Archive for the ‘Cosmic Sitcom’ Category


January 1, 2014
Shiny and new

Shiny and new

I knew one thing heading into 2013: this would be a different year from any other.  That there would be nothing routine about it would prove to be an understatement.  To focus on rebuilding Owl Manor, I left my full-time job.  Just as I was getting into a routine, my freelance client needed a growing number of hours.  Simultaneously, as befits the cosmic sitcom that is my life, disaster befell us with the rebuild, requiring us to halt the project and start anew.

Somewhat surprisingly (to me at least), this time knitting did not fail me ~ if blogging about it did.  Looking back at my “output,” it’s clear that while my head was wrestling with knots, my hands stayed busy.

Projects completed in 2013:  13

What were they?  5 cowls, 4 shawls, 3 hats and a pair of fancy gloves

Yards of yarn used:  4,115, almost .8 miles

One-skein projects: 5

Projects never posted on ravelry but worked on: 3 (yes, I will get them up there)

Projects waiting to be blocked:  4 or more.  Sigh.

So many WIPs, so little time

So many WIPs, so little time

WIPs OTN:  Oooh, shudder.  Off the top of my head, 12.  I’m sure there are more.  Yikes.  But I pick up and put down what feels good to me.  That’s okay.

Goals I wanted to achieve in 2013:  Wisely, I didn’t really set a bar, per se.  There is a pair of colorwork mittens I would have loved to make, but I just didn’t get to them.  I did achieve something on my knitting “bucket list” though I failed to tell you about it yet.  (I’ll get to it, I promise.)  Because looking at the baker’s dozen projects I did complete, I note that only 3 stayed at my house.  The rest were either gifts, charity projects or samples.  The shoemaker’s barefoot children come to mind.  Which is why all four of the projects you see here are staying chez Owl, especially the ball of beautiful bulky Morehouse Merino, which will become a cowl for Darling Girl as soon as I unearth my graph paper.  Or just buy more …

The recent posts on Amy Herzog’s design blog put a word in my head that’s been ricocheting about for the past couple of days as I considered next year.  It talked about knitting intention.

My fingers are itching to knit more.  And there is one gaping hole in my knitting over the past yew years.  I haven’t knit a sweater for myself in quite awhile.  I had one I really liked on the needles but it got

Destined for frogging and a new project

Destined for frogging and a new project

so darned complicated to rejigger it for the gauge I got with the yarn I was using that I just got stuck.  It is going to the frog pond immediately so the sweater’s worth of Spirit Trail Fiberworks Sunna can be repurposed.

Now armed with my CustomFit measurements from taking Amy’s class at the Knitter’s Review Retreat, I will be swatching some Sunna and purchasing my CustomFit version of Afterlight.  No need to think.  Just knitting a pattern that is written for me.

That’s my knitting intention for 2014.  That and getting some woolies done for Darling Girl, because there are constantly growing fingers and ears to warm and there is no excuse for allowing Jack Frost to nip at those.

Thanks for hanging with me this long.  I will try to connect more in the months ahead.  My absences here are largely due to activity over at the other blog.  In the meantime, happy 2014!



March 16, 2012

The Morton Salt girl and I have a lot in common of late.  To wit, it pours.  I speak not of the weather.

But maybe ~ just maybe ~ the owl-hours spent typing, night after night, may be over for a bit.

And maybe the Yarn Goddess will stop laughing at my occasional attempts to knit for respite.

Too small for any but a 'tween

Case in point: This pretty little mitt. Little being the operative word.  See the needle shaft next to it?  That’s 5 inches long.   This mitt would fit a ten-year-old beautifully.  An adult, not so much.

How did this happen?  It went this way:  “The original pattern was knitted on a Size 9; the mitts call for a Size 8.  I knitted the lace of the original on a US 7, ergo my mitts should be on a Size 6.”  Right.  I might have spotted the fatal reality of this logic if these mitts were knitted from the cuff up.

But, noooooooooo.

Knitting Time Lost.  Dammit.

Okay – I cranked this out in about a day and half.  So let’s try it again on a US 8.

Nutmeg Owl knits about 7 rows.


Shades of Goldilocks already…

The mitt has now been cast on using a US 7.  This will be just right – or else.

The only saving grace:  at least this once I didn’t decide to knit the pair 2-at-a-time.


