Last night, while watching Battlestar Galactica, I knit up a feather and fan swatch for this cardigan (Ravelry link, sorry). What a perfectly delightful stitch pattern! Anyway, the pattern calls for a gauge of 6 sts/inch and I got a gauge of 5.8. I tore out my swatch and started it again on smaller needles. I knit about an inch or so before I was forced by extreme exhaustion to drag myself to bed. As I lay there drifting off, I realized that this yarn will probably shrink a bit in the wash–possibly giving me the gauge I need, perhaps? My last thought before sleep overtook me was that I shouldn’t have frogged the first swatch. The plan today is to reknit the swatch with the larger needles and wash it before I measure it. Hooray! Sweater knitting adventures!
Friday is Yarn Day
Yes, it’s true. Look what came in the mail today:

Enough yarn to make two sweaters and a skirt (for me),


And a kick-ass book.

How much do I love KnitPicks? A lot! Do you love KnitPicks?
You Know You Do Too
I have a friend who is doing me an enormous favor by giving me weekly acupuncture treatments and only asking that I cover the cost of the needles, which turns out to be about $10/treatment. I offered begged pleaded with her to let me pay her for her time but she flat-out refused, so I decided to knit her a thank you gift. My first idea was to knit her a pair of socks, and I went online and ordered some lovely yarn. I must have forgotten about it because the very next day, I decided that she would probably enjoy a dishcloth or two and cast on this and then this. Then the yarn I ordered surprised me by showing up in my mailbox. I must have been feeling generous when I ordered it because look what I got:

People, I can’t knit up this yarn and send it off to gods know where! The only thing I want to do with this yarn is leave it on my desk where I can admire it and maybe sometimes cuddle it and sniff it.
I know. I have problems.
Not Really Newsday Tuesday
And now from our not-really-news desk:
The USGS released a report yesterday that predicted a 99.7% chance that a “big” (being defined as magnitude 6.7 or greater) quake will strike Southern California within the next 30 years.
This is NOT news, USGS!!!
There were no less than four earthquakes in Southern California registering 6.7 or greater during the 6 years that I lived there and a great many more “lesser” quakes, including one for which I had the enormous privilege of being withing five miles of the epicenter. And, there have been two more “larger” quakes since I moved away! (Note that there were several quakes in So. Cal. in the last 20 years, but only six were of magnitude 6.7 or greater. Most ranged instead between 4.0 and 6.0 magnitude.)
Southern Californians already know they live in an earthquake prone area and that a big earthquake could strike at any time. I think what would have been more helpful to know is when The Big One can be expected. How about you make a prediction about that, USGS?
Stream of Consciousness Monday
It’s Monday. I didn’t make the coffee strong enough. I’m on my 3rd day of doing Core. It sucks. My Totally Awesome Sister is trying to get a good start on her novel–she’s shooting for 3 chapters completed by the end of April. Go over and wish her luck. I finished one Tribble scrubbie only to immediately cast on another. I frogged my secret project. Yesterday we moved a bunch of shit into storage because we are going to put our condo on the market soon. I just ate a blueberry that tasted like feet.

see more crazy cat pics
UPDATE 4/15: I fixed the Tribble srubbie link. Sorry about that. :-)
Dear New Projects,
I love you. I really, really do. I’m so glad I cast you on.

I could knit you forever and ever. You truly have restored my love of knitting and given me hope for my knitting future.

See you soon!
All my love,
Jen
More Biology in Knitting
No WsIP to share today so how about some knitted biology instead?
This gorgeous dissected frog is from CraftyHedgehog and the pattern is available for download on Etsy. (She can also be found on Ravelry.)
One Man’s Legacy
Some people skateboard, and are really good at it. There are those who cook or sing or write. Others knit. Then there is this man. He plays music with his hands. And he rocks.
(He’s got something for everyone, so be sure to check out some of other videos.)
ETA Mr. Interrupted’s reaction: “It’s like a theramin, only… it isn’t.”
Thanks to Scalzi for pointing me in his general direction!
#1’s Sweater
Done!

