six years and 455 posts

This week is my blogiversary.  My sixth. Pretty funny to go back to my first posts. Turns out I was talking about casting on a sweater for Dave,  I hadn't knit one for him in a while. Guess what ? The more things change, the more they stay the same. I'm still trying to get a sweater done for him. That's the yarn up above.

 

Only this year it's almost finished.

Each winter since 2005 I started a sweater for Dave, and each year it was abandoned by March and then frogged the following fall. This one was no exception; last winter I started a cabley manly sweater, only to find myself never wanting to pay the kind of attention it required to get the cables and textures right. This November I frogged the 12" completed and  cast on for a nice simple Cobblestone in the blue yarn. All was going smoothly.

Until I ran into these adorable indie dyers at Rhinebeck

 

Amy of Spunky Eclectic, David of Southern Cross Fibre and Adrian of Hello Yarn. 

and I knew I needed something hand dyed in the mix.  Actually I was coveting their hand dyed and handspun yarn. Is it not to love? Since I was conveniently at Rhinebeck , I picked up a skein from Potosi Sheep Farm to mix in the Cobblestone yoke. It should be finished, that's right,  finished, this weekend. 

When I started this blog I told no one. I thought it was kind of dorky and narcissistic. (Turns out it is kinda dorky and narcissistic but, well, whatever!)  I even purposefully used small photos shot with a crappy point & shoot,  to keep the blog separate from my professional work. Once I got over myself and mashed up the commercial and editorial work and the knitting world,  did a couple of books of the yarny nature, it all gelled pretty well.  

Which is a huge understatement, what I really mean is I have met (virtually and in real life, too)  more smart and funny and warm and interesting , not to mention talented and creative and thoroughly inspiring people because of this blog, I feel so lucky . Not to mention, it keeps me  from talking myself silly about knitting to an under- appreciative audience here at Testosterone Central home.

I could end with an artful photo of  delicate ice covered marsh grass, or snow on the beach against a steely sky but I'm really really really weary of seeing snow. How 'bout something juicy? 

 

Pike Place market, Seattle last June