Yikes!

How did that happen?  A month without a post?  It wasn’t intentional.  January whizzed by in a swirl of meetings, work insanity, un-decorating, volunteer commitments and more.  Happily, there was a fair amount of knitting, in part because of an injury that has kept me somewhat immobile.  (Yeah, I know you find that hard to believe.  It’s all relative.  But closing in on 7 weeks now … I have had enough!)  No FOs to show off.  But you’ve been waiting to hear from me so long, I may as well show you what I’ve been up to.

Birte – Lamb’s Ear

I’m just short of the finish line on this absolutely wonderful, textural (and reversible) cowl in Spirit Trail Fiberworks Birte.  Only a slightly complex bit of gymnastics ~ hands and brain must perform together ~ is preventing me from calling the Winding River Cowl done.  As written, the pattern has a thoroughly clumsy three-needle bind-off.  That’s just silly on an otherwise reversible piece of knitting.  I have set it up to kitchener it, but in K2P2 rib, there is the need to idiot-proof before I actually sit down to do it or mayhem will ensue.  The weather is right for it, now to find the RAM.

I absolutely love my Hawthorne from STF Lyra.  I wanted to do something fun with the skein I have from the club in the colorway I got to name (Santorini).  Lyra just cries out to be cuddled, so Rose Beck’s Cocoon Me called.  The texture is nice and

Cocoon Me in Lyra – please!

scrunchy and I know it is going to be toasty.  I put this on smaller needles than I would have liked, because in my experience, Lyra tends to relax quite a bit when it meets water, and I do not want to lose the “bubbles” entirely.  The pattern gives you a crescent shawl, infinity loop or standard cowl.  This is the former, just a couple of rows shy of bind-off (and a little over-exposed).  I worked some extra repeats to use every yard possible ~ details to follow.

Gemma shawl, the first mile

Then there is this hubba-hubba number.  My office-mate commissioned it, so I couldn’t exactly say no.  The pattern is Gemma from Quince & Co.  The pattern pictures made it look awfully stiff and perhaps too tightly knit.  I went a different direction with Cascade Heritage Silk to give it a bit of drape, and a larger needle for a slightly looser gauge than written.  It will be made bigger than written, too.  Right now, it suits the need for totally mindless knitting ~ no pattern necessary.

With all of these near completion and a trip on the near horizon, I have the most wicked, itchy start-itis EVER.  I am showing great discipline in taking two small projects with me.  I know what they are.  I know I will not finish them.  I know I will get very little knitted on them at all.  But I still find  myself endlessly surfing around Ravelry looking for more patterns to go with the yarn shop upstairs!  Sheesh.

Queue ‘em up!

*Yes, there is something wrong with my header. It should be nutmeg.  Some days it is.  WordPress has been asked for help.  Sigh.

Reset

Man proposes, God disposes.

So fitting an epigram for 2012.  I thought 2011 was a roller-coaster ~ I had no idea what 2012 had in store.  I always love the ritual of hanging a new calendar; never more so than to start 2013.  But part of that ritual is taking stock of the months before.  I always learn something about myself, usually unexpected.

For example, I just couldn’t relate to my fellow knitters when they talked about “losing their knitting mojo” until it happened to me after Owl Manor went up in flames.  For weeks, I just could not take up needles without wrecking what I touched.  Every bit of inner stillness and rhythm had evaporated.  It took good advice and some special yarn to get me kick-started, and I hope to never, ever experience it again.

The last months of the year were full of overwhelming sadness, too, as a good friend unexpectedly faced life-altering illness; a co-worker died suddenly after being hit by a car (doubling my workload on top of the emotional toll); then the events at Sandy Hook that still hold us in their grip.  These, too, are balanced against the onrush of joyful moments that come spending the holidays with a small child.

It all serves to make me more grateful every day for those I love, and the minutes I have to be with them and to do things for them.

Yarn used in 2012:  4511 yards, or .85 miles …  significantly less than most years.

Finished Objects: 15 ~ 4 shawls, 4 hats, 2 pairs of mitts, 1.5 pairs of mittens, 1 cowl, 1 scarf, 1 pair of socks

One-skein projects: 11

Fibers used for the first time this year:  Polwarth (wool) blended

Spirit Trail Brigantia in a special over-dyed colorway

with silk in Spirit Trail Fiberworks Brigantia.  It is lovely.  It has a hand very much like my beloved BFL and I could knit with it for days without tiring of it.  No wonder spinners hoard all the fiber.

WIPs/UFOs remaining:  shudder  The same ones as last year, plus a couple more.  Oops.

