Greetings from the Omnigraphic Blogopticon. On view are vile sticky things dragged from the attic, snarky commentary on the world at large, and all-encompassing ennui. All that and a weird rubbery smell. A horrible time will be had by all.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Because I Can't Knit Anything New

I've been rummaging around through my old 1880s Weldon's knitting patterns looking for a portable project to haul with me for the holidays. Trying yet again to knit the 1886 striped silk stockings, except in black and gray because I haven't bothered to buy the plethora of colors the original patterns calls for--black, dark blue, crimson, pink, and old gold. One day I'll knit a pair of gaudy Victorian silk stockings in all those colors, but for right now I'm having to make do with black and gray. I made a sad attempt to knit them in colored rayon yarn but the yarn was pretty nasty and had no spring whatsoever so they wouldn't have stretched at all. Pfffffft.

The striped silk version I posted is nearly the same pattern as the plain ribbed lady's wool stocking (not posted) on the page previous so I figured, what the hell, I'll just knit them in black and gray wool/silk blend since it looks like I'll never get around to gathering up all the colors in silk, plus it's going to be cold for a bit so I'll get some use out of them.


The Spotted Thing is trying very hard to not rip apart and eat what little I've knitted thus far. If he doesn't eat it, this will be the knitting project I carry home with me this Xmas. If the little monster does eat it, I'll be redoing it this Xmas.


Random Mysterious Observance: Inexplicably there is a straw boater on the ground outside my window. I'm wondering if a barbershop quartet was chased between the buildings while I was at work, running for their lives while wacky old-timey piano music played. Or perhaps one of them was mugged and some unfeeling bastard stole his little arm garters. I missed it either way. Crap.

Snow tomorrow, so I'm expecting to be sent home from work early. There'll be about 8" of snow on top of that sad, lonely little hat by Saturday. Shame I never got around to leash-training Grady because there sure as hell would have been pictures of the little monster up to his ears in snow.