Odds and Lots of Ends

Though the sun is deceptively bright in the sky, it's still bitterly cold here in Detroit. If moving hadn't gotten in my way, I would have been able to wear my Icelandic sweater this weekend. I finished the body this morning, but ran out of time to get the button bands done. It's ready to steek though--just as soon as I knit both button bands, the neckband and weave in all of those ends. Those thousands of little ends seem to be what I find most daunting right now. I'm a little sorry I didn't rip it back to fix my color chart mistakes, but I think with a little duplicate stitching, I can achieve the effect I want to see. I think there should be a small pattern of white stitches right in the middle. Or not. We'll see when it's all done.

Gosh, I love, love, love this sweater!!!

I'm still in the throes of unpacking and getting my life in order. Last night, we took a break and went up to the bar to watch Michigan State send Northern Iowa back from whence they came on giant television screens. The place was packed to the rafters with revelers singing the Michigan State fight song. Weaving is going a little slowly this afternoon, and all due to a little too much revelry on my part and way too much of the Belgian ale. Is it just me, or does everyone think those boys from Iowa are a little big? I think they've been eating too much corn. They looked like giants against Michigan's players, but that only shows to go ya that size isn't everything, especially when your star player is benched with injuries. I'm going back to the bar tomorrow afternoon to watch them play Tennessee (be still my heart...did they really beat Ohio State?).

I plead the Fifth on whether or not that's all yarn in the knitting room.

After living a year in a neighborhood where neighbors didn't speak to one another, so far I've met Richard next door, Katy across the street who teaches emotionally impaired Detroit students (either she's brave, foolhardy, a mix of both or a saint), the other lady across the street who is on the city council in my town, and 95 year old Roy. Or Ray.

Where in the hell did I put my bed?

Roy (or Ray), walked up my steps and presented me with a loaf of freshly baked bread and Scottish shortbread that he had baked himself. He was wearing a Tartan plaid hat but denied he was of Scottish heritage. I forgot what he said his name was, because I was overwhelmed by the loaf of the still-warm bread he handed me and more importantly, his kindness. His neighborliness warmed my heart, but that bread? That bread melted it. Roy (or Ray) told me this is a tightly knit little neighborhood where everyone looks out for each other. He made our house feel even more like home.

Now here is a picture of what I'm desperately trying to avoid, but this sweater has lots of ends I've got to get rid of before I can cut it open. Go ahead and click on that picture to get a better idea.

A note on the photos: they're all taken by my computer. For some reason, the camera transfer cord is still MIA. It's probably packed in with the yarn somewhere even though I swore I had packed it with the phone charging cords, and they're both where they're supposed to be.

A note on the sweater: I wear a size large sweater. I love the room and I love to layer. A size small in this sweater had a 44 inch bust which is something I don't have, and never did have, except maybe when I was nursing. Even then, I don't think I reached a size 44, but I had plenty of cleavage and could finally fill out a bra. Nowadays, I'm lucky to fit in a mostly an A, but nearly B cup, and my bust size is a 38. A lot of the other women in my class knit the large and I saw one today that looked so big on the knitter. I knit the small, and I'm so glad I did. Even though it's a small, this has lots of positive ease and plenty of room to spare.