Remember how I had to frog Marnie’s Moby sweater? I frogged it completely and just started over, and I’m finally back at the point I was in the first edition (I’ve decided to refer to them as editions, like books). So here I am:

Ambergris, by Ann Weaver (2nd edition)

I do note with satisfaction that the cable ropes are all done correctly in this edition; there was one error in the first version that would’ve bugged me forever, so you know, you take what comfort you can from a situation like this. I’ve already divided at the sleeves, so now I’m doing the front up to the neck, and then I’ll do the back. Then two sleeves, each with cable ropes up the center, assembly, and a turtleneck. I hope I can finish this while Marnie still has time to wear it this winter; since she lives in Chicago, the odds are pretty good.

Tonight I’m having a date with Will, which I’m really looking forward to. We’re going to a cool little independent bookstore on Prince St. (McNally Jackson) and then over to an Indian food restaurant he loves, for dosas. It’s been such a warm and dry winter, it doesn’t feel like January at all — but I’m not complaining, especially for this evening, as we tramp around that great little neighborhood. One truly wonderful thing about all three of my kids is that we share a love of words and books. It manifests itself differently in the three of them, but I do share something special with each one of them around books, and that makes me happier than you can imagine. I like to think it’s my gift to them.

* * *

Here’s the next writing prompt — a 600-word story (a narrative describing a shared experience) told from the “we” perspective. No first person pronouns allowed! My first thought was to put the couple in therapy and have them telling competing narratives about something, but I got this idea and ran with it instead. It’s a piece of fiction, again, but again it uses bits of real experience for texture. My husband and I did go to Luang Prabang, which means the details of place are true, but the rest is entirely made up:

We woke up very early that morning because we wanted to witness the monks’ morning alms ritual; since we were staying at a hotel on the other side of the Mekong River, we had to get up early enough to walk across that long scary bridge – remember, honey? – and it made us nervous because of the traffic, especially in the dark. We felt so exhausted when the alarm went off, but we both knew how much you wanted to see it so off we went.

Right – it really wasn’t the kind of thing you like to do sugar plum, you’d rather visit the markets and the food stalls, but you were such a good sport about it. We just had no idea how it was going to turn out, did we? We thought we’d go to the main street, kneel at the curb, and watch the Lao women putting little clumps of rice in each of the monks’ baskets, and then get some breakfast on the way back to our hotel – remember how much we loved the breakfast at that one place? But it didn’t turn out like that at all. And you’re usually such a quiet guy, avoiding trouble. Sure, you’ll speak up if you feel you’re getting ripped off, but you never get involved in violence. You just never do that.

So there we were, walking across that bridge, in the dark. Remember how there weren’t any lights of any kind? Not even headlights, since cars weren’t allowed on the bridge? And remember how tiny the walkway was for pedestrians, with broken boards and loose nails? And how quiet the morning was – we heard the river, the cyclists passing on the bridge, the early morning fishermen, and the birds? You were commenting on the birds just as we left the bridge and crossed onto the sidewalk. We had to stop because your long skirt got caught in the clasp of your sandal, and you were kneeling down to untangle it. We were both a little bit on edge – do you remember why, now? It’s hard to imagine why we felt so unsettled, in Luang Prabang. We’d had such a great time, and felt safer there than anywhere else we’d been in Southeast Asia. Maybe it was just the very early hour, combined with the darkness that we’re not used to, since we’re from Manhattan where it’s never dark. Maybe we were just kind of punchy from exhaustion.

Well sugar, you say “we” were punchy, but “we” weren’t really punchy – you were. Remember?

You’re right – you were singing and laughing and commenting on how beautiful the river was in the dark, and how many stars you saw. OK, “we” weren’t punchy, point taken. But we were both a little anxious in the utter darkness, that’s definitely true. And neither of us expected someone to grab you – you have to agree with that!

No, we certainly never expected something like that to happen, that’s true.  Did you see him coming?

No, remember how we were both bending over – you were squatting – trying to get your skirt free? The guy just came out of nowhere, it seemed, and leaned over you, saying something we couldn’t understand.