January 9, 2012

Given some uninterrupted knitting time, I do manage to whip WIPs into shape.  Often, they are allowed to sit because I know that when the knitting is finished, I’ll have to confront some other task that is going to hold up the works.  Like clearing off the guest bed to be able to block a shawl.  You get the idea.

Grove mittens

This pair of Grove mittens has been waiting ever so patiently for thumbs since … well, probably since last February.  That’s about the time I finished the first pair and experienced the extreme dye run-off from the otherwise utterly wonderful Sweet Grass 2-ply Targhee. The dye did crock on my fingers while I was knitting with it, so I expected the same thing, to happen when this pair got wet.  I consulted with Dye/Fiber Oracle Shelia January and textile maven Crazy Lanea in advance and thought I knew how to beat this batch.

Simmering, not felting

Thought” being the operative term.  I started with a simmer.  A nice long simmer in vinegary water to try to set the dye.  There was no apparent loss of color in the just-short-of-boiling water.

Digression:  Yes, this is 100% wool, and yes, it can and will felt (beautifully).  But not if temperature remains constant and agitation is kept at a minimum.  Don’t let anyone tell you that you can only wash wool in cold water.  It’s simply not true.

The run-off begins ...

I placed the mittens in same-temp water with Eucalan woolwash to rinse the vinegar – and saw instantaneous, massive color run-off.  Look at the color of the water.  Holy Synthrapol, Batman!  This time, I know what needs to come next.

As blue as the Aegean ...

It’s time for Synthrapol.  A nice still-pretty-darn-warm bubble bath.   If you work with yarns that are hand-dyed, or you like blue or red yarns that are hand-dyed, it’s a good thing to have on hand.  The water turned cobalt.

Let’s rinse them, and try it again.

How much dye ... ?

Somewhere the Yarn Goddess has her head thrown back and is having belly-laughs at my expense.   Come on, already!

This is insane!  How can there still be color left in the mittens???

I won’t torture you with more pictures of the same.  Suffice it to say that on the third wash, I left the mittens to sit a good while, removed them for a rinse, and then gave up.  I will not use 50 gallons of water to rinse a pair of mittens.  That’s just silly.

Look - it's only swimming-pool blue!

Time for one last dip in Eucalan to remove any remaining really-not-good-for-anyone chemicals.

Progress!  At last!

Suffice it to say that if my mittens should turn a snowman’s head blue, I shall live with it.  And if they turn my fingers blue, I’ll manage.  (The inside of my winter jacket is bright blue anyway.  I would even scoff at the Yarn Goddess if I did not know that retribution would be swift, painful and utterly out of proportion.)  The yarn, left by a generous knitter in the Stash Lounge at the KR Retreat in 2010 is wonderfully perfect for New England winter.

I do wonder what the green skein will do, though.


December 8, 2011

Okay, I’ve let the Knitter’s Review Retreat post hang up there long enough that some of you have wondered what happened to me.  To prevent unwarranted use of Bullwinkle’s search and rescue canines, it’s time to send up a flare.

Darling Bebe's Sleepin' Sock

Re-entry after the retreat is never that easy.  Mine was fraught with this knitting irony.   I knitted a pair of socks for Darling Bebe at last year’s retreat, figuring it a great exercise to use the 2-at-a-time toe-up method I had just learned from Melissa Morgan-Oakes.  Little did I know they would become the Most. Cherished. Knitted. Objects. Ever.

The child has worn them to bed every night except for when they were in the wash.

So much for toe-up

And then, it happened.  While I was gone, blissfully charging along on some lace in pure ignorance, the child blew through the toe.  More like, she rammed every little piggy through.

This requires more than just darning ~ and I doubt I’m up for

Sleepin' Socks II - Yarn Love Juliet

the task.  So all other knitting had to go on hold so that Mommy could solve a Sleepin’ Sock Emergency, again 2AAT but top-down.  And with purple yarn this time, according to Her Nibs’ wishes.  Somehow I knew there was a reason I should not destash the Yarn Love Juliet in “Blackberry Jam.”  May the nylon in this yarn, absent in the originals, help with durability.  Then again, the child’s feet did grow enormously.

Cuff-down command performance

All other knitting is in time-out, that is, except for this little project.  Yep.  Duty knitting, pure and simple.  Duty knitting on deadline no less.   And it’s another sock.  Obviously I dreamed up this pattern (loosely adapted from the Chubby Sock on the cover of the Interweave book Christmas Stockings) when I was a new knitter ~ and before I had an inkling that my sister would have four children who would need them.  Of course, sibling greased the skids last year by giving me Signature circs in all of the available sizes for Christmas ~ so I never had any real choice about executing this last one.

