Dear Luis

Dear Luis,

I know you're too little to know it, but you're sort of a big deal around here.  Not only are you one of the worlds most wanted and celebrated babies, you're also going to go down in history as the only baby I've ever loved who got born before their blanket was finished.

Yesterday when I finally brought it to your mum and dad and they put it around you, I felt a profound sense of relief.  Your mum looked so pretty, and like she was finally feeling better, and she said that she hoped that the circus the two of you have been through for the last few weeks was over, and I said that I thought it was.  I told her that I thought she'd run out of trouble.  That there was just nothing else left for her to navigate,  and that I really believed now everything would be smooth sailing.

My small friend, the truth is that in my heart, I had started to believe that nothing could go right for the two of you until I'd handed over that talisman, and that on some level, the blanket was more essential than I had thought.  Those are probably the crazy thoughts of a superstitious auntie, but I just got it into my head that maybe the hours of love in these blankets are somehow protective. A shield of sorts.  A symbol of how loved and wanted and unique you are in our world, and how grateful we are to your parents for bringing you here, and how everyone in this family is here for you, and intends to stand between you and trouble for every day of the rest of your life... as much as we are able.

I started thinking, as I was rushing to finish, that maybe this whack of trouble was the result of that blanket not being in place.  That maybe once I had you wrapped in that thing, it would be a sign to the universe that you have an army of love around you, and that anything that wants to mess with you has to go through us first.  I hope that's how it works, because that's what that blanket means.

Like you, your blanket is one of a kind. 

There's Madeira Lace on the border, because your dad Carlos is Spanish.  There's snowflakes because your mum Katie is Canadian, and there's the old tree of life motif there too, because those two things have come together to start a whole new family. (You'll learn that I'm big on symbolism - it makes me killer help for high school English essays.  Remember that.)

The blanket is big, and I thought it was bigger than I wanted it to be, but now that I think about you and how you've arrived and the impact you've had - I don't think that it could be one centimeter smaller to do you justice.

Like you, this blanket looks delicate, but is strong.

I was thinking that maybe a ginormous swath of white lace wasn't really a baby boy thing, but I realized that it makes total sense, since somehow this blanket is as much for your mum as it is for you.  Your father loves you to distraction, and is entirely devoted to you - any fool can see that, but I think your dad would be the first person to stand up and say that what your mum has been through and done for your little family in that last few weeks was brave, and she's bloody fierce, and your arrival has only made her more strong and beautiful. 
It almost seems silly that all I'm giving the three of you is a blanket.

Welcome.  Be safe. Be warm.

love,

Auntie Steph

(PS. When you're ready, I'll teach you to knit.)

For Want of A Little

This blanket might be the death of me. Yesterday I was so full of hope, I even imagined (briefly) knitting other things.  Maybe a sweater, finish some socks.  I bought the latest knitting magazines and the world of possibility stretched before me.  I might knit something red I thought.  Or blue.  Or Green - anything except for the eternal white that's stretched out for so long.  I felt sure that it was all going to work out.  I'd have enough yarn, I'd apply myself, maybe stay up all night and just get it done.

I'm not done.  I knit the snot out of it and it's still not done, and I think I can say with confidence now that there's not going to be enough yarn.  I weighed the ball and it was 19g.  Then I worked one repeat, and weighed again.  16g - so that tells me that each repeat takes about 3 grams. Then I counted the repeats left - which was a rather heartbreaking 16.  If each repeat takes three grams, then I need 48 grams, not  16 - and that means it's back to the store for me. 
Just to be sure, I actually weighed my swatches, thinking maybe I could ravel them and get the extra yardage there. No dice.

Even if I use the swatches, I still need 19 grams, and as I realized I was going to be going to the store for so little, I was suddenly demoralized.  I can't go to the store today because I have to drive aways, and while I'm driving I won't be knitting or yarn shopping, and so that means that even though tonight is prime knitting time and I could finish this bad boy? I won't be able to. 

I was sitting here trying to fetch the yarn with the power of my mind when the phone rang.  It was the lovely and charming Rachel H, on her way to the yarn shop close to her work, and she asked me if I wanted her to score a ball, and maybe drop it in my mailbox so it would be there when I got home?

I almost fell over.  It was a miracle.  It was actually like I was sitting there just wishing the yarn would appear today, and there's Rachel H solving the whole problem.  I gratefully accepted, and made a mental note get her a little present, or kiss her full on the mouth or something.  Relieved, I started packing up to leave, thinking about how happy I am, and about how great it is that that little problem evaporated totally, and about how tomorrow I'll knit something that isn't white while the blanket blocks.  Rachel H is totally the kind of person who texts you pictures of yarn from the store, so a minute later when my phone went off, I expected a picture of the yarn and a very Rachel-esque text message like "VICTORY IS MINE" or "SHE SHOOTS, SHE SCORES!!" Instead?

"They don't have it."

This, clearly is a crushing defeat.  That store was my whole backup plan. That's where I was going to go in the morning, and now they don't have it and I'm going to have to start calling around, and I'm absolutely sure I'll find some,  for the love of wool, I'm sure one of you has 19 grams of it, but whatever I do now, it's going to take me a bit to get it, and that brings me to my next great idea.

We should be able to fax yarn. At least small quantities.  No reason humanity can't work that out.

(PS. Because you're all going to ask now, the yarn is Lanett superwash baby yarn, in colour 1001, lot number 713636, although I don't think lot matters much. If you see a ball of it somewhere near Toronto, let me know. I'll go get it until we have the fax thing worked out.)

