Freakin' pattern idiots

There's a good reason I never use knitting patterns, and why I have yet to successfully knit a sweater for myself. Because most knitting patterns SUCK! I'm sorry, but if you're using a pattern published in Knitter's Magazine, the highest rated knitting mag in the US, it should not have so many errors that even an experienced knitter (with the full backing of the Ravelry community) can't follow it. Huge glaring errors, like telling you to start a design element at one spot, then several inches later (hours of knitting time) realizing there is no way that's correct. Yep, look at the photo right next to the pattern text and there is NO WAY AT ALL it is correct as written. Ravelers agree, and one even wrote the magazine for a list of errata without success.

So now I'm torn. I really really like this sweater and want to make and wear it. I have the perfect handspun yarn for it, and except for the chunks of errors it is relatively easy to knit. BUT, I'm already pissed and I'm only 1/3 through the front left piece, and the Ravelers warned the back is where all the frustrating problems are. I can keep working through it, hoping to avoid most errors by carefully reading, and tearing out hours of work when I do find yet another pattern mistake that's not visible immediately. Does not sound like fun. But it took me forever to find this pattern and I haven't seen any others that were as attractive to me. I'm pretty sure I definitely want something asymmetric or angled. Preferably a cardigan. My yarn is sport weight (size 3 needles) and fairly dark - so complex cables or such would be lost. Le sigh. I will frog this current craptastrophe back to the last correct row, then try again altering the pattern to match the photo. If I hit another major error after this one in the next couple days I probably will say something unladylike and find a new sweater to knit. Wish me luck.

Nature + Knitting = Inspiring blog

I've been following KnittingIris's blog for a while now. I wish I knew her in person, or at least could spend time in the same places she's always posting pics of. She does the coolest most inspiring thing - she takes a gorgeous photo of nature and then miraculously knits a pair of socks that perfectly reflect the colors of the photo. Her latest set was a photo of an old graying barn set against the mountains in a field of dried grass - and striped socks that pull all those elements together, even the blackness of the barn door opening. Looking at the 2 side by side, it really elevates knitting into the realm of art. Plus she has all sorts of cool nature crafts, like dried autumn leaves dipped in beeswax and hung in a window, or chestnut critters. So, if you're a knitter who likes nature (and I know a couple of you are) I hereby recommend her blog.

Slam books

Remember Slam Books? In my middle school they were always those marble composition notebooks, always anonymous, relatively benign questions that got passed around and everyone wrote their answers. Reading friends' blogs and some of the question memes they post makes me want to create a slam book of old. Seems like it'd be a fun idea, but then again I'm the sort of person who still thinks old-fashioned girly sleepover parties are great, and I'm kind of in the minority on that. Some interesting recent questions that would be neat to hear answers to --

Name a place that you've never been, yet feel inexplicably homesick for.
If you could have one vice without any negative repercussions, what would it be?
Name something you've never really liked to eat.
If you had to gain 10 lbs. what would you eat to do it?
How would you most enjoy spending $20?

Interesting. Definitely.

Puppy love

Last night we played with a baby boxer puppy who was available for adoption. We called him Fred, and he may be the best temperment puppy I've ever handled. He was boisterous and hopping around playing, living up to the name boxer batting at D's hands. I flipped him on his back and he just lay there, didn't squirm to right himself at all. When I picked him up and held him at arms length he again calmly accepted it. Not like Windy, who hates to even be pushed onto her side. We played with his pudgy cheeks, oh boxers are so adorably meat-headed, you just want to grab their pudge and kiss them. He was really really cute. This isn't him, but gives an idea of their cheeky pudginess and rumply forehead -- look at that chin, oh my goodness (ok I'm talking in baby talk at this point, glad you can't hear it).
Anway, after playing with him at talking a bit about it, we decided to leave -- without Fred. And now I'm so glad we didn't get a puppy. It's so nice to sleep through the night, and trust the dogs off lead, and not walk around every day trying to see what got chewed up when you weren't looking, and carpet cleaning during house breaking, and all that. I've been getting that feeling lately like I'd like another puppy, and I was surprised that when confronted with one I really liked, I easily decided against it right now. Besides, I really don't think Katie would like it.

What more can I say?

Small towns are teh coolz

Living in a small town really has its advantages. This afternoon I was at a birthday party for a friend, and after listening to her grandkids perform a breathtaking strings & piano concert (Bach, Chopin, etc) I was looking around to see if I knew anyone. I was thrilled to unexpectedly spot a friend I used to dance with but haven't seen in almost 2 years. We had a great time catching up,
sharing what's changed and our future plans. Also admiring the new tattoos we've each gotten since we last saw each other. It was uplifting to hear her plans and goals for the future, the kind of things that just make you smile with happiness for the other person. All around today has been yet another great B'burg Saturday. The only downsides were that it was too hot (69°) to be wearing jeans out with the dogs, and Katie deciding to douse herself with "eau de poop" cologne on our trek. Ah well, at least they'll be clean after their baths. Yeah, that's a silver lining to justify a half hour bent over the bathtub scrubbing beasts. Guess I better get crackin'

Damn those binges

Remember a while back I posted a line that was something like: Any story that starts with "so I was binge eating pickled beets" can't have a good ending?

Yep, it happened again. Thank goodness they were store bought and not my home-canned ones. The homemade ones are so dark red they remind me of deoxygenated blood. I may have a chance of cleaning this mess up. Not sure how, but I got it on my back too. And in my hair.