Acquaintances have a common misperception that I am organized.  My real friends know: my yarn is organized.  In fact, I am so utterly pathetic that one friend five states away had a note in her calendar in July to remind me to start the dreaded thing.  Back then, I had deadlines for Rhinebeck knitting …  sigh.

It is fair-isle AND intarsia.  Worked upside-down.

Will someone please stick pins in my eyes instead?

Will someone please teach me to hold my yarn properly for stranding?

At least when I am past the big intarsia motif, I can join it into the round and triple my speed.   At least it’s on worsted-weight yarn.  And then I can go back to Sleepin’ Socks and knitting anything at all I want, with no deadlines and no duty.

Just add Ethel

October 24, 2011

It should have all been so simple.

My dad’s birthday was last week. He and Mom were headed chez Owl for a visit. Since Darling Bebe’s favorite television is watching Giada De Laurentiis, I thought we would have a great time baking Grandpa a cake.

His favorite could not be any ordinary cake. Noooooo.

German chocolate. You know, an “involved” cake that calls for melting chocolate, separating eggs, beating whites and more.

It started off fine, the kitchen table covered with an array of ingredients and measuring implements.  I should have known something was amiss when the first three eggs dropped shells as I separated them.  Slippery little shards, too.  I explained patiently to the preschooler that Mommy did not do it perfectly so that’s why she had to try to get those shells out of the pool of egg whites.  By and large, the batter-making was without incident.

We buttered and cocoa’d the two nine-inch cake pans (neat trick for chocolate cakes suggested by KnittingKittens, of course).  That’s right.  TWO 9-inch pans.  That’s what the recipe called for, in spite of the traditional German chocolate being a three-layer cake.  Ooookay.  Looked like a lot of batter but …

… and into the oven they went.

And they began to rise.  And rise.

And bubble.

And rise.

And drip over the edges of the pans.

I threw a sheet of foil in to catch the drips as best I could.

Then the oven started getting smoky.  And the pans kept dripping.

I tried to open the recently painted kitchen windows, but they were stuck.  I opened the screen on the storm door and turned on the ceiling fan.  And opened some other windows.  The kitchen started filling with smoke.


Yes, the smoke alarm.  Followed within seconds by the phone, as the monitoring service called to check on us.

“We are FINE.  There is cake batter burning in the oven!  I can’t hear you.  DO NOT send the fire department.  I can’t hear you!  My problem is that I can’t hear myself think with this alarm going off!”


“We cannot turn off or instruct you how to turn off your smoke detector.”


“Then I guess you can’t help me.  I have to get the batter out of my house.  Goodbye.”


Darling Bebe is in the fetal position on the couch.  She cannot stand loud noises of any kind.

I am now doing the smoke-swatting dance beneath the smoke detector to try to make the d*** thing stop so I can at least hear myself think.

I grab a cast-iron pan and spatula, scoop the burning batter into the pan and take it out the back door.  At least there is nothing on fire inside the house anymore.  It ought to clear now.


Any time now.

I’ve had to readjust the baking time on the still-baking cakes.  Because dagnabbit, there will be cake, I tell you.

Finally ~ mercifully ~ the alarm stops screaming.  About three minutes later, Mr. Owl strolls in from an evening engagement.

“What’s burning on the patio?”

“Do not ask.  I am living through an episode of ‘I Love Lucy.'”

“Why don’t you just buy a cake?”

Death glare.

As wise KnittingKittens reminded me, frosting covers a multitude of sins.

Which is a good thing.  Because even the daughter of an engineer can only do so much with a couple of cakes that refuse to let go of their pans.  At least they did exactly what I expected them to do.

Deep in the owl hours, long after putting my traumatized owlet to bed, I decided that there was probably a reason for the traditional pecan/coconut frosting.  No smooth artistic swirls here.  Neither muss no fuss for that part of the cake assembly.  Just slap on the goo and let it drip on down the sides.

Boy, am I gonna get an earful about this after DB goes to school tomorrow.  All the fun scooping and measuring and mixing is nixed.  “Mommy made the kitchen smoke and it was burning …” Sigh.

