SEAGRASS CAPELET REVISTED

A sea breeze blows cool blue across the sky while you stand amid the sea grass, surveying the Atlantic. Snug in your capelet, even the chill fingers of the saltiest wind can't reach through to your skin. All around you, mixed textures echo the landscape of tawny moss and heathery tuffs. Snug harbors, safe havens and warm ports defend bare shoulders against both air conditioning and fickle breezes-- that is what a cover up should be in summer time.

Women, defend yourself! Raise those needles, take yarn in hand, and go forth to prevent goosebumps by knitting yourself something gorgeous to fend off the unexpected chills!

Little pearls dot the landscape (included with kit)

Do you remember the Seagrass Capelet? Here it is reborn longer and in a slightly different mix of similiar, but not identical, colors. Kristine from Yarn Stashio knit this version in her yarns, making it close more snuggly against the neck as opposed to the drop shoulder effect I had fashioned in the original. I love this one just as much, if not more. I can see it working right into the fall. What's more, she even has kits for this one -- no foraging needed!

OF GARDENS AND ENGLISHMEN

How is a garden akin to knitting? let me count the ways:

• Color, color, color...
• Texture, texture, texture...
• Surprise endings. As in gardens, we often start with a plan or idea and foolishly think we can always control the outcome.
• Both are prone to induce feelings of expectation, wonder and, occasionally, despair
• Gardening, like knitting, rewards patience

At least I don't have to weed my knitting, something I consider a very good thing seeing as I have allergies both to some growing things and  to (slogging, back-breaking) physical exertion.

Once, in my intarsia days, I designed a sweater inspired by William Morris I called 'Midnight Garden'. Everything was wool with a little silk then (these days, I give pure wool a wide birth. It's a lanolin thing). I remember sketching the idea for it on the back of a napkin while having tea in the Victoria & Albert museum in London.

Pre mortage (PM for short), I used to go treking off to England once a year to stock up on yarn, primarily Rowan DK, which used to come in hundreds of colors, thanks to Kaffe Fasset's influence. My addiction to color was so strong, I once imported from Appelton, a premier purveyor of British embroidery yarn, one skein in every available color, 200 in all.  

Besides, I love all things English. I even married one, though he insists that being raised in another country erases the 'MADE IN BRITAIN' on the bottom of his feet. Hey, he still has the accent, takes his tea steeped in a brown betty pot and insists on wearing his dad's Grenadier Guard tie. I know an Englishman when I see one.

WHAT'S GROWING IN MY GARDEN

A variation of the Sunset Bolero pattern just erupted from my needles, really. I was simply going about my business, testing another yarn to include in the vest kit, when this textury, nubbly, silk-infused creation started taking shape.

In truth, I believe it free-formed itself, taking off with nebulous notions of forming a medallion in the back with two kinds of Judi&Company ribbons. Blending various hand-dyed koi-colored silks with four other yarns over seed stitch created the graduated shading effect. 

See the brown yarn on the sides? Tilli Tomas Disco Lights. This yarn is subtle. You wouldn't even know the slightest, most demure, sparkle is going on under the radar here, right?

Well, I have to admit, I'm pleased with this little, um, evolution. Mighty pleased.

Spring Tangle