Projects waiting to be blocked: at least 5

Projects never cataloged on ravelry but worked on: at least 3

Interesting people met in 2012:  Sivia Harding, Amy Herzog, Mary Scott Huff

Things I wanted to do in 2012 – Progress:

• Play with beads:  Check!  2 beaded shawls and one set of beaded mitts completed.  Another shawl on the needles.  Too many beads purchased and ready to use.  (Oops.)
• Attack old WIPs:  Nope.  Not even close.  And now they are locked up in storage.
• Woodruff Mittens and Bristol’s Cowl:  Both would be good quick projects to put OTN sooner rather than later.

Ideas for 2013:

• Colorwork mittens:  Yes, you read that right.  I want to make some colorwork mittens for myself,  I have the yarn and pattern ready to go.  I thought I would do them during the
  

  Enough “pop” for colorwork?

  Summer-Games-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named but things went all sideways right about then.  I had fun working up one for STF and want to do it again.  Really.  You just wait.

But I am going to leave the goals list off right there.  There are a good many changes in the works this year, starting with the demolition of our behemoth pile of charred timber and the reconstruction of Owl Manor.  That will beget other changes.  It promises to be an interesting journey, and I will not weigh myself down with the baggage of expectations before I set foot out the door.

Not when what we have right now is a shiny new year, still unspoiled.

Unimaginable

 

To the many of you who have asked and wondered of our welfare in the wake of the Newtown massacre, we are fine. In a state so small, there are far fewer than six degrees of separation between us and too many victims.

Suffice it to say I hugged Darling Bebe fiercely tonight and did not want to let go. Ever.

We weep. We will live with Sandy Hook, forever changed because of it. I cannot imagine the raw pain of being one of twenty mothers who packed a lunch, zipped a coat and tousled a head before school, not knowing it would be the last time.

I pray for every one of those moms and dads, sisters, brothers, grandmas, grandpas, aunts and uncles. May they find strength somehow, somewhere.

Updated:  It was only a matter of time.  One of the murdered teachers is the daughter of a friend.  Every few hours, new details emerge that make the horror worse.  When the chief medical examiner, a man I’ve known and respected for years, uncharacteristically steps in front of a bank of microphones and says it’s the worst he’s ever seen, that’s all I need to know.

Mittens!

Happy Friday from your long-absent Owl.  Unhappy circumstances have conspired to keep me away.

On this otherwise dreary day, time to issue yet another “Merci!” to Goldybear, who delighted Darling Bebe with mittens in the perfect color and size.  Heaven knows her online aunties have been pining for a glimpse of her …

Little Miss Mittens

May your weekend be merry and bright!

Embraced

In the afterglow of the Knitter’s Review Retreat, I sometimes find it difficult to write; never more so than this year.  I’ve said that this four-day respite is my Christmas.  To stretch the metaphor farther, this time I felt mostly like George Bailey, simply overwhelmed by the tidal wave of kindness that swept me through the weekend.  It seemed every time I was alone for a moment, another friend sat down beside me with a thoughtful memento or hug to say that Nutmeg Owl would never really be flying alone.

The shawl-clad snowy owl – he hoots, for real!

From stitch markers to fancy soaps; handmade bags to mittens for Darling Bebe, you showered me until I was nearly speechless and certainly misty-eyed.  It’s no wonder that wherever this group convenes, when it is together, I am home.

Whoooo needs hexi-puffs?

And, for the record, the trendy “hexi-puffs” have NOTHING on these little guys ~ who are part of a complete ju-ju kit for Owl Manor.  (It would have taken me longer to sew on the eyes than to knit them ALL.)

But on to the weekend …

Ann Budd and a magic formula

The teaching draw featured the best battery of instructors we have every had in tandem at KRR:  Ann Budd, who always has a trick to share; Sivia Harding, patroness of lace and beading; Amy Herzog, who helped every person there see the value of the right cut for the right body, and Mary Scott Huff, who left us

Sivia Harding demystifies lace design

laughing so hard we gasped for air and wiped away tears (and I was incapable of taking a single picture without shaking violently).  Whichever teachers you had, you wished you’d had them all.  And every one was generous with her time in and out of the classroom.  This is not a gathering where teachers hide out at special tables away from the plebes.  We are all knitters; we mix and mingle throughout the weekend.

It seemed that the 361 days since we were last together have brought sad times for so many ~ the loss of mothers, spouses and

How many knitters does it take … ?

other close family members.  Perhaps that is what made for the most cohesive gathering anyone can remember.  Time crept rather than sped as we reconnected, updated and helped each other through entanglement.

And helped each other treat ourselves to a bit (or more) of fiber luxury at our

All the pretties …

on-site marketplace with Spirit Trail Fiberworks, Briar Rose, String Theory and newcomers Three Bags Full and longtime Retreat-goer turned vendor PeaceLoveYarn.  The line in the hallway outside looked a lot like Black Friday at midnight ~ or whatever they are now going to call it since the holiday season must now start the day after Halloween, but I digress.

