Dear friend,

There hasn't been much knitting going on around these parts lately, I am sad to say. It's just so difficult when what you require for a cozy afternoon of knitting are smoky skies, kettles of tea, pots of chocolate, peppermint marshmallows, and campfire weather. Your needles all in a row. Yarn properly sorted in the basket. And perhaps a purple, snow-capped mountain or two looming in the distance. Is that too much to ask? 

I'm expecting to lose all interest in this pastime come April, when the daffodils surface along with my sewing machine for sherbert-colored batiste dresses and summer quilts.

I mean, let's be honest, I'm now actually baffled by this weather, even for Tennessee, who I thought for sure could throw me no new red herrings. It reminds me of our first winter here...Manley and I were renting the oldest, most charming home that was literally falling apart. We moved here that October, anxious for a "real winter" (those of you who live above the Mason-Dixon line, I KNOW you are chuckling right now). Manley was so excited he practically fell asleep each night with his face pressed against the windowpane, lulled to sleep by the promise of snow that just never came. No snow in December. January: nothing. 

And then one mid-February morning, we woke up to a strange and muffled silence. I had made these and hung them in our kitchen window, right above the ancient and ginormous ceramic tub sink we used to scrub with baking soda, and that morning the light streaming through them was brilliant.  And there it was, a blanket of snow. More like a duvet, really. It was a full-blown frenzy after that. Our one white Christmas was dreamy too, but I think I'd even trade it for a snowy Valentine's day. All those hearts in all that white. I don't know if we'll have that this year.

But until then, what I do have is this hat, which I finished yesterday and is Ravelry-ied here. This lady sent me this yarn, and I fell fast in love. It is SOOOO soft, almost velvety, and seems to hold its shape a little better than the Malabrigo I've been so enamored by.

New things I learned while knitting this hat:

1. Making a pom-pom with cardboard circles. I vaguely remember doing something similar to this in the third grade, but I don't remember it feeling like such a revelation!

2. Stranded colorwork. And, at the end, stranded colorwork with four double-pointed-needles. Scary.

3. Continental-style knitting, for the contrasting color. I feel so cultured now!

  

So, I'm learning slowly, but next winter I will be prepared. Now I'm afraid it's time for me to make a pot of coffee and settle in for a long afternoon of painting. You know what they say, man can not live by knitting alone. Or...something like that. 

Love,

Rebekka