You did overreact just a little bit honey, you have to admit. If it hadn’t been so dark we might’ve noticed that he was wearing orange robes, and had shaved his head. You didn’t have to punch the poor guy, he was just offering to help us! Granted, it was dark and you were trying to protect me, but come on. You punched a monk.

1540 yards of fingering weight -- for the perfect sweater if only I could remember

I know it wasn’t a pattern I’d made before, and I think it was a cardigan. I think I actually wrote it down on a little notepad file but didn’t save it. Curses! Foiled again! Dadgummit! If you have a favorite cardigan knit with fingering, please let me know!

It’s c.o.l.d here this morning; it’s risen to 14 degrees and heading up to 29. Perhaps its because of my flu, but I just cannot get warm. I’m wearing a long-sleeved thin undershirt, a turtleneck, a cardigan, and a fleece jacket on top of it all, and I have a scarf around my neck and thick socks on my feet. I’m covered with a hand-knit blanket, and another blanket, and I’m still cold. I had a big bowl of very hot oatmeal and cups of steaming tea, and I’m still cold. I think the flu must be ramping up the chill.

On that shivery note, back under the covers for me. Don’t forget to suggest sweater patterns if you have a fave! Stay well y’all.

This weekend I did a lot of knitting, as I mentioned, and just shared the pictures with Marnie so I thought I’d put them here, too. This is the Ambergris sweater designed by Ann Weaver, which she [obviously] based on Moby Dick:

here's the front -- see how the design elements extend down into the ribbing?

close-up view of the flukes and ropes -- i really love both those elements

the side seam, a kind of whalebone inset

It’s great fun to knit, but it requires attention because there’s a lot going on at once — several charts, shaping, and the addition of a side chart in one small section (not shown here). I made a large Excel spreadsheet — oh how I love Excel spreadsheets — plotting out each row on the whole body. It makes it much simpler and so far I haven’t needed to frog anything….good, because the yarn is sticky and has long alpaca fibers here and there, which would make frogging a slow process. I’m really enjoying working on it, and love to imagine Marnie wearing it. The pleasures of knitting something special for someone you love, when they’ve had a part in the project so you know they’ll enjoy it.

*cough* *shiver* Back under the covers for me. Happy knitting, y’all.

Last night we went to the Concert for Peace at St John the Divine. The primary reason I wanted to go was that Judy Collins was on the program, and I’ve loved her beautiful voice since I first encountered it back in 1978. She’s had quite a difficult life, losing her son to drug addiction and suicide, and anyone whose child commits suicide awes me with their strength and courage to go on. When we walked the block and a half to the cathedral, I was struck anew by how dazzling it is that I live so close to such a place; imagine if I lived a block away from Notre Dame de Paris, or the stunning cathedral at Chartres. If I lived so close, and could walk over there on a whim….but I do live so close to a similarly-magnificent place, even if it doesn’t have the same kind of history.

the always-gorgeous St John the Divine

It was beautifully decorated, and packed with people. The concert started at 7 and we left our apartment at 6:30 for the 5-minute walk; by the time we arrived, the only empty seats were in the very back rows. I took the shot above relatively close to the front, in the paid section — $60/ticket. We were there for the free seats, and from where we sat in the very back, we couldn’t see anything at all but there were giant speakers placed in our back section so we’d be able to hear. And THEN this woman standing in the aisle next to us asked if we’d like to take two extra ticketed seats she had, because her friends didn’t show up. Why yes please, we’d love to do that. So we sat in the 5th row from the performers. Unbelievable. Unfortunately, our seats were in the middle of the row, so if we wanted to leave we really couldn’t — and I’d have wanted to leave. Ah well.

Judy Collins and Jessye Norman, a couple of feet from me. Judy was performing, Jessye was just there like the rest of us lucky schlubs, to listen.

After opening remarks by the Dean of the Cathedral, Harry Smith spoke briefly, and then introduced Judy Collins. She talked for a bit, sang a bit of a song she’d written after attending Duke Ellington’s funeral there at the cathedral, and then launched into an a capella version of Both Sides Now. She sounded absolutely amazing, but she started wandering around with the lyrics; in the second stanza, she was just pulling lines randomly from different stanzas and I saw this fleeting expression on her face where she realized she was off, but she plowed forward anyway. That stanza didn’t make sense and it didn’t rhyme, but it didn’t matter. She sang the rest perfectly, and I cried, a lot. Her sweet quavery voice, lifting and breaking so high, reaching the notes….the lyrics themselves….it was just lovely.

there she stood, singing clear-voiced and beautifully

We came home and had a beautiful meal my husband made, tandoori chicken, and chicken with green curry. Broccoli in curry and ginger. Rice. It was mouthwatering, mouth-stinging, and oh-so-good. Just before midnight we walked down to Riverside Drive, which is always surprisingly empty at midnight on New Year’s Eve, and stood in the middle of the street and kissed each other. Here’s to a new and improved year, with hope for something especially good to happen to my husband.

If you’re from the south, I know you’re eating something with blackeyed peas today, for good luck. I made sure that the first thing I put in my mouth this morning was sweet, so sweet things would come out of my mouth this year. And I’ve paid attention to what I’ve been doing today, because whatever you do on New Year’s Day is what you’ll do a lot of in the coming year. So I cooked and knitted:

two blueberry cobblers ready to pop into the oven, for my husband -- Pioneer Woman's blackberry cobbler recipe, quite luscious and simple!

eaten with tortilla chips, Texas Caviar so good it'll make you slap your mama

getting going! got marnie's measurements, so i'm knitting away; 8 more rows to the waist shaping!

button bands and icord edging done -- one sleeve underway!

I imagine we’ll take a walk on this beautiful sunny day — it’s 51 degrees, very unwinter-like! I hope the first day of your new year is as happy and lovely as mine, filled with great food and enjoyable activities, and someone to love. What else do you need.

so beautiful -- this is what the back of the sweater will look like, since it's the only area that's not cabled in some way

and here's one of the cable swatches; it's very neat, the way the rope emerges.

I’m actually a little bit afraid of knitting this sweater, just as I was afraid to read Moby Dick (which is the craziest idea in the whole world…really? afraid to read a book?). Just as with the book, I’m afraid it’s beyond me, too complicated for my feeble mind to manage. With the sweater, there are multiple patterns and cables going on simultaneously plus shaping. It’s knit in the round, bottom-up, and splits at the arms. So all the busy business happens simultaneously, and since I knit at night, while watching tv with my husband, when I’m kind of tired, well…..I worry. But I want to do it perfectly, so I’m just going to take my time, take each row for itself and make it right, and it’ll all work out. And perhaps I’ll love the FO as much as I love the book. Probably not, but maybe.

Here’s a funny thing about Christmas songs I found on the NPR music page. I especially love #6, though they’re all funny.

so funny!

Tonight’s the Winter Solstice Concert at St John the Divine, and if I love it half as much as I did last year, it’ll be overwhelming. Happy Friday, y’all! I hope you’re able to enjoy the holiday season and not feel too stressed.

p.s. OH — one more. There are a couple of Ryan Gosling tumblrs, and this is my favorite picture so far:

hey girl.

So when I saw this sweater of course I thought immediately of Marnie:

Ambergris, designed by Ann Weaver

Those whale flukes up the center, the beautiful knots and ropes up the sides, it’s Moby Dick in wool. I have been wanting to knit sweaters for someone other than myself, but Katie lives in Texas and I wasn’t sure Marnie would want one; inspired by this sweater, I sent her the picture this morning, hoping she’d like it. A few emails very quickly exchanged later, and the yarn is on its way and I own the pattern. I’ll be using Valley Yarns Northfield, in charcoal:

Valley Yarns Northfield, in charcoal -- the color of the depths!

I’ll be loathe to set Audrey aside, but so very eager to make this sweater, and for Marnie, I won’t mind a bit. It should be loads of fun to make; I’m changing the neck, to give her a slouchy turtleneck instead of the kind of odd neck it currently has. I can’t wait!! If it’s as great as it seems, I may have to make one for myself, too. I loved Moby Dick so much, it nearly ruined me for reading anything else because nothing compares.

Just sharing my intense enthusiasm……knitters, I know you know what this is like.

So the only Christmas knitting I’m doing (for her, it would actually be Hanukkah knitting!) is a pair of socks for Anna. She’s still a college student, so I have to use superwash yarn that’s tough enough to withstand college machines; this is KnitPicks Stroll Tonal (golden yellow), and it’s the Kai-Mei pattern by Cookie A, which I knit once before. I’m telling you, it’s an absolute blast to knit, and how often do you end up with socks that have a right sock and a left sock?

i really ADORE this pattern

I finished the first sock in a day and a half, and I’ll cast on the second sock tonight. When I finish it, I’ll get back to my beautiful Audrey in Silt.

Happy Wednesday y’all, and if you’re in NYC, stay dry! I have to be out and about all afternoon, and am starting to hate the weather gods, who give us reliably rainy weather on Wednesdays. Come on. Shift it over a day to Tuesdays or Thursdays, at least once in a while.

such great texture in that front panel

red in the sweater's hem, and in the sleeve hems, too! surprise!

really such a comfortable sweater to wear.

This is my first sweater knit in pieces, and the first time I’ve used Cascade 220 for a sweater. I’ll do both again, for sure.

Here’s my project page on ravelry, where I note a lot of details. And this leads me to a mini-rant, now that I think about it. I wish people would indicate the size they knit, and how much yarn they used! It’s also nice if they list mods, or problems they encountered, and I love to read notes about how the yarn wears with time. But at a minimum, I wish everyone would list the size they knit and how much yarn they used. This isn’t about comparing (ooh, she’s a 42!!), it’s about knowing how it’ll look in your size, and how much yarn you really need for that size. Good grief.

And with this, I suspect my long run of knitting posts will slow down. Though I’m nearly done with the deep ribbing on Audrey……

Have a wonderful Saturday, everyone!

[for instance:  next week I have my annual mammogram Monday and my book club holiday party Thursday, but the week after is chock-full of good stuff, including a winter concert Sunday, poetry group Tuesday, Selected Shorts performance Wednesday, the annual Winter Solstice Concert Friday, and the Nutcracker at Lincoln Center on Saturday. WHEE squared!]

For now, though, a bit o’knitting. My Laurayana is all seamed on one side, waiting for the 2nd sleeve to dry so I can sew it in. It’s a gorgeous fit — of course I tried it on, closing the open side with pins. I’m exhibiting great restraint by waiting for it to be all the way finished before showing you. I really do recommend the pattern; FO post and photos tomorrow!

Audrey is now on the needles:

a lovely bit of knitting time this morning, with my tea

That’s madelinetosh pashmina, in siltwash, which is a really beautiful brown with bits of caramel and olive. I’m enjoying the yarn, after the rougher Cascade 220. I decided not to do twisted rib for the hem, so I’m plowing ahead.

My mug has sheep on it, one of which is glazed black. I bought this mug in Fredericksburg, VA, in 1988 — it was perfect for me. Sheep. Yeah. Black sheep, me. Yeah. I moved it around, place to place, year after year. In 2004, a bunch of my stuff was in storage for a while and I hadn’t seen my mug but assumed it was just boxed up. When I moved in with my (now) husband, I opened the cabinet for a mug and there it was! I was a little bit confused, but said “Ah! There’s my mug!” He said what do you mean, that’s my mug. And it was his mug; mine had a crack at the top of the handle. What are the odds that he had the same mug (and to this day I have no idea why he’d have such a mug, he’s no sheep person!).

It’s going to be a cold weekend, high of 46 tomorrow, but no rain or snow so I plan to get out and do something. Sunday night I have an art date night with myself — either painting, writing, or making something, not quite sure what. I hope your weekend plans are as exciting to you as mine are to me! Happy Friday, y’all.