Hideous Knitting 101

Time for another thrilling session of Hideous Knitting 101.

Nothing quite defines "classy" as looking like Charo in the afterlife. Well, at least this is what I picture Charo wearing in her afterlife. Don't get me wrong, I lurve Charo. I think she's funny, looks amazing for her age (although I'm sure surgery was incorporated a few times) **, and plays a damn good flamenco guitar.

I...just don't want to emulate her on my WEDDING DAY.

Cuchi-cuchi, indeed.

I present the

"Pristine Wedding Gown"

First of all, blatant misuse of the word "pristine" always pisses me off to no end. Pristine basically means primitive, or something that is in its original state. It's not really a good adjective to describe a new, hand-made garment, unless, in this case, Oxford English Dictionary has concluded that pristine also means "ugly."

Secondly, I realize that this is crochet, not knitting. There is something about crochet garments that look, well, more tawdry than clothes constructed by other means (sewing, knitting, fan dancing, etc.). Oh and the designer used the word "elegant" to describe it (tee-hee). Now, my grandmom was an expert crocheter. She made more crocheted toys, hats, scarves, sweaters, blankets, tablecloths, doilies, curtains, and ponchos (before they ever were cool) than you can shake a stick at. And we loved and cherished every last one of them. But there's something different about a 7-year-old wearing a crocheted sweater on Easter, than a grown woman wearing a crochet wedding gown.

Hideous Knitting (er, I mean Crochet) 101 report card:

Style: D "Live from Caesar's Palace Casino right here in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada: The incomparable CHARO!" Also, what's with that sort-of webbing on the arms? Looks like she walked through Shelob's lair on the way to the altar. I'm also reminded of the Carole Burnett skit in which they parodied Gone With the Wind. She came traipsing down a grand staircase wearing a hilarious dress made from the window curtains, rod sticking out from the shoulders and all. When Rhett asked her where she got the dress, she replied, "I saw it in the window and I just couldn't resist it." Well in this case it would be, "I saw it on grandma's table and I just couldn't resist it!"

Fit: F This is one of the most ridiculous applications for crochet that I've ever seen. Also, can you imagine how much something like this weighs? I think Dickens should have had the ghost of Jacob Marley wear this instead of dragging chains around. I'm sure this is much heavier and it's most certainly more frightening.

Color(s): B- Well, it's a wedding gown, for Pete's sake, so it kind of HAS to be in the white-to-beige sort of color range. Although, the designer has stated that you could make this as a "prom dress, ballroom dress or awards dress" (whatever THAT is). Imagine making this for your daughter to wear to her prom. Better make it in white, beige, light pink, or black because those are the only colors in which you can get a full-length slip! And from the looks of it, you're going to need one! SIGH I suppose you could dye a slip to match.... What a pain in the patootie!

Yarn: INC I guess we really have to buy the pattern even to determine what yarn to use --- or gauge. But from the photo, it sort of looks like a size 5 crochet thread (which in knitting terms is about a sport weight). I would imagine it's cotton, since most crochet thread goes that route. OMG. I just had a terrifying thought. What if this was crocheted in...acrylic? AAAAGGGHHHH. The horror...the horror.

Execution: B- I must admit that I am impressed with the stamina possessed by the person(s) who crocheted this. My major complaint with execution is that the entire weight of this dress is concentrated on what appears to be 4 or 6 angel-hair-width straps. The thought of having the entire weight of a crocheted, full-length (with a train) gown pulling on eensie-teensie straps is causing my shoulders to weep at this very moment. There, there, sweet shoulders. I wouldn't do that to you!


**SIDE NOTE: My dad always buys a current World Almanac. And the World Almanac always lists celebrity birth dates, and deaths. Every almanac I've ever seen indicates that Charo was born in 1941, making her 69 years old. However, Charo now says that she was born in 1951. This seems really disturbing and absurd since she was married in 1966 to a 66-year-old man. SHUDDER. Maybe she wore this when she got married....

Dear Barbara Walker:

You seriously rule for inventing ssk (slip, slip, knit). I can't tell you how much ssk beats the living snot out of k2togtbl, especially on sock gusset decreases. I will come kneel at your feet at this year's KDO in September. So when a chubby chick with crazy, curly hair starts cow-towing before you, it's me.

Forever in your knitting debt,

Gina

A Public Service Announcement

If you are in the market for a luxury yarn --- particularly cashmere or a cashmere blend --- then I HIGHLY recommend ColourMart.

They have truly beautiful yarns in nice, lovely, natural, workable colors for extraordinary prices. I just got 420 yards of light worsted cashmere for $36, shipping included. Colorway is called "dust." The best way to describe the color is that it's a light gray beige.



It's even nicer in person. I plan on using it as the main color to make the Folk Art Scarf. Link is to free Ravelry pattern.


Now I'm being tempted by a luscious plum-colored aran cashmere...$32 for 330 yards, shipped.

