Scarfing It Up

I'm scarfing it up in every sense of the word. All the Christmas edibles are still tempting me from every direction, home, office, even my desk stash drawer. But mostly I'm scarfing it up yarn-wise since I gave the Rosehips (shades of ruby red) Mountain Colors Moguls scarf to Gomez (she does live in Finland, after all). Plus she was whining and kvetching about never having received a knitted gift from me despite the mountains of stash and years of tolerating my knitting commentary. And there's a bit of chill in the air. It was 45 degrees in Miami this morning. Yes. 45 degrees Farenheit. Brrr. With an 18 mph wind blowing, with windchill it was close to freezing. And me without a scarf.  So I've started another Rosehip Moguls scarf (so sue me, I'm a slut for reds) as well as another modified Irish Hiking Scarf for Patrick (he of beneath the seas pictures from June/July blogging). Patrick is temporarily, he hopes, landlocked in Sussex County, NJ whilst looking for his next dive job. He's freezing his jewels off and none too happy about it.  We're going to try a variation on the reverse knitting curse. The reasoning is as follows:

If I don't knit him a scarf, he will continue to be stranded high, dry and freezing in the wilds of Sussex county. If I DO knit him a scarf, he will immediately find a job on another sub-tropical island where he will never have any reason to wear it.  Whaddaya think? Will it work?

The scarf will have at least two cables on it since I'm knitting it in much smaller gauge Mountain Colors aran-weight smooth wool in a lovely variegated blues with a bit of toasty gold-brown in it. (picture & colorway details to be inserted here when I get the camera in gear) It won't match his eyes which are Irish blue sky blue, but it will match his Irish temperament and proclivities. You should have seen the expression of scorn he shot my way when he told me he'd had a wolfhound once and I innocently asked if it was a Russian wolfhound. You see, I really love Borzois and had no idea Irish wolfhounds existed. O, the shame.

And I have it in mind to knit a couple of frilly Eros-type scarves for the Finnlettes before they leave next week.  You see, I've corrupted them already. The Saturday before Christmas I took them to the LYS to pick out yarn and needles for their learn-to-knit lessons from Uncle Caroline.  (think Uncle Tanous from the old, old Danny Thomas show?) When we were on the way there and they asked the inevitable "where are we going and are we there yet" question, I informed them that we were on our way to the yarn store to pet the yarn.  I explained that it was like a petting zoo only without the nasty smell and with a lot more colors.  They totally got it. And I noticed that most of the petting was of brilliantly colored frou-frou scarfs with long fifi fringes. Still a little bit beyond their skills.

So. I scarf therefore I am. For the forseeable future.

Comments

[Laurie]

Leading them down the primrose path. . .good for you! Knitting is in their blood, anyway, if they're Finnish.