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Spring has Sprung

April - now that's starting to sound like Spring! (I realize that Spring technically happened a few weeks ago, but it was snowing that day so it didn't seem very real at the time.)

While it has started to warm up, it was still a bit cool to be standing sock-footed in a creek. But it was worth it - the Mud Creek socks were a successful experiment in gusset and toe decrease placement, and a chance to play with a beautiful hand painted yarn from an American company.

A photoshoot during which not only were lots of excellent pictures taken, but no people, accessories, or expensive electronic devices were dropped in the water may be considered a success (there were several close calls, though!)

The rain we've had for the past few days raised the water level in the creek nicely and made pretty rushing ripples, but it also made sliding down a muddy bank and figuring out to get shoes and socks off and back on an adventure.

Remember the ill-fated Kaona that's been in time out for awhile? It got unraveled, and rose