Commence sitting on hands in 5...4...3....

A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words

So here's a (mostly) pictorial update of the last three (URGH) months.

April 2010:

Falling out with Mom & Dad on Easter. Didn't speak to them for almost a month. Not fun. But it's in the past and I've moved on (for the most part). Things are hunky dory now.

In knitting:

Shawl for brother-in-law's wedding in May. Ice Yarns mohair sequin is THE BOMB.



































May 2010:

In knitting:

Shrug to be worn at some festivity of the wedding.



Dale of Norway Svale yarn. Nice stuff. Used three strands at a time to get gauge. Super nice pattern (Glamour Shrug on Ravelry). Took only a DAY to knit. Will make it again.













Scarf done in same pattern like that shawl.


Using a sport-weight yarn I got on Ravelry. Shunklies was the seller. Gorgeous colors. Called "candy shop." Light, airy, and squishy. Have enough yarn to make another, which I am! About 1/2 done that one.














Pocketbook slippers. Finished a pair for my mom, forgot to photograph it. This is one of a second pair. Haven't cast-on the second. This pattern is surprisingly tedious....
















Brother-in-law's wedding on May 7. Wore the shawl for all of 15 minutes in the hotel bar post-wedding at night. Why? Because it was in Florida and it was freakin' 98 degrees the whole time we were there. Actual nuptials were outside on the beach. Caryn, my new sister-in-law is a dear and she looked so gorgeous. I don't know what her secret was, but I looked like a disaster in the heat & humidity. Also, I looked like Orca. I felt horrible and embarrassed the whole time. I hope that they don't have any photos of me. I tried to be as invisible as possible. I seriously feel gross and enormous. But that's another story entirely....

May 9: My birthday and Mother's Day. Had a strained lunch celebration of both events at a Chinese restaurant with my parents. First time I saw them since Easter. It was fine.

May 23: THE END OF LOST. I died a little.


June 2010: The month of unbelievable disaster.

June 2:
















The less said about this, the better. In short: Todd was alone in the car, driving home on I95. Got rear-ended. Was the 3rd car in a 5-car rear-ending accident. Car totaled. Todd's 100% fine.

We got a Toyota RAV 4 to replace Big Red (which is also Red).

Sigh.











June 7: Learned that a childhood friend of mine committed suicide. Probably one of the last people I'd ever expect to do such a thing. Very upsetting. Went to his service on June 10.

June 8: Learned that a childhood friend of mine --- for whom I was the maid of honor at her wedding --- is getting a divorce. Deeply saddened. I know it's the right thing for her to do, but still.

June 28: Todd's boss decides it would be swell to cut his hours down even further (maybe just for the summer, but I'm not holding my breath) to TWO days a week. Lovely.

In knitting:

My neighbor across the street had a baby girl sometime mid-April. (named her Isla, neat name). Made a Katja halter top, but I made it longer so it's more of a little dress

Used Plymouth Bella Coloura yarn. Making another of these for my niece (see below).













Lots o' dishcloths for a friend's housewarming party:













































Katja for Aubrey:

Here it is blocking. I think it's too big, but she can wear it next year, if that's the case!

Used TLC Cotton Plus yarn.











Today, June 30, is Todd's birthday. He's 39. We're heading down to The River for a little vacation either tonight or tomorrow morning. We SO need a break.

Sadness

Life's been hectic for me over the last several weeks, so my apologies for not being an active poster!

This time of year is pretty hellish for me with regard to my job. It's when everything happens at once, you know? Then there are the students...oy. Plus I was sick all last week with what seemed like the flu, but I know it wasn't actually the flu. Since moving to Delaware, I've developed painfully severe allergies and they flair up big time in the fall and spring.

I haven't really been doing much knitting lately, only enough to finish one generic sock of a pair that I'm using the Deborah Norville yarn to knit. And I'm almost finished one sock of that houndstooth pair (Talbot pattern). I just haven't had the energy to cast on either of complementary socks to finish either pair. Sigh. Maybe this weekend.

Now, I must try to muster the emotional energy to post about my deep sadness. The short story is that Todd and I had to have our lovely, sweet Sophie euthanized on Monday, 3/29. Painful as the decision was, I know deep down that it was the right thing to do for her. I just could not bear the thought of her in pain, suffering, and wasting away.

The long story is:

Sophie had been ailing with hyperthyroidism for the last few years. She was once a 22-pound cat, which I know is appallingly overweight for a house cat. We noticed right around the time we moved to DE that she looked, well, good! We took her in for her annual check-up and she was down to about 18 pounds. On another vet visit several months later she was down another 1.5 pounds. (She was prone to respiratory infections because as a stray in the years before we got her, she had a horrible case of pneumonia, which left her with a chronic respiratory issue.) Then she needed to have several of her teeth removed because they were so bad, 8 or so. Down another 1/2 pound or so. Blood work indicated that she had hyperthyroidism, so we began giving her medication to get that under control. Over the last 2-3 years, she'd been on a steady decline of weight loss, infections, UTIs, cataracts, dehydration, etc. It's hard to imagine any human being, let alone a cat, dealing with all of these problems without any complaint at all. Yet that is just what Sophie did. She was exceptionally smart and often a solitary animal, despite the other 5 beasts that she ended up sharing her home with. Sophie had a gentle and charming disposition; she was a lady, though certainly not aloof or haughty.

