This morning when I got up I came downstairs, made coffee (it's the first thing I do...we'll discuss my rather intense dependance on the glorious brown elixir of life another day) and started to make the school lunches. As I did so, I noticed an odd little package sitting on the counter. I opened it, and this was inside.
It's the hand spun, nature dyed wool that my spinning class and I made. The gardener at the farm where we meet collected all the plants for us, and we thought that it would be nice to thank him by knitting him a hat out of the yarn that we made. In some insipid moment of generosity I offered to knit it. I don't know why I did that. In fact, I believe that I mouthed off about how it would be "no big deal" and that it would take so little of my time that it would "fall off me while I was walking". It's sort of a knitters version of your eyes being bigger than your stomach. In any case, I've been avoiding it. I thought that I had hidden this wool rather well...but here it is.
I do wonder who might have snuck into my home, rooted through the interim stash section of the linen closet, found this wool and put it here on the counter. I lifted up the first ball of brown, and discover a small engraved box with a combination lock on it. I suddenly realize that this is no ordinary knitting project.... I look around to make sure that no member of my family has wandered in, take my Code ID from under the laundry basket (nobody would touch the laundry, it's where I hide all my secret identity stuff) and enter my code. The box springs open and displays this message.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to design and knit a fair isle hat prior to tomorrows spinning class. Completed, this hat will encourage further co-operation from the engineer of agriculture, currently using the code name "gardener" and ensure that further fibre transactions between our two agencies are successful. Without this hat, there will be no wool in shades other than cream and brown, an obvious breach of cover. Even more significant than limiting the agencies colour palette, should you fail to complete this hat on time, you will be mocked and belittled by the other agents at "spinning class", who will reveal you as a knitter who is "all talk and no walk", and give you a really hard time about it for an undetermined period.
This message will self-destruct with a smallish explosion in 10 seconds. (Don't throw it in the garbage like you did last time. It was a stupid amateurish mistake)
I'll be busy for the rest of the day I suppose. This will be my first shot at designing Fair Isle, I guess we'll know by this time tomorrow if I'm any good. Don't tell anybody about the secret identity thing eh?
Happy Birthday to Hank (my nephew) and Kamilah (my niece) Here's the Hank man (remember the pink dragon mittens?) enjoying a pick dragon cake that I made for him yesterday. He's wearing a dragon sweater that I knit him, though I broke out of the pink box for that. (He accepted that...I don't think he was thrilled. He didn't buy the "burgundy is just really dark pink" argument). The more clever among you will have begun to sense the dragon theme.
Posted by Stephanie at March 29, 2004 11:09 AM