2012 swag bag

I have not even mentioned the swag bag for 2012, including one of the sweetest of children’s books, Extra Yarn, the very useful color grid (that I will use at Owl Manor more than for knitting) and yarn, stitch markers and more.  I do use my KRR coffee mugs judiciously, when I want a special reminder of being with people I love who share something special.

Somehow, in the midst of her constant personal reinvention and multiple projects, Clara Parkes manages to put the right people together, sprinkle yarn-fairy dust and make magic.  Never more so than in 2012.  I am endlessly grateful that she and the others who help behind the scenes do so, and allow me to be a guest at the party.

I am strengthened and humbled and ready to face the next chapter, whatever it might bring.

Spared

Unlike our friends on the shoreline, or in New York and New Jersey, chez Owl was spared any drama from Hurricane Sandy.

Sandy’s touch in our part of the world

That’s not to say that winds that howled like freight trains speeding by did not do damage to our part of the world.  Our neighborhood had a blown power transformer and some trees down.  But last year’s Snowpacalypse combined with very aggressive tree-cutting in the interim meant periodic power cycling off, then (mercifully) on again was all that we experienced.

As for Owl Manor, there is more water, but it is a drop in the pun-intended bucket.

We continue to wait for word from many friends who have not checked in, and offer our prayers for their safety.  We know too well the toll that disruption, dismay and damage take as the days pass.

Waiting

We are waiting here for the storm on the anniversary of the Snowpacalypse.  We are well-prepared chez Owl, but Owl Manor is another story.

Be prepared and be safe, my friends.

 

Rhinebeck YarnoraMama!

It has been far too long since Luann and I have celebrated a YarnoraMama.  Life, work, kids, you name it:  It all gets in the way.  So when the opportunity arose to take her to her first Rhinebeck, it seemed like the right time to see if the cosmic forces would align to allow YarnoraMama IV to happen.

They did.

Dutchess County Fairgrounds – aka “Rhinebeck”

So I could allow her to experience this.  This captures what’s in my mind when I think of Rhinebeck.  I’ve been there in pouring rain, wicked wind and bright sun ~ sometimes several of those in one day.  But this is the quintessential fall-in-New-England event and it should look just like this.

A Teeswater poses prettily

One cannot justify driving 100 miles to a sheep and wool festival without properly admiring the sheep, of course.  The young people, most involved in 4-H, work very hard to raise and show these animals when their friends are off doing teen

Everything you need to know … well, not quite

and ‘tween things.  They know more about these sheep than I ever will.  We owe it to them to start with a visit to the Breed barn to see their ribbons and displays.  After all, without them, there is no knitting.  And fact of the matter, if you were to break down my yarn purchases of the past three years, an astounding percentage come from small farms raising special breeds as I have joined others exploring what makes each special on the needles in the Knitters Book of Wool woolalong inspired by our fearless leader, Clara Parkes.

A Soay sheep from Ashford, CT

I suppose in some respects it’s not fair to take a first-timer on a guided tour of this mother-of-all-sheep-festivals (a superlative shared with Maryland Sheep and Wool, of course.  I’ll let the experts fight over the true winner there.).  There is something to be said for arriving and being immediately lost in a sea of jostling knitters with pointy elbows, all searching for that perfect skein.  Maybe it’s not fair to have removed the “overwhelm” from the equation.

Eight warm legs and eight socks displayed. Where’s Miss Muffet?

However, there is certainly much to be said for attending Rhinebeck on Sunday.  The crowds are significantly smaller, and it is a far more pleasant experience.  Fewer people dragging rolling suitcases indiscriminately over toes and strollers jamming up the aisles.  (I, for one, would never have brought Darling Bebe.  Nope.)  To be sure, there was still

Of course there were owls!

enough to look at to go into sensory overload.  From potters and button-makers to the incomparable Shepherd’s Flock slippers to LYS bringing their wares on the road and independent dyers like Spirit Trail Fiberworks, where we found our peeps with Jennifer’s

Gratuitous (lousy) shot of Mountain Ash shawl knitted for the booth last spring

gorgeous wares.

This was akin to having dessert before dinner, for we will all be together at the Knitter’s Review Retreat in a mere three weeks.  The friends who have showered me with virtual hugs over the past few months were generous with the real thing in person.  I have missed them so.

