I have to say that there's a delightful sense of power in re-discovering how to work the comment delete option. (Don't worry your attractive and intellect-filled heads, regular readers, it wasn't one of yours: I received a comment from one "s*bc*mm*nd*t* b*b" (asterisks hopefully an attempt to avoid him or his readers re-finding this place) that was essentially unrelated to the post on which it was placed, and which was comment spam advertising a blog that sounded like the sort of ranty and politicized fantasy worlds that some bloggers generate for themselves.)

(If this chap is a friend of yours, I apologize, but I really don't want him posting links on my blog.)

or, another way of explaining it: Dear sir, I do not accept paid advertising on my blog, what makes you think I will allow you to advertise for free?

(Perhaps I should work up a rate-schedule and e-mail it back to anyone who spam comments me? Suggesting that if they wish to append comments with links to their blogs, they may do that upon my receipt (and successful cashing) of a check for $100?

Or then again, perhaps not, as that would probably lead to the sort of behavior of which I do not wish to be a part. Better to simply hit the little trashcan button and let Oscar have the comment.)


On to happier things. I finished a long-term project.

This is the green "Verona" shawl, from laceweight Morehouse Merino yarn. This had been on the needles since May (and essentially finished since October; I couldn't quite bring myself to NOT use up the last little bit of the last skein, and I kept telling myself I'd knit it up the rest of the way, and then bind off. But I decided to finish it yesterday because: 1. It was long enough and didn't need to be longer. 2. I will eventually need the services of all three of my size 9 circular needles in doing the edging on the Bergamo Cache-Coeur. As I've started the left front, it won't be that much longer).



For some reason I rather like this picture of myself. I'm quite unphotogenic, normally, and tend to wince at pictures of myself, but there's something about my pose and expression in this picture that pleases (and slightly amuses) me. (Maybe because it's vaguely reminiscent of a picture I have of my father's mother's mother, whom I am told I "favor." Or maybe because it shows me in a mindset like the one I have in my [discredited after learning the real family history] fantasy of being descended from minor Irish aristocracy. It's a very Lady Glencora Palliser sort of expression, I think. Not that Lady Glencora is particularly a character I'd want to emulate.)

And here's the back of the shawl, in the Cheryl Oberle style shot:



I like the finished product; I know there are some people out there who aren't fans of Morehouse yarns - the usual complaints I've seen are "too much vegetable matter mixed in with the yarn" (to me, that is proof that it is "real," that it came off the back of a sheep that actually grazed and hung out in straw-filled stalls) or "too unevenly spun" (I guess I'm willing to forgive the thick-and-thin places - of which there really weren't many - in the name of wabi-sabi, that sense that the handmade will be imperfect).

The yarn really comes to life upon blocking though - when wet it is suprisingly supple and easily stretched into a larger form than it originally had. And the unevenness of the knitting settles out, and the stockinette stitch opens up, and it becomes drapey and lovely and something very different from what it was before blocking. I am sure part of this is the result of a laceweight yarn being worked on size 9 needles, but I think also the fact that it is a pure wool yarn - and merino at that - and that it's not overly processed, contribute to its surprising transformation.

Alas, it was too cold out to wear it to church; I had to substitute a fluffy (and warmer) mohair shawl instead; I think the Morehouse shawl will be more for wearing over the short sleeves of my little summer dresses (I have one in mind it will look particularly nice over) on cool evenings in the spring or early fall.

I'm also almost done with my clone of Mr. Dangly; a picture might come later tonight.

(This burst of Sunday posting is brought on by the fact that I am squiring around a guest speaker tomorrow and will be involved with making her feel welcome on campus).