they get quite detailed with shaping calculation. And that's a good thing. Case in point: my yet-to-be-used Christmas gift from last year, 16 skeins of Lavold Angora in Robin Red. I'd also bought a Lavold pattern collection book, and have been dithering for months on end about which sweater to make myself. However, only the men's go up to a 50" chest...sigh. Like the Japanese considering the possibility of allowing a woman to accede to the throne, before the royal baby boy was born this past week, I considered knitting myself a man's sweater. Only now (sound Hallelujah Chorus) I don't have to!

Wasn't that neat how I worked a current world event into this post?

Book 2: the solution to my sweater-to-go-with-the-little-skirt issue. The knits are cute but not babyish, and work up super-fast. I'm doing a simple raglan pullover with a double strand of Encore, which has made a sizable dent in the 10-ball bag I purchased last winter. Should be done within a day or two, then I'll whip up some knit flowers to tack on, and I might just have something.

OK, now on to the yarn.

My boss is a knitter. Mostly she's been making the Ann Norling little fruit hats for her friends' children, but she's graduated to the FT felt clogs. She got stuck and I, being her guru, helped her through a tricky part. But in the process, I got nostalgic about felting, so...

My camera does horrible things to color. It's actually "Clematis," a non-plummy purple.

Did Chickenlips stop there? Hell, no! "Destashing," what's that?!

Pie-in-the-sky knitter, that's what I must be. This was calling to me from the shelf of my LYS, convincing me that I could knit a pair of hiking socks for the mister by Christmas.

Yeah, that's it.

Damn camera. The yarn is a melange (that word always sounded vaguely kinky to me) of green, brown & gray. In natural light, it is 100% purple-free.

Craft Crap Other than Yarn, or There's A First Time for Everything

Now we're getting into a gray area. First, yesterday's visit to a little slice of heaven right here on earth, the Latimer Quilt and Textile Center. I'm of the mind that one can never have enough hot pads, hence these handmade beauties:

Because this post will be extremely memory-sucking, I won't bother to upload the pic of the backs of these exquisite gems: they are merely the same fabric as the outer part. I think my MIL might like these, if I can bring myself to part with them.

And one more hare-brained scheme:

Many thanks to Super Eggplant for her "Tote Bags 101" tutorial. It buoyed my confidence to the point where I actually believed I could make one. Haven't started yet, obviously, but I did have a good time picking out the fabric--a quilting cotton from Craft Warehouse--and a piece of remnant rayon the color of French chocolate silk pie (!) for the lining, from Josephine's.

Now if I could just get S.E. to sew the dang thing for me.

Wish I could say I ended my shopping spree here, but there is still more. However, that'll have to wait. It's almost midnight, and I've spent (read: pissed away) my evening reading blogs, photographing all you see here, and blogging. I've still got one last sleeve to make, dammit!

Gawd knows I love those comments, but I already know without anybody having to tell me that when they throw the net over me, I'll be raving about what needle size I would have used to get that gauge, and so forth. The syringe full of moose tranquilizer will take effect, and I'll....trail off...

Golly, how I wish I could sew. Since I am terminally sewing impaired I'll just have to buy more yarn. (Compared to me, my dear, you are a piker, stashwise and bookwise. My local bookstore's inventory of knitting titles is maybe 1/3 of mine, not even counting the out-of-print ones.)
Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Subscribe to Posts [Atom]