The Cowl, the Cat, and the Sorbetto
I have this unwritten rule about my finished projects: Don't wear them until you've taken photos of them. There are a couple of reasons for this:
Last Sunday, I finished a cowl made out of three skeins of Sublime Yarns Tussah Silk DK, a 50/50 silk/viscose blend. I purchased it at The Loop last spring, and I meant to make a "summer scarf" out of it, but it didn't get on the needles until a couple of weeks ago. It was such a lovely knit: it warmed my fingers on the chilly evenings after I finished washing the dishes. I knew silk was warm, but it's so nice the way it glides along the needles and across my hands, even when it's a textured yarn like this.
I used Megan Goodacre's Canaletto Cowl pattern, but made a few adjustments to the central section to make it into a strip of linen-like stitches. I was in love with it as I was knitting it, and I was even more happy after I bound off and blocked it. But then, it was dark. And all week, by the time I had time to take photos of it, it was dark, too.
By Thursday, I was tired of waiting to take photos of it, so I brought it to work to show it off. On Friday, I wore it again. It felt lovely against my neck as I drove to an out-of-town appointment. When I finished at my appointment, I stopped at a convenience store and picked up a drink and a wee container of sorbetto, lime flavoured... mmm... I ate the sorbetto, got into the car, and started driving home. I'll be back in time to take photos of my cowl, I said to myself confidently.
About two-thirds of the way home, I happened to glance down and saw a flash of lime green. Wait a minute. What the heck was that? I thought to myself. I glanced again, and there it was: a big glob of sorbetto on my silk cowl. "Nooooooo...." I cried, my voice echoing in classic movie-style heartache. And it wasn't the only one. I found two spots. Fricken heck.
I got home, rushed past my waiting hubby and dog, and went straight to the bathroom to wash it out. I hung it to dry with a sense of relief. At least it's early enough for me to take photos after we come back from walking Rascal, I thought to myself. I felt great knowing the cowl had survived a possible disaster and would still be fine for the photos.
Little did I know that, when I got back from Rascal's walk, I'd spend the next half hour crawling around on my belly trying to help the neighbour's kids get their cat out from under our deck. I've never seen such a determined cat, even after spending time volunteering for the local Humane Society. I've chased enough cats (and rabbits, too, come to think of it) to award me some kind of feline-capture-expert status, but this one was determined to live under our deck until the next apocalypse.
By the time we got Smokey the cat home (carried by two children who had to hold it upside-down with two legs in each hand and a third bracing it under its back to avoid all the hissing and snarling), it was, of course, too dark. Another chance missed.
I finally got around to it today. The hat is onto hide bedhead for special effect. Incidentally, that hat is all of a sudden too big for my head. It had either stretched or my brain has shrunk, and after this work week, either is entirely possible.
Let this be a lesson: Patience is Golden. No wearing finished objects until the photos are taken. You never know when a cat and a bowl of ice cream are going to ruin it for you!
- I feel like they deserve to be unveiled first on this blog.
- I worry that something will be wrecked before I get photos of them. After all, I need proof of what I spent all that time doing.
Last Sunday, I finished a cowl made out of three skeins of Sublime Yarns Tussah Silk DK, a 50/50 silk/viscose blend. I purchased it at The Loop last spring, and I meant to make a "summer scarf" out of it, but it didn't get on the needles until a couple of weeks ago. It was such a lovely knit: it warmed my fingers on the chilly evenings after I finished washing the dishes. I knew silk was warm, but it's so nice the way it glides along the needles and across my hands, even when it's a textured yarn like this.
I used Megan Goodacre's Canaletto Cowl pattern, but made a few adjustments to the central section to make it into a strip of linen-like stitches. I was in love with it as I was knitting it, and I was even more happy after I bound off and blocked it. But then, it was dark. And all week, by the time I had time to take photos of it, it was dark, too.
By Thursday, I was tired of waiting to take photos of it, so I brought it to work to show it off. On Friday, I wore it again. It felt lovely against my neck as I drove to an out-of-town appointment. When I finished at my appointment, I stopped at a convenience store and picked up a drink and a wee container of sorbetto, lime flavoured... mmm... I ate the sorbetto, got into the car, and started driving home. I'll be back in time to take photos of my cowl, I said to myself confidently.
About two-thirds of the way home, I happened to glance down and saw a flash of lime green. Wait a minute. What the heck was that? I thought to myself. I glanced again, and there it was: a big glob of sorbetto on my silk cowl. "Nooooooo...." I cried, my voice echoing in classic movie-style heartache. And it wasn't the only one. I found two spots. Fricken heck.
I got home, rushed past my waiting hubby and dog, and went straight to the bathroom to wash it out. I hung it to dry with a sense of relief. At least it's early enough for me to take photos after we come back from walking Rascal, I thought to myself. I felt great knowing the cowl had survived a possible disaster and would still be fine for the photos.
Little did I know that, when I got back from Rascal's walk, I'd spend the next half hour crawling around on my belly trying to help the neighbour's kids get their cat out from under our deck. I've never seen such a determined cat, even after spending time volunteering for the local Humane Society. I've chased enough cats (and rabbits, too, come to think of it) to award me some kind of feline-capture-expert status, but this one was determined to live under our deck until the next apocalypse.
By the time we got Smokey the cat home (carried by two children who had to hold it upside-down with two legs in each hand and a third bracing it under its back to avoid all the hissing and snarling), it was, of course, too dark. Another chance missed.
I finally got around to it today. The hat is on
Let this be a lesson: Patience is Golden. No wearing finished objects until the photos are taken. You never know when a cat and a bowl of ice cream are going to ruin it for you!
Comments
Way to go cat catcher. I find a bag of catnip or treats the best enticement.
Hmm, I think my husband may have been doing that with yarn to entice me out of the house. He is a smart one.