Because of her thyroid condition, she required quarterly blood work to check her T4 levels. Every time we did this, she weighed less and less. We never seemed to be able get the dosage right, despite tweaking is several times, as recommended by the vet. She had another series of blood tests done in February (by a vet that we don't usually see, and never will again if I have anything to say about it) and, for the first time ever, all seemed normal with regard to T4 levels. A minor victory, though, as she was now down to 10 pounds, 15 ounces. March 15th was her "birthday," as we celebrated it. We also had to take Sophie and all her siblings into the vet that day for their annual check-up and shots. Sophie was down to 10 pounds 3 ounces. "Is she eating," our vet asked? Most certainly. Sophie had a voracious appetite and ate pretty much whatever you put in front of her, unless you tried to conceal medication in the food. She could sense it there and would not eat it. Smart cookie, my Sophie. But even lately, when we powdered up her tiny thyroid pill and put it in her food, she ate it. I don't know why this didn't set off any alarms in my head. In retrospect, it should have (as you will see).

At this time Todd noticed rather curious lump in her neck. It didn't feel like a tumor or growth of any kind. It was sort of soft and could easily be shifted around. Our vet aspirated the contents and it reduced its size by 75%. What the hell was it?? All blood. Our vet asked, "Did she have an injury to her jugular? Because this is a large hematoma." We couldn't for the life of us figure out what happened to her to cause that. Then our vet asked, "When she had blood work a month ago, did Dr. ^&$*%)@ (not mentioning the name here) take it from her neck?" And after thinking on it a little I realized that the other vet DID take it from her neck! So, that other vet DAMAGED MY SOPHIE'S JUGULAR VEIN. I can't tell you how infuriated I was, and still am, about this.

In the two weeks between her annual vet visit and her last day, she seemed completely normal, by Sophie standards. The night before, she crawled up on top of me while I was asleep and sat with me for a while. I was only vaguely aware that a cat was on me, Todd was awake and confirmed that it was Sophie. She hadn't done this in quite a while. Maybe she was trying to tell me something? While getting ready for work in the morning, I happened to be in the hallway and noticed fresh, pink, wet spots on the carpet in a couple of places. I saw Sophie sitting up near the guest bathroom cleaning herself. Then I saw more pink droplets on her fur. She had been attempting to urinate and it was blood. She would walk a few steps, then stop and try to pee again, only to have a dime-sized amount of pink fluid released. She laid on her side at one point and I was petting her. She must have been in agony because she kept contracting up her back legs, almost like a spasm, and she was breathing heavily. I think I knew at that moment that she would be leaving me forever that day. I broke down and cried as Todd called the vet.

We went to the vet, and thankfully it was our usual vet who we like very much. First thing: the scale. Down to 9 pounds 11 ounces. She lost half a pound in 2 weeks. That is a disastrous amount of weight for a cat to lose in 2 weeks, especially one that eats very well. She had a fever. Her hematoma had filled up again, too. Our vet examined her and told us that Sophie's kidneys were failing, basically breaking down from the inside. They were hard, misshapen, and atrophied. This is what was causing her urination problems. There was little they could do to alleviate that situation, as no antibiotic or medication could improve failing kidneys. Then she took an x-ray.

After an agonizing wait for the results, the vet showed us the x-rays. She pointed out 2 masses in 2 different places in Sophie's stomach. Cancer. I felt like someone stabbed me in the neck. One mass was quite large (about the size of a mouse) and the other was smaller, like a large olive. It all became clear to me why she was hungry all the time and eating as much food as possible. Sophie was, essentially, starving all the while feeding her tumors. She was getting little to no nutrients from her food intake. This news hurt worst of all, I think. Sophie looked forward to feeding time and I always assumed that her healthy appetite meant that she was healthy in general. So not only was she having severe kidney problems that we were unaware of, but also she was eating and never feeling full for God only knows how long. :-(

Todd asked the vet about 1000 questions to see if there was any other viable option to help Sophie get better. There wasn’t. It was time to let her go. After her initial sedation Sophie became very relaxed and calm. It was as if I could feel her pain slipping away from her as she stretched out her front paws a little. Sophie’s loving, gentle heart stopped beating within seconds of the lethal injection and she was finally at peace.

I am only now just accepting that she’s gone from my life. We loved her like a child, especially since she was our "first-born," per se. We had Sophie for nearly 10 years. She was 14.

My beautiful Sophie, as I will always remember her:

Sophie in her younger, sillier days: