Favorite Fingerless Gloves

I found my new favorite fingerless gloves pattern, thanks to a friend who asked me to make a pair for her sister-in-law. She chose 'treads', which is a free pattern download on Ravelry.  

However, at first, I was a little apprehensive about making them. 

Don't get me wrong, I love fingerless gloves -- they're so practical (also good for layering OVER regular gloves when it's really cold!) plus they're generally easier and quicker to make then gloves with fingers. But the pattern looked like I had to make short fingers in any case. Plus it all looked a little complicated -- an Estonian braid?? What in the world?!

I'm happy to report that it was really simple. The pattern offers great instructions and once I got the hang of the Estonian braid, it was super easy. So simple in fact, I had no hesitation starting the second glove. (You know about the 'second sock syndrome' right? Right after you've made one sock, you don't even want to go near sock #2. Well, the same principle applies to gloves. After all, you still need two.)

And once I finished these and tried them on for size, I decided that I also needed a pair for myself. 

My local yarn store had one skein of this yarn left (I used Berocco Vintage in cracked pepper), so I nabbed it and calculated that I have enough yarn leftover from the first skein to make one more glove. So skein two should yield three more gloves. That's three pairs total for those of you counting. One pair for the original gal who wanted them, one for me and one for my friend who started this all in the first place. 

I'm just hoping that third, fourth, fifth and sixth glove syndrome don't kick in at any point during this whole process. 

 

Scrapbooking on the Cheap: Part I

Ever since my mom bought me my first journal, I have had a love affair with paper and everything related to it: books, magazines, scrapbooks, cards and even office supplies. It's not easy for me to walk past a store that sells paper without at least having a look inside.

Before 'scrapbooking' was a household term, I collected bits of ephemera from road trips and pasted them into a plain spiral bound notebook, labeling it something like 'Brenda's Scrapbook'. (Clever, eh?!) The only thing I paid for were the photos and the actual notebook.

When stickers arrived on the scene in the 1980s, I couldn't contain myself. Unicorns, My Little Ponies, and anything that resembled a horse somehow ended up in my sticker collection. My friends and I traded them, we wore them, we spent money on them. 

Only I didn't have a lot of money in elementary school. I got an allowance, but that certainly didn't go far in the sticker realm. The sticker albums were something else -- I don't remember what they cost, but I do know they were way beyond my budget. 

My mother came up with a plan so that I could still swap stickers at school -- she somehow amassed a bunch of those clear plastic sheets and we put construction paper on the inside. I had a little binder to put the sheets in and suddenly, I had my own sticker book. The stickers still came off easily, and even though I didn't have an 'official' sticker book, I still had a fully functional, and personalized one to carry around.

When craft stores like Michaels came on the scene, I was well into adulthood, but I still about died when I first set foot in one. So much creativity and craftiness under one roof! And all of those stickers! 

I didn't revert to childhood with the unicorns, but I did start to collect bits and pieces for my modern-day scrapbooks.  But I soon discovered that this little hobby of mine was starting to add up. It had never cost me much before... and suddenly, I was out more than just pocket change.

There was still something about paper, scissors and a glue stick that I couldn't resist though. I started looking for ways to continue with my hobby, but I tried to creatively come up with ideas that were cheaper than simply buying all new supplies at a craft store. 

Later this week, I'll share some of those secrets with you. In the meantime, head over to Doris Sander's blog, meanderings and check out her fantastic scrapbooks and photos. I discovered her just a short while ago and she has again inspired me to start scrapbooking again (ever since we moved, I have hardly touched a glue stick). Her scrapbooks make me want to hold them in my hand and turn the pages myself!

Save the Yarn!

After I posted a photo of the grey sweater on that last post, I realized that I haven't worn it yet all season. Now, I do not own copious amounts of clothing. Transatlantic traveling and moving stuff all over the world means that I have narrowed down the wardrobe significantly over the years. 

I generally have a rule that if I haven't worn something in a year, it gets donated. (I know it's not spring yet, but you can read more spring cleaning tips here.) So, I couldn't figure out why I hadn't worn my handmade vest yet this winter. After all, I seemed to remember wearing it every other day last winter. I tried it on and noticed the button hanging on for dear life. I think every time I put it on, I saw that I needed to resew the button, but it went back into the closet, instead of the sewing pile. 

Well, this time, I decided to finally fix it, only I took the button clean off. I never thought it looked quite right, so why leave it there? I bought this neat shawl pin at my local yarn store to use on the Patient Shawl, but I think it looks quite spiffy on the grey vest, too. 

The only thing left to do was to sew up the buttonhole. Thankfully, for every project I have made, I keep a small stash of the leftover yarn for just such a purpose. (If you're giving a gift, send along some of the extra yarn in case the recipient needs to make repairs! You can see how to make a simple yarn card here.)

So stash bust all you want with your leftover pile of yarn after you finish a project. But remember to save a little bit for yourself, in case you ever need to sew up a buttonhole.

Sweater Sheepishness

I was so gung-ho to whip up this quick project to wear for the cold weather. I was even more motivated when the yarn turned up on sale. 

Then I finished this shrug. Quickly. It took me about four evenings worth of knitting to make the whole thing.

I tried it on late one night and decided it was kinda cute and then I spent the next 20 minutes weaving in all of the ends. 

The next day I looked at it again and hated it. 

Seriously.  

It looks really great just laying there, but when I put it on, it looked awful. There was something not quite right about it. I'm not sure if I bound off the ribbing too tightly, or if the sleeves were simply too long (note to pattern designers: just because some of us are bustier and therefore require a larger chest size in a pattern, it doesn't mean that we need to have the sleeves come down to our knees. Some clothing companies actually call me 'petite'.) Whatever the reason was, this was not the right pattern for me. 

I figured I'd just rip it out and try again. Then I realized I had already woven in the ends. ALL OF THEM. 

Sadly this is not a first for me. 

A few years ago, I made a simple grey sweater. For some reason, I didn't bother trying it on before I seamed the whole thing up and wove in ALL of the ends. 

The result was a GIANT sweater that could have easily been worn off the shoulder (it wasn't supposed to). I ended up having to try to figure out where the ends were and then I ripped the whole thing out. I made the vest on the right instead. It was much more fun to knit (sideways!) and I've gotten tons of compliments on it. 

I swore I'd never again weave in the ends until I was absolutely SURE. Sure sure. 

Earlier this year, I made this blue cotton cardigan. I started to weave in the ends when disaster struck. Luckily, I hadn't yet set the sleeves in, so it was infinitely less work to rip out the rest of the sweater. 

After I ripped out the Fisherman Shrug, I scoured my magazine stash, found a new pattern, and started on the Snowdrift Shrug. 

It looked so cute in the picture, but after I finished the body, and before I started the sleeves, I tried it on and I felt like a sheep. This sheep, in fact. There's something about bulky yarn and seed stitch in a cream color that reminds me of the flock.

I didn't weave in any ends yet, so there's still a chance that I can easily salvage the yarn and make something completely different. Or I can finish the sleeves and just look a little sheepish in the cold weather. Or I can go back to the Fisherman Shrug and make shorter sleeves and a few other adjustments.

Decisions, decisions. What would you do? 

Soup's On! (and on... and on... and on...)

I don't remember having a ton of actual toys growing up, but living on three acres of forest land meant that I had an amazing backyard at my disposal. 

It also meant that I got a little creative with nature and the tools we had on hand. I remember using a giant five gallon plastic bucket and the garden hose to make soup. There were twigs, rocks, floating leaves and even some dirt thrown in the mix. Random berries growing around the property made the 'soup' look even tastier.

Thankfully, I knew better than to actually sample my soup, but I had fun throwing things together and imagining that I was a chef. 

When I first tried my hand at real cooking, some of my soups had that same dirt-like appearance. I had a number of soup disasters -- I suspect the dirt soup may have actually been more palatable. Borscht ended up all over my Pepto-Bismol pink walls in England when I tried to grate the beets. Broccoli soup turned into a gooey mess. In Ukraine, where I ate soup three times a day, every day, I added too much salt when it was my time to cook. WAAAAYYY too much salt. In South Africa, I didn't bother with any kind of soup because the Sailor wasn't really into it. 

By the time that I relocated back to America though, I was determined to eat healthy and shop frugally. I grew tired of finding half dead vegetables in my drawer and wasting leftovers. 

Soup found it's way back into my kitchen. Soup is AMAZING. Seriously. A small cup is a great compliment to a meal and a large bowl with some bread or crackers is enough to fill you right up all on its own. (And warm you up in the winter!)

Sauté a little onion, add some vegetables, some leftover rice and cooked chicken and some basic stock, and voilà, you have Chicken Rice Soup. Are those veggies getting mushy? Sauté those and add a little broth and milk and then puree, and you have soup. Thankfully, these days, the Sailor actually requests (and then eats!) soup, so I make it now on a regular basis. 

I used to try to plan my soup meals and then I'd shop for every ingredient that I didn't have. It wasn't the most frugal plan. I still ended up with food rotting. Then I started challenging myself to make something with what I already had in the cupboard and fridge. Obviously, I still shop. The other day, I had to buy onions, because I knew I needed those for soup, and my stash had run low. But it's amazing how long I can go between shopping endeavors when I think creatively about cooking.

The other night I had a bit of a soup marathon. Within an hour and a half, I'd made three different soups. I had half a bag of carrots that needed to be used, so I made carrot and coriander soup, but I just halved the recipe (if at all possible, I usually try to double soup recipes and freeze them... but for the sake of carrots that would go to waste, I whipped up half a batch!) 

I also found a frozen bag of roasted veggies from a dinner we hosted a while back. I always cook too much... and then I end up throwing it in the freezer, not always knowing what to do with it. This time, I saved the beef broth from the roast as well. I cooked both together, pureed the mix with my hand blender* and then added some milk (or cream if you prefer) and salt and pepper. While the result doesn't look much more appetizing than brown applesauce, it was DELICIOUS. And healthy! I know exactly what was in the veggies and broth because I cooked them all from scratch to start with. 

Besides, soup gives me a great excuse to store the leftovers in vintage Pyrex. Win win. 

Finally, I found a bag of parsnips in a pile in the fridge. I bought them for Christmas dinner and then totally forgot to cook them. (In my defense, they were hiding under the spinach and that half bag of carrots...) I found a recipe for Parsnip and Parmesan soup in my favorite soup book:  The New Covent Garden Soup Company's Book of Soups. (I've had my copy since the late 90s, and you can be assured it will continue to be a staple in my kitchen arsenal.) 

While I didn't have Parmesan, I at least had cheese. Substituting is not a crime. Throwing out a whole bag of parsnips would have been. 

Soup's on.  

 *Hand blenders are absolutely necessary in my book for soup making. I make a lot of pureed soups because I personally think the flavors blend together better than if you don't puree them. If you have a small kitchen, and don't even have space for a regular blender, then a hand or immersion blender is perfect! You can do the same things as with a regular blender (except maybe chop ice cubes...). I wouldn't recommend pureeing a soup in a regular blender unless it's completely cooled off. With an immersion blender, you can just whip the stuff right in the pot! I recently replaced my old hand blender with this one from Cuisinart.