I would be remiss if I did not tell you about one “find” from one of

Cashmere Crepe by Still River Mill

my favorite luxury yarn sources.  I have written before about Still River Mill, which spins for many area farms and also produces small batches of its own fibers.  Meet Cashmere Crepe:  Fair-trade cashmere.  Cashmere Crepe is the result of a program by USAID to help develop the economy of Afghanistan.  As such, this NGO trained more than 200,000 goat herders on the value of cashmere from their flocks,

Cashmere Crepe – 120 yards, fingering wt, 100% cashmere

and how to properly harvest the fiber.  The result is this fingering-weight 100% cashmere in 25g skeins, with 120 yards.  It sells retail for $18.  That’s a little more expensive than the other cashmere SRM offers, but considering the goal of the project and the distance it traveled to get to here, it’s not an inordinately large price tag to make a pair of fingerless mitts or a sweet cowl from a single skein.   Cashmere Crepe is not on the SRM website yet ~ look for it at their booth at the Fiber Festival of New England (a terrific indoor event!) or drop them a line at sales@stillrivermill.com and tell them I sent you.

At Rhinebeck, I reach a point of fiber saturation.  There is a moment where I can’t look at or appreciate another thing.  It’s the place Luann and I reach at the same time.

In all, Luann and I spent four glorious hours in the car together (how often do you say that about four hours in the car going anywhere?).  I took her to Owl Manor so she could see the world’s largest blue tarp ~ and bear witness that I am not having a bad dream that won’t let me wake up.  We saw gorgeous rolling countryside, glorious autumn foliage and bucolic Connecticut villages.  We caught up with the things that a couple of busy moms with “balance issues” need to do.

The only downside: facing work on Monday.

Countdown to the Knitter’s Review Retreat has begun!

* Apologies for lousy photography.  Leaving the plastic over the new iPhone camera lens and flash didn’t really help.

Ravaged

I hardly know where to begin.  In retrospect, the title of my last post was oddly prescient.  I just didn”t know it then.  I cannot bear to look at its contents now.

If you live near here, you already saw the news coverage ~ it was on every station.  You pretty much couldn’t escape it.  (I used to be one of those news reporters camped out near the carnage.  I got out of that business for many reasons.  But I digress.)

The facts are rather straightforward: A bolt of lightning hit Owl Manor Sunday night while we were out-of-town picking up Darling Bebe.  On our arrival home, we had a waiting voicemail from a neighbor and Mr. Owl went to check it out.  He smelled something electrical inside on one end of the house … and then on the back stairs, smelled smoke.  The valiant professionals from our fire department were there within minutes, but fireballs were shooting out of the roof and windows by that point.  The fire had been burning in the attic and walls for hours and it was only through luck and timing that Mr. Owl was there to find and report it.

I was at home putting DB to bed.  Unable to leave the house, I watched the lead story on the late news, seeing flames in the graceful arched window that overlooked the park as my 98-year-old dream home burned.  And burned.

On the 2nd floor, daylight instead of a 3rd floor

Anyone who tells you things will look better by daylight is lying.  This is the door between Darling Bebe’s 2nd-floor bedroom and adjoining bath.  There should be a 3rd floor above. Not trees and sky.

I could only follow the fire marshal so far.  It hurt too much to look and I couldn’t see through the tears anyway.

The interior has been ruled a total loss.  Most of the details you saw previously are gone.

Yes, there are many ways we are blessed and fortunate: neither firefighter nor civilian was injured; we

A souvenir swatch from the grand foyer

have not sold our home; we had no possessions there; it was insured and can be rebuilt.  Wise Bullwinkle and Luann are right that perhaps the fire smote out the sadness and cleansed it of any remaining bad karma (not to mention dog smells).

All these things are true, but in all honesty, I am just not there yet.

I’m not anywhere:  I cannot process this.

It is grief, to be sure.  I spent more than a year of my life waiting and planning to be the next caretaker of this special historic property and within 72 hours of actually owning it ~ without ever spending a night under its roof ~ it was gone.

Project

It has taken more than 15 months* to obtain this.

Key to the future

Now, the transaction is completed.  Owl Manor belongs to us.

It needs love and care, but these are some of the reasons why it was worth the wait to purchase ~ and the wait to come through many renovations.

The center medallion

The whole chandelier. Thousands of crystals in need of a bath.

Fireplaces with original mantels. Lots of ‘em.

Coffered ceilings, too

Some original leaded-glass windows c. 1914

French doors. More French doors. Then more still.

Original phones built into the walls

Some original sconces.

Miles of bannisters.

Balconies for outdoor living

Views of the park

And a gargoyle in the closet?

Really, we did find this fella in a closet after closing.   And some other less pleasant things.  But in a few months, the vestiges of all that will be gone.  NutmegOwl, Mr. Owl and Darling Bebe will move into our new home.

A bit bigger than my usual WIP, to be sure.

* The only thing “short” about a “short sale” is your patience by the time it’s over.