I Double Dog Dare Ya: The Khajiit Cowl

I have to admit: 90% of all the knitting I've done since June has been, well, less than a challenge for me. Easy-peasy stuff. The old knitting mojo was at a low point, and we were traveling a goodish bit, which always puts a kink in my knitting time. That, and I just can't focus as well on the run as I do from the comfort of my well-broken-in knitting chair.  Excuses, excuses. Such a wuss, right?

That is all gonna change. Today.

I would still be a lazy knitter if left to my own devices. But while visiting us at Christmas, our middle daughter announced a trip she is planning to Prague, Moscow, and Altay, Kazakhstan in MARCH. This March. I am thrilled she is taking such a neat and interesting expedition, but in MARCH? I love that she's planning some of her trekking on the Trans Siberian Railroad, staying in hostels, hiking rural areas generally off the beaten path. Seriously proud of her, actually. 

I can't help that the mom thing kicked in, my adrenalin soaring through the roof as my brain buzzed "MUST knit something WARM ... must knit something SERIOUSLY warm .... RIGHT NOW".  Looking at the Altay weather archives for March 2013, the high for the month was 38 degrees Farenheit, the low -12!!! Most of the time, the mercury hovered in the low teens and twenties. Moscow was just as daunting: It never went above 40 degrees for the month of March. Most of March averaged consistently in the low twenties. And Prague? Warmest high temp was 40, lowest was 19. Mainly low 20s and 30s throughout. Brrrrrrrr.

Not comforting to a mom.  At. All.

I casually mention that I'd be happy to knit her a hat or whatever she wants for her trip. And I also open up the Ravelry pattern tab, type hats into the search box, tick off the aran and bulky weight yarn tabs, with stranded colorwork thrown in as an option for good measure. All the while my brain is screaming "IT HAS TO BE  WAAAAAAARM." But I am calm and impassive. Nothing makes a kid balk faster than knowing mom is trying to be protective. 


She already had some ideas. 
One was a hat much like Botticelli's A Boy: 
"A round, flat topped, straight sided, squat, felted hat, in navy blue, oh, and with earflaps" was her idea of a perfect hat. Could I do that? 

Well, sure. 

She paused, took a good look at me, mentally measuring my demeanor. "Or, how about a hood of some kind?"

All those well-below freezing temperatures were dancing before me, taunting. A hood could be pulled up securely over the head, or bunched up around the neck, or pulled down around the torso, used as a shield against the wind and blowing snow, bundling my dear daughter in woolly coziness. 

Now yer talkin. 

She searched the Ravelry.com patterns database for hoods. Most of them were fairly decorative things; lacey, even. I felt slightly ill. Then the Khajiit Cowl popped up, and my daughter immediately said "I REALLY like this one."  

I peeked over: Bulky yarn, cables galore, could be pulled down over the body like a capelet, with a deep, short-row shaped hood to stay put on the head, knit in a stiff, wind rebuffing gauge. Its slightly Renaissance-y, monk-ish feel  satisfied her penchant for something along those design lines. 

I felt some measure of relief. She wanted a "warm neutral color". The designer designated Cascade Ecological Wool. After an extensive internet search looking for options with a smidgeon of alpaca or cashmere in them and finding nothing suitable, she went with the color Mocha (8085) in the Ecological Wool. I pressed send on the order button, and sat back to await its arrival. 

The fat envelope with two hanks arrived today along with another envelope bearing an order of Hiya Hiya circular needles. My lazy days of mindless knitting are over. Kaput. We are now in serious warmth mode, serious cable mode, serious short-row mode. This could be my biggest challenge ever. I'll definitely be on a huge learning curve with those pesky short rows incorporated into complicated cables. 

For anyone else contemplating this pattern, I suggest you take a good, long look at the KAL posts on Ravelry. There are definite hurdles, and the designer did not have the cowl test knit before releasing the pattern. There have been several revisions since the relatively recent release, and all of the KAL participants have found the short row directions somewhat inscrutable to the point where folks have drawn their own maps for that elegant curve at the back of the hood. The cowl is so lovely, though, that the extra preliminary sleuthing is worth the effort, as is knitting a gauge swatch of Chart B, as suggested. Before knitting a single stitch, my pattern is already a labyrinth of notes, numbers, color-coding and cross references. 

Time to get a move on. All those frigid temperatures in Prague, Moscow and Altay will keep me knitting. And knitting. Stay tuned.

Little Hearts

Happy Valentine's Day. I always called it a Hallmark holiday, but most folks aren't as cynical as me. Daughter Julia ignores it completely, but still expects a package of goodies each year. Go figure. This year, I sent each of my far away kiddos chocolates in heart boxes. When they were little bitty kids, Fannie May stores were in several neighborhoods in the D.C. area. I would get each of them a half-pound heart shaped box and a card, which they'd find at their place at the breakfast table on Valentine's Day. I discovered that just because they grow up and move out doesn't mean I'm off the hook. They still expect their Valentine chocolates! And their Easter bunnies, Christmas stockings, etc.

Claire's been seriously under the weather with the flu since Sunday. I had a less virulent version, so I went to GAUGE on Monday and bought some Malabrigo worsted for both of us to knit a couple of easy (mindless) projects. My brain was too feverish to work on SOTSii lace project, but I had to do something while taking it easy.
The too-cute-for-words hat to the left is one of them. Called Si CAPITAN, by talented fiber artist Rosi Garmendia, it took only eight hours to make and fifteen minutes to pack up and Express Mail to Liz. Claire felt too awful to knit, so while keeping her company and supplying endless pots of tea and bowls of soup, I knit. Claire wasn't really happy about modeling it, but it was the only option before it vanished into the ether. I think it looks cute on her --- she claims she isn't a hat person.

I bought two hanks of this Amoroso colorway, so another one will be on the way to Julia in March, when I make it during Malabrigo March (a challenge on the Malabrigo Junkies board on Ravelry.)

There was a lot left on one hank, so I knit up and felted these little hearts, which Claire then stuffed and whipstitched together as little Valentine gifts for friends.

Our knitting group met this morning, so last night I made a batch of my Aunt Esther's justly famous frosted sugar cookies for everyone to enjoy. They are exactly as I remember them as a kid: Slightly crisp, sweet, sandy textured, and very vanilla-y.

Every year, on the day before Valentine's Day, Aunt Esther'd spend the entire day making an enormous batch of these, coloring the icing the same pale, delicate pink. I was transported back to her sunny kitchen some 50 years ago, when I wasn't even tall enough to look over the counter. I had a sixth sense when she was making cookies, and since our families lived across the street from each other, I'd appear at her elbow with wide, expectant eyes. She never disappointed, and always offered me my own plateful with a glass of milk at her dining room table. Every Valentine's Day, she set that table with a lace tablecloth and a bowl of pink carnations. She made the evening meal a treat for her family, with those cookies as the dessert. Every year. Without fail.

Years after I'd left the nest, I always sent her a Valentine's Day card thanking her for all the years of Valentine cookie baking days.

She now lives in a nursing home. During a visit last summer, she asked me if I remembered all the Valentine cookies we made together. Well, she made them; I just ate them. But her touching reminisce will always stick with me.

Happy Valentine's Day, Aunt Esther.