Archives for posts with tag: wine

When someone asks you where you were this weekend and you respond: “A sheep and wool festival in New York”, they will most likely look at you like you are from another planet.  Unless of course they are knitters/crafters/fiber lovers.  You know what I love the most about Rhinebeck was that you were surrounded by the warmest (quite literally) people on the planet that love what you love and totally get why you flew all the way from the other coast to pet sheep and fondle the sweaters of strangers.

The weekend at Rhinebeck was absolutely wonderful!  I was so excited to finally meet Holly in person and get my knit on with her and she is ever so sweet and amazing in person as I thought she would be.

I’m not sure what I was expecting with the festival, but it far exceeded anything I could have ever imagined.  Of course it was beautiful and everyone was wearing such amazing works of art and the sheep and alpacas stole my heart over and over again.

I bought a couple of things, but no yarn (I know, that’s absolutely crazy): a yarn bowl and some buttons made from sheep horn.

I awkwardly approached Ysolda and probably annoyed the crap out of her with my terrible fan-girl stutter.  I took a nip with Steven.  I knitted, I laughed, I ate good food and met some really great people.

This weekend, however, didn’t go without an accident, because it’s me and I’m accident-prone apparently and the world enjoys laughing at my sorry ass.  It’s ok, though because I like laughing at my sorry ass too.

The first morning, I decided I needed coffee, which I never ever drink because caffeine makes me crazy, but I thought it would be a good idea because I’m going to Rhinebeck and needed to have my wits about me.  Also, because I might have possibly stayed up until 3am after flying all day to weave in the ends of my Rhinebeck sweater.  Oh…woops.  Anyways, we’re driving to Rhinebeck and because I’m a coffee noob I don’t get a sleeve for my cup.  Also I can’t find the cupholders in the back seat of the car.  So I’m holding this really hot cup of coffee…until I’m not holding it anymore because I drop the entire thing in my lap.  As the seatbelt pins me down to the seat, the hot liquid soaks through my only pair of jeans (because of course leather seats don’t soak up coffee) and burns my ass while I scream obscenities (possibly deterring Holly from ever wanted to interact with me publicly ever again).  Miraculously, the white sweater that I am wearing, that I finished at 3am the night before, does not get a single drop of brown liquid on it.  My pants are soaked and smell like coffee and I’m pretty sure that a blister has formed on my lower right cheek.

Coffee: 1, Freshy: 0

Later in the day, we purchased a bottle of red wine so we could drink and knit at the tables and make Holly’s gentleman, Jake, feel terribly uncomfortable and sorry that he didn’t bring his knitting.  I’m knitting with white silk, so you can see where this is going…  Along comes a freak gust of wind, knocks my cup (because we’re classy like that) of wine over and onto the pretty white silk.

Red wine: 1, Freshy: 0

Here’s the upside to all of this: My pants were dark, so no one noticed they were wet with coffee and they were dry by midday.  I managed to wash most of the wine out of the silk when we got back to the hotel that night and I don’t think you can tell, but now I have a knotted mess of silk to deal with.  So I give myself 2 points for quick recovery.  That about evens up the score.  And really how upset can you be when you’re hanging out with this guy?

Oh did you notice that I also finished my Naragansett sweater?  That means I owe you two FO posts.  But that will have to wait, because Tales From New York, Part 2 is coming up next…

More Rhinebeck photos can be found here too!

Because sometimes, you need a little bit of excitement to get you pumped for Monday…

Freshy’s Five Step Program: Adding Edging to Lace

  1. Break needle with unrealized kung-fu grip potential.
  2. Stare in shock for at least 3 whole minutes.  Cry if necessary; it’s almost always necessary.
  3. Use any means available to pick up dropped stitches, including (but not limited to): using broken end of needle, using stitch holder, drinking wine, swearing profusely, etc…
  4. Run to the closest LYS and purchase new aluminum needle that is able to withstand person’s inability to handle all things delicate.
  5. Transfer 1380 stitches to new needle.  Cast broken needle away with the other wounded soldier.

Yarn Over »

In case you’re wondering why I haven’t written a knitting post in a while, it’s because this shawl is hijacking my knitting life; I think I die a little bit inside each time I reach over to pick this project up.  I average about one row a night.  ONE! I’m afraid to start another project, for fear of “startitis” and then I’ll never finish it.  I can’t just give up, because I’m so close.  I have a stack of knitting books and patterns, other WIP’s collecting dust, a bookcase full of yarn, and bare needles lined up so neatly just waiting to be used, those filthy whores.  Even with all that temptation, I have to avert my eyes and be a responsible adult!  I have to finish what I start!  I have to conquer this beast to save my pride!

Fuck you, Shawl!

Fuck you, Shawl!

I’m at this point where I just want to bury my head deep into this shawl and just get it over with.  It’s just not fun anymore.  This fucking pattern repeat is so. damn. tedious: k2tog, yo, k2, p2, yo…like a naggy little bitch, on and on and on and freakin’ on over a thousand stitches!  It’s tearing me apart!!  Do you understand?!?  This is a cry for help!

I have dreams that I’m being chased down the dock by giant circular needles.  They tie me up with lace-weight yarn and throw me into the marina and they laugh maniacally.  Captain Hook is there too.  But why?!?!

Someone please slap me with some Malabrigo yarn and US7 needles and wake me up from this hell-hole.  Save me from this monstrosity of a shawl!

Whew…Sorry, that got a little intense.

The good news is that today is Friday and I heard the devil takes Friday off so he can hang out with frat boys.  I have no responsibilities, no plans, and damn it all if I have any distractions.  I’m busting a move on this piece of shit shawl.  I’m going to dance all over its face tonight.  Oh ya, that’s right [enter fierce grunting noises here]….Just me, this shawl, and a bottle of wine.  This shit is ON!

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