Was Dad surprised?  Was he ever.

Inexplicably, it was the best German chocolate cake we ever had.

I’d show you a picture, but he packed up the rest and took it home.

But I swear I’m convinced that I’m just a puppet in someone else’s cosmic sitcom.  Someday I may find out whose.


August 3, 2011

Heavens to Murgatroyd!  Nearly a month since my last post?  My knee-jerk response would be, “I’m not sure how that happened.”  But to bring you up-to-date, it sort of makes sense.  Since I last wrote here:

~ I have been head-hunted aggressively.  It has been most welcome, and deservedly time-consuming.  If the stars align properly the pay-off will be enormous.

Digression:  Since you are all aware that my skill with a needle and thread is inversely proportional to my skill with knitting needles and yarn, you can make your own mental picture of me, the night before a Big Interview, hemming my suit slacks by hand, having discovered at wise KnittingKittens’ urging, that even with heels, they were too d*** long.  At least it prevented me from obsessing too much about other things.  And if it didn’t go well, guess who was going to get a wake-up call and an Owl on her door-step?

~ I have been successful in the first step toward (depending on your POV) owning a white-elephant money pit we shall refer to as Owl’s Folly OR preserving an incredible piece of my city’s history.  This first approval has taken three months of meetings with contractors, bankers and other involved parties as well as waiting, and then waiting some more.  The process promises more waiting yet to come.  That’s okay, I have all the time in the world.  If it works out, NutmegOwl shall have her own Knitting Studio in her own owl box.  There, I said it.

~ The at-fault party finally paid for the last bill related to wrecking my car on December 1, 2010.

~ I completed not one, not two, but three shawls.  You’ve only seen a glimpse of one of them.  The blocking runway has been hopelessly jammed up.  (Which will never again happen if I am living in Owl’s Folly where there will be dedicated blocking space.)

~  Darling Bebe and I discovered that not only do Amtrak riders loathe sharing seats with other riders, but also conductors refuse to use their authority to make passengers move so that toddlers can safely sit in seats – much less sit with their mommies.  Nope.  Instead, the conductor in question told us to stand in the space between cars until the next stop – a half-hour away – until some people got off and try to locate seats then.  No matter that this was the expensive train, the Acela Express, and that we paid for two seats, as opposed to those fellow passengers who paid for one seat but were taking up two.  D’ya really think that was the safest place to tell a three-year-old to stand?  May a special place in heaven be reserved for the mommy who witnessed our predicament, moved her husband and herself to allow us to sit together.  And if you ever see a mother and child looking for seats on a train, do the right thing.

~ I started completing my commissions for Rhinebeck for Spirit Trail Fiberworks.  Yes – in July for October.  I’m ahead in one tiny part of my world.  Stay tuned for pictures and deets.

~ I received a big national industry award for my work.  Someone thinks I’m good at what I do, if not the person who employs me to do it and routinely castigates me for neither doing enough, nor executing it well enough.

~ Most importantly, during the most historic sweltering days New England can remember, I was able to see not one, but two of my favorite women in the world.The aforementioned award meant a trip to Boston to receive it.  Which meant some free time, too.  And a truly wonderful meal at Sel de la Terre with Hipparchia.   Hipparchia is wise and funny and the most fearless

A s'more is a s'more

knitter I’ve ever known.  Somehow she manages to churn out lovely projects while lecturing all over the world, teaching, writing and raising amazing young people.  I should be so lucky when I grow up.  And I only have so many friends who appreciate fresh duck liver mousse and take me places where I can get it.  Which is not to say that being a foodie means taking ourselves too seriously.  I mean, “warm molten chocolate fondant, toasted house made marshmallow; graham cracker ice cream” is really s’mores deconstructed, right?  Bring on the campfire!

Gather Here

A mere day later, with my business completed and the car-mometer well into the hundreds, it was time to meet cyber-sis Luann on her turf at Gather Here in Cambridge.  It was easy to see the appeal of — sewing — (There!  I said it!) surrounded by bolt after bolt of fresh bright prints.  Then again, with the AC not functioning well, it had to be in the upper ’90s indoors, so the thought of knitting or spinning was a little, umm, unappealing to say the least.