Ekeing

This blanket can be finished.   I believe that now.  I've been knitting like a demon on it, and after putting in some solid work, I think the end is in sight. The problem now is that the end of the yarn is in sight as well.  It's looming actually, the little half ball remaining to me sitting there and looking leaner with every repeat.  Last night at knit night someone looked at how much I had to go, and how much yarn I had left and gave me a worried glance.  "Do you have a plan for what you'll do if you run out?" they asked tactfully. 

"Do you have a plan for what you'll do if you run out" is knitterese for "You're never going to make it - you see that don't you?" and I've been friends with knitters for long enough to make the translation straight away.  I mumbled something about how I'd had two balls, and the first ball did half so the second ball should do the other half - but in the back of my mind, I wasn't really worried.  I was convinced that somewhere in this house there was another ball of that yarn. When I got more, I'd put the old lot of yarn into one bag, and the new in the other, and set aside three balls to do the edging, because I wanted to use all one lot for that. I've used one, I'm knitting the second, so upstairs should by my ball remaining.

I just trotted myself upstairs to dive into the little paper bag sitting in the stash room that held the insurance ball, and it's not there. Odd, I thought, but things have been a little hairy here, so I checked another couple of likely places.  Then I checked some unlikely places, and now I've been checking really super unlikely places and it's stopped being "checking" and is now right on the edge of  just ripping the house up - and that ball isn't here. It's nowhere. I thought maybe I left it in the Dominican - but I know I didn't.  I remember putting it really carefully in my suitcase, because the blanket was too important to screw up.  Same thing for when I was at Madrona, and besides it stands to reason that if I had it at Madrona, I couldn't have left it in the Dominican.  I know it was here, I know it was. I'm absolutely positive - and now it's just gone, which is making me a total crazy person.

It really isn't that big a deal.  If I run out tonight, I know where to get more, and it's not a big trip and it can be easily handled.  It won't even put off finishing the blanket by much, it's just that I feel like I need an explanation for where it has gone.  It can't have disappeared.  It has to be here somewhere. I know that I haven't had a lot of sleep since I got home, and I've been all over the place, but I'm just not the kind of person who misplaces something as important as this yarn - and that means it's somewhere, or something happened, and try as I might to just sit down and knit, I keep thinking of another place it could be - or another thing that might have happened.  I'm so disturbed by it that a few minutes ago I checked the fridge and a suitcase I haven't used in two years. I've spent more time looking for it than it would have taken to get on the streetcar and get more, and that means I have to let it go.

There's one explanation that makes sense, and for the sake of my sanity, I've decided to accept it.  This blanket is now so big, and has so much yarn in it, and it's been run in at such a great rate of speed over the last few days, that the blanket is now working like a yarn siphon, or a black hole.  It now has so much yarn mass squeezed into one spot that it has started generating its own gravity, and because like attracts like, out of all the balls of yarn in this house, the blanket has already reached out on a molecular level to the stash room, and sucked in the ball that I was going to feed it.

It's that or I lost it, but in all seriousness I think the black hole is more likely.

Continually and Constantly

When I finished Marlowe's baby blanket, and it was rather surprisingly the breadth of a queen sized bed (which is rather inappropriately larger than a baby) I was happy, but decided that next time I went down the baby blanket road, I might practice a little more restraint. 

This time I really thought I'd done that, but here I am days late on this blanket, wondering more than a little absently why it's taking so long, and while I can't say yet for sure,  I think this might be another overshoot- size wise. Oh sure,  I could spread it out a little and assess it, but I feel like there's no point in knowing exactly how much there is left to do when I have to do it anyway.  It might be demoralizing.  It makes more sense to me to just keep knitting and let it be a surprise, even to me - which it totally will be, because I get up every day and think "This will absolutely be finished today" and then by the time bedtime rolls around I'm looking at it and thinking that it seems to have no end.  None.  It's perpetual, and worse than that?  I don't think I'm even making a dent in it.  That means one of three things. 
Either it's a really big blanket, I've become a really slow knitter, or I've been so busy that I'm not really knitting that much on it, I just think I am.  
This blanket needs to end, if not because I think it's just about got me ready to weep at the sight of it, but because Luis really needs it.  (Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.  I think his actual position may be neutral.)  I'm going to bust a serious move in its direction today and tonight.  Surely I'm almost there.

PS: The fact that I bought lots of yarn for it and still ran out isn't a good sign.

PPS: When I ran out I got four more balls and they're almost gone too. That's not good either. 

PPPS: Yesterday when I invited you to Sock Camp, I forgot to tell you one thing. There's a contest.  Every year there's a camp tee shirt, and this year we thought it would be fun to have a contest to design it.  The prize is a tee shirt, your design on all the camp shirts and $100 of yarn - and you don't have to be going to camp to enter.  Anybody can.  Rules?  Not many.

1. It has to do with the theme.  The theme is pirates. It’s called Camp Cast Away.
2. It has to say "BMFA Sock Camp 2012" somewhere on it.
3. The design can go on the front or back.
4. Anyone can enter, even if they’re not a camper.

Besides those 4 rules, the shirt design can be anything you like. Just words, words and a picture, words and a drawing, just a drawing, whatever pleases you. Go nuts.

The winner gets glory (their design on all the camp shirts) a camp shirt (whether or not the winner is a camper) and a $100.00 gift certificate for Blue Moon Fiber Arts.  Please email us your entry as a jpeg (You can send a low resolution version, we’ll ask finalists for the high resolution ones so we can see if they’re okay for printing) before March 10th.  You can send it to registrationATknothysteriaDOTcom (Replace the AT and DOT with @ and .) We’ll choose some finalists, put them up on The Blue Moon Blog, everyone will vote before March 12th, and then the winner will be announced on March 14th.

Go!  I'll be here knitting a blanket.