- Yarn: Knit Picks’ Wool of the Andes
- Pattern: Knitting Pure & Simple Child’s Tunic.
- More details can be found on Ravelry.
#1 had forgotten one of the two (yes, two) sweaters he owned at a playdate, so I worked hard to get this sweater finished quickly. For a knitter’s kid, #1 was sadly deficient in the sweater department. Of course, since the cold weather has persisted, we ended up over at the second hand store the other day to pick up a couple of commercially made sweaters to round out his spring weather wardrobe, but this hand-knit is, by far, my favorite. (Naturally.)
I am still trying to claw my way out of a knitting slump and have been obsessing lately about knitting socks. I’ve enjoyed knitting this sweater and have three seven other sweater projects I want to cast on, but dudes, I need get some smallish projects going first. How about this? Or this? And maybe this? Well, onward it is!
A Silly 10th Doctor Story
In honor of Saturday’s series four premiere of Doctor Who, I present you with a silly 10th Doctor story, based on an ACTUAL dream I had a few weeks ago. (Rated G, in case you are wondering…) Also, sorry if the language is redundant. It’s way past my bedtime here.
Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The noise of the marketplace nearly overwhelmed Martha as she stepped with the Doctor from the TARDIS. She stood, stunned, and waited while he quickly locked the TARDIS door.
When he spun around, he said, grandly and with a sweep of his arm, “The Bazaar of Bamberga! Come on, then. Let’s see what we can see.” And with that, he strode into the crowd.
Martha’s senses were assailed by the strange sights and smells and sounds of the busy marketplace as she pushed past two strange looking aliens who appeared to be arguing with a vendor over the cost of a length of cloth. She tried to stay focused on keeping up with the Doctor as she made her way through the crowd.
The Doctor stopped suddenly at a table and picked up a small round object that looked to Martha like a metallic perfume bottle. He was holding it very near to his nose and peering at it intently.
“What’s that?” She asked.
“Hmm?” He replied, lost in thought. Then, he noticed she was looking up at him and he said casually, “Oh, it’s made of Bezoolium. It forecasts the weather.” He shrugged and offered the object to Martha to examine. “A silly little trinket, really. You wanna see it?”
Martha shook her head and he placed the Bezoolium bottle back on the seller’s table with an apologetic smile. Together they moved away from the table. “This whole marketplace is built on an enormous asteroid,” he was saying as she walked along side him, trying to take everything in.
Suddenly, there was an enormous cheer, rising up from the crowd ahead of them. The Doctor and Martha looked at each other. He raised his eyebrows and she smiled back at him. “Shall we?” He asked. Martha nodded and together they headed toward the boisterous cluster of humans and aliens.
They pushed into the throng which had gathered around a vendor’s booth. A largeish box had been placed upon a table and the vendor was shouting at the crowd. It soon became clear that he was running a sort of auction, taking bids on the box while talking up its features.
The box itself was beautiful, made from ornately carved wood. “What’s in it?” Martha wondered aloud.
The Doctor shook his head and was about to answer when the alien standing on Martha’s other side said, “Dunno, but ‘e says it’s the last one in the universe. I figure I’m going to take it home and cook it for my dinner.” The man practically drooled as he shouted another bid at the merchant.
“That doesn’t seem right,” the Doctor said with a sigh. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t just take the last of something in the Universe and make it into your dinner.” To Martha’s surprise he shouted a bid and was quickly outbid by another in the crowd.
“But do you know what it is?” Martha asked.
“I’m not sure it matters,” the Doctor replied, making another bid.
“Alright then,” Martha said, blinking in bewilderment. She shifted her weight and resigned herself to helping the Doctor shift that box back to the Tardis once he’d won it. It looked heavy.
Bidding on the mystery box was heated at times and its value, to Martha’s astonishment, rose sharply. It wasn’t long before the price of the box was well over a million BerDollars. At last, the Doctor was able to outbid the other buyers, settling on a price of twelve and a half million.
“Isn’t that a lot for a box that may very well be empty?” Martha said as he dug around in his pocket.
“Yeah,” he replied. “But it’ll be centuries before twelve and a half million BerDollars is worth more than a few quid. Ah.” He pulled a handful of coins and counted what looked to Martha to be about £2.50 into the vendor’s eagerly open hand. The man closed his fist around the coins and indicated that they could take the box.
The Doctor grinned as he directed Martha to one end of the box. She found a pair of handles and gripped them. When she was ready, he said, “on three?” before counting off.
The box was heavy, nearly thirty kilos in Martha’s estimation, and they struggled together to maneuver it through the surge of the marketplace crowds. Most of the gathered multitude steered clear of them as they made their way back to the TARDIS. Whatever was inside the box seemed to shift back and forth, making carrying the box more difficult. Martha thought she could hear scratching noises coming from inside the box and started to wonder what sort of creature was inside, waiting to greet them.
Somehow the Doctor was able to unlock the TARDIS door, and they went inside, Martha closing the door with her foot. They set the box down on the control room floor, very near the heart of the TARDIS, and stood for a moment, looking at the box before the Doctor said, “Well?”
“Well?” Martha said.
“Let’s open it!” The Doctor’s eyes shone with excitement.
“But how? There don’t seem to be any latches or hinges. It could be a solid block of wood for all we know.”
The Doctor was running his hands over the smooth carvings of the box. “Ah yes,” he said, “but if you know the secret combination…” and he began pushing randomly at the different carvings on the box. Nothing happened. “Or you can use technology.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver and, aiming it at the box, activated it.
After the deafening cacophony of the marketplace, the sound of the screwdriver was piercing in the relative silence of the TARDIS control room. Suddenly, the box fell open.
And from it leapt the most beautiful golden retriever Martha had ever seen. She laughed and bent down to scratch the dog’s ears as he happily licked her face. He wagged his tail frantically as he greeted Martha before bounding off to explore the depths of the TARDIS. Martha was grinning broadly, surprised, as she straightened and met the Doctor’s bewildered gaze.
“A dog?” he said, incredulous.
“A dog!” Martha replied, delighted.
“I can’t have a dog!” The Doctor said.
“Why not?”
“Well, I’ve already got a cat around here somewhere,” he said, looking around.
Martha stared at him. “You have a cat?”
The Doctor shrugged. “Yeah. It keeps the mice down.”
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.


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