Luann's prezzie for Owl

No matter, for as you all know, when we are together, knitting is the least of it.  Of course, she had to blow me away with her new seamstress skills.  To wit, my new knitting bag – which she somehow knew I needed.  The fabric from her stash from her days in Hawaii (I only hope the writing doesn’t say, This idiot

Look! It's nutmeg!

paid too much!), and look at the lining – NUTMEG! – and with a perfectly centered pocket and magnetic closure, no less.  If she is not careful, Luann and KnittingKittens are going to be sewing an awful lot of drapes for Owl’s Folly.

Shall we call ourselves caught up, then?


June 28, 2011

Sometimes it is the simple things that just cannot be simple.

In advance of some surgery last month, I carefully matched up some patterns and yarn with an eye to some easy and ~ above all ~ mindless knitting.  You know, nothing that would go wonky with a few days of prescription painkiller consumption.  (Of course, exactly the way I over-plan for travel knitting, I over-prepared for the actual time I’d spend knitting while laid up, but that’s a separate issue …  It turned out to have been a very good thing that I did.)

Paula in 3 coordinating blues

I chose the very pretty Sothia, a striped shawl in garter-stitch by Robin Ulrich.  Now, I know that all sock yarns are not created alike – calling a yarn “a sock weight” leaves a good deal of range in the actual thickness of the yarn involved.  I want to use Dirty Water Dyeworks Paula, 100% Bluefaced Leicester.  My plan is to blend these three shades rather than just two.  Paula has very comparable yardage/weight to the model yarn that Robin used, so to any reasonable soul, it’s going to be a good match.  Note the qualifier in the preceding sentence.

Time to swatch.

Which is where things go all sideways ~ even without the administration of the aforementioned meds.

The pattern seeks a gauge of 5.5 stitches/inch in garter stitch stripes.  The tester achieved this on a US 6 needle.  Now, I am fully aware that there is absolutely no meaningful relationship between my knitting tension and the unknown-to-me test-knitter’s.  I get that.

I'm down 3 needle sizes and not close to gauge!

So I swatch with my BFL on US 3 (3.25mm) Addi Turbos.  I get a gauge of 5 st/inch.  Which means I have to use smaller needles.  Bearing in mind that Addis use different metric sizes than some US markings, I next swatch on Addi US 1.

My gauge is 5.25 st/inch.

*  Ignore that this photo shows smallish swatch still on the cord – I wanted you to see how fine we’re talking about here.  To illustrate a really good swatch, I’d knit another 50 rows and it would be off the needle when I measured.

Meaning that I really should go down one more needle size if I want to match the gauge of the pattern.  This isn’t critical ~ it is a shawl.

It is the Big Picture that stops me dead.

Do I want to knit an entire shawl in garter stitch on US 0 needles?

Do I want to knit an entire shawl in garter stitch on US 1 needles, for that matter?

Nope.  Nuh-uh.  No way, nohow.

Call me stuck right here.  Very glad that for once, my over-preparation was not, after all, excessive.

There were plenty of other simple things standing by to be knit.

But I’ll be darned if I can figure out what to do about Sothia and my BFL.  Chime in with your bright ideas.

Who killed (Kil)kenny?

February 11, 2011

Sometimes a mindlessly enjoyable/enjoyably mindless project brings inattention.  Knitting auto-pilot.  The results are usually smashing.

Last night, I was thinking about Luann’s advice to add a few repeats to my Kilkenny Cowl.  At this point, there was far more yarn left than there should have been.  Suspiciously, I brought out the tape measure.

Nearly complete? I think not.

The project is four inches shorter than it should be.  Let’s check that gauge.  You know, the gauge you never bothered to check as you knitted and knitted and knitted …

For finer gauges, I know I tend to knit loosely, so I always start a couple of needle sizes below what a pattern calls for.  And for an accessory like a cowl, if it looks okay, I just keep going.  Repeat after me:  “Mistake.”

Lousy close-up

I’m getting 6.2 st/in versus the intended 5.1 st/inch.  That’s a mega-difference in the final circumference.

None of this is the fault of the very versatile Quince & Co. Chickadee, which has gladly produced the cables and lace throughout this sampler pattern.  The texture is certainly sproingy.  But perhaps too dense.  In fact, it could use some drape.  And some circumference.

In spite of being nearly finished, I know I can’t be happy with it leaving it be.

Decision made.  You know what comes next.

In lieu of lunch

The ball-winder joined me for lunch.

And I killed Kilkenny.  Only to cast on, again, of course.

This is only regrettable tragic in that it represents Knitting Time Lost.  KTL cannot be regained.  Battling a wicked case of start-itis (when I would like to start five new things this very minute), this development is most unwelcome.  But the pattern is wonderful and the yarn, more so.

I killed (Kil)kenny

At least with knitting, we get do-overs …

The mittens, shawl and mitts can wait. Really, they can. The yarn is not going to go bad waiting.  Really, it’s not.

You know you want to wrangle the WIPs to a minimum.

Stand firm, Owl!

It’s not like spring will be here any time soon.


December 12, 2010

She’s making a list … and checking it twice …

For someone who says every year that she doesn’t do holiday knitting, this looks suspiciously like … holiday knitting.


  • Complete thumbs on Humanity mitts for Darling Bebe’s teacher
  • Complete knitting on Eve mitts for Darling Bebe’s teacher
  • Start knitting nephew’s personal pattern family stocking featuring fair-isle and intarsia.  (This is the fourth one, so at least I’ve worked the kinks out of my design.  But if my sister should ever have a fifth child, that one’s on its own for stockings.  Harrumph.)
  • Complete knitting Mom’s Ishbel in Spirit Trail Fiberworks Sunna


Oh – that is the KNITTING list.  We haven’t begun to think about the remainders of the ongoing Mommy list.

Good thing there’s a day of jury duty scheduled.  I suspect we’ll see more of the owl hours … then again, that’s why they are the Owl hours, n’est-ce pas?

Rinse, repeat

November 10, 2010

… and repeat … and repeat … and repeat … and repeat.

You get the idea.

I realized the other night that I needed to get my Spring is in the Air shawl blocked if I was to take it with me to the Knitter’s Review Retreat.  No biggie – the blocking bed was clear, so it was just a matter of a Eucalan soak and pinning out.

The Yarn Goddess laughed out loud.  So did the writers of my cosmic sitcom.

See, I chose this Sundara Sock in Caribbean for its intense blue-green.  After a two-hour soak in what started as very warm water, the bath in the blocking bowl was a lovely shade of aquamarine.  Okay, we’ll need to rinse this a bit.

… Only problem was, every bowl of rinse water was a shade of swimming pool, starting with YMCA blue.  With each rinse, I thought about a pool I’d been in at some point in my life.

I gave that up around the 20th rinse.  And I stopped counting rinses.

I abandoned the rinse bowl and went straight to running water through it from the spigot, except for periodic checks in my snow-white bowl.  Checks that revealed more swimming-pool blue.

How ’bout another Eucalan bath?

Look: the same YMCA pool blue I started with.  Again. Every time I used woolwash, I went back to the beginning with intensely blue water.

This went on for an hour.

Because what would be the point of wearing a bright blue-green shawl over a white shirt that would presumably pick up transferred dye?

It was, of course, the owl hours when I gave up and tiptoed up two flights to pin it out. 

(Yes, I know there was some kind of an alternative involving vinegar, but my own dyeing experiments have shown that if the vinegar doesn’t strike right, your dye job is a mess.  And I could not contemplate going back online at that hour with my now-pruny fingers.  Feel free to enlighten me for future events …)

The Yarn Goddess or my dear St. Jude took pity then, because this was the. easiest. pinning. job. ever.

Spring is in the Air (and on pins)

My working theory is that the double decreases that make up the majority of the pattern were a great place for dye to hide, and it took a l-o-n-g time for the woolwash and water to penetrate.  Makes as much sense as anything else.

Pattern: Spring is in the Air by Kristi Holaas, large size, not beaded.

Needles: US 5 Addi Lace

Modifications: Alternated skeins along the garter-stitch border.  Worked the minimum bottom edge repeat for less pronounced points.  Dagger tips are more fussy-looking than I like.

Crescent shape achieved through lifeline

Blocking: To achieve a true crescent shape, I ran a strand of crochet cotton lifeline through the border prior to soaking.  I first pinned the corners; then located the center point on the bottom edge and pinned that.  Pinning then radiated from the bottom center with minimal readjustment and no additional pinning of neck edge.

Places for excess dye to hide

Finished size: Used 153 grams, blocked to 20.5 inches deep at deepest part of curve.

Observation: My wrists definitely did not like the very repetitive mesh pattern.  This is good to remember for future pattern selection.

You’ll get prettier pix another time.  Perhaps someone will volunteer to help me this weekend.

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