I missed the original frenzy back in June over Pamela Wynne’s resized EZ classic, the February Baby Sweater… now scaled to, as she calls us, “Grown-ass” women. Yet one look at her version and I was hooked. Had to make it, and had to make it now. Despite those nonspecific “other commitments” to which I keep annoyingly mysteriously referring, I had to cast on for it, and did so pretty much as soon as I had printed out the pattern.
But first, a frantic deliberate and painstaking search for the perfect yarn. After perusing the dozens (hundreds?) of beautiful versions on Ravelry, I decided to use a smaller gauge yarn and compensate by making a larger size than I would usually wear. My choice was Classic Elite’s insanely soft Inca Alpaca in a color described on the label only as #1109, but which I prefer to think of as olive flecked with chartreuse. It’s a hard color to find, and one which makes my eyes appear, I’m told, more green than gray. Not a bad thing, IMO.
I haven’t made a huge amount of progress, as you can see. But I keep thinking about it as I work on my other projects, and every once in a while I pause and sneak in a couple more rows just because, you know, I don’t do enough knitting as it is. Poor lighting renders this photo a washed-out rainy-day concrete gray, so you’ll have to trust me on the actual color. When it’s finished, I’ll take some photos with better light so its true subtle delights are properly revealed.
EZ February Lady Sweater
Still only green heirlooms, no eggplant, few tomatillos, and an underwhelming selection of cucumbers and peppers. No complaints about the pears, however, which are ready to pick. I’ve promised the family an upside down caramelized pear tart for dessert this evening (from Patricia Wells’ cookbook
And then, of course, there’s deliciousness of an altogether different variety. I present
and Rubicund, both of which are so gorgeous I practically salivate every time I look at them. Each 2 oz. skein holds 410 yards (375 meters) of the softest, most springy merino I’ve ever felt.
As you can see, I did complete the Hardenburgia Shawl, and if I can get myself a little better organized, I’ll make the pattern available to my loyal readers. All three of them. Here it is again:
Just as I hoped it would, the wave border undulates gracefully, although I did a light spray blocking just to smooth it a bit. The end result is even softer than the pre-knit yarn, and drapes beautifully. And the color is pretty accurate in these photos, exactly the bluish purple of the hardenburgia blossoms that scramble up the side fence.
On the other hand, once the edging is in place if I don’t like the looks of it, I can always go back and block the whole thing again. That’s the beauty of blocking, right? And now for the money shot:
I’ve also been spending valuable knitting minutes here and there in the garden, dead-heading roses and weeding. Picking a few veggies but not nearly as many as I expected by this point in the summer. It has been unseasonably cool by East Bay standards; a few hot spells but many more days that simply don’t get hot enough for the tomatoes to ripen. Only the squash like this weather, and tomorrow I will be stuffing a great slew of them with a blend of ricotta, thyme from the garden, sauteed onion, and parmesan… a little variety from the grilling that is my usual fallback. There are always flowers, however, like these:
In addition, both the color of this Mas Acero silk/wool/viscose blend yarn from
The short-rowing technique created rippled beginnings and bind-off edges of these blocks that did not want to go together without a fight, despite ruthless blocking. The strips I made as an experimental alternative, in one long piece rather than in blocks, were much simpler to assemble. I’d like to make another one all out of the strips, and not have to mess with stitching the individual blocks together end-to-end. As is, this one appears rather cobbled together because of my experimentation, but I think my darling girl will love it just the same.
Say hello to the “Tinker Bell” dwarf agapanthus, with those smashing variegated leaves. I bought two, divided them into four plants, and interspersed them among the other agapanthus along the front walk where they unquestionably rule this part of the summer.
Seriously, he stood on his rock enjoying the sun (now I know I was a lizard in a former life!) and never flinched as I crept closer and closer with camera in hand.
Manos del Uruguay Silk Blend, 30% Silk, 70% Merino Extrafine Wool. Colorway 3113, in every luscious shade of spring imaginable. A subtle sheen to the fiber. Lovely. Makes me happy just to look at it. See what I mean?
I love the coral-bark maple, which especially in summer reveals its elegant color contrast. Something about that chartreuse and coral color combination sends a thrill up my spine every time I see it. It pops, it sizzles… it just gets me.
So close to edibility… the first Satsuma plums from the new tree. As luscious as they look now, only when they turn deep purple will they be ready to pluck.
So close to sinking my teeth into pure homegrown goodness… Black mission figs from the Central Valley are flooding our grocery stores already, but mine are late bloomers. I’ll look forward to eating the first of these in late August if I’m lucky. But every day throughout September, I’ll pick a handful to sweeten my yogurt at lunch time.
So close… But not close enough.
And a half dozen of these banana peppers:
to have with our dinner. Mm-mmm. They were delicious!
That is, if the smoke ever dissipates from Northern California’s terrible fires. I begged off meeting a friend to walk this morning because, when I went outside early to pick up the newspapers, the smell of smoke hung in the air like cheap aftershave splashed on by a heavy-handed teenage boy hoping to impress his favorite girl. I didn’t spend ten years taking asthma meds for nothing. No power walk for me.
Sometimes, pink is very good. And sometimes, it’s just pristine.
Morello and Black Cherry Jam with Kirsch
After a pallid and truthfully rather blah beginning, the hydrangeas have blued up nicely, quelling my fears of insufficient nitrogen in the soil. Against the backdrop of white climbing roses (shown in earlier posts), their blue intensifies dramatically.
Up front, clusters of transplanted agapanthus have finally settled in, going in short order from this pod which strangely reminds me of one of the Seven Dwarves (must be the rakish angle of the little peaked cap):
to this:
And finally, the asters are in full bloom, swarming with bees (no colony collapse in my neck of the woods, as far as I can tell). Not exactly blue, these are the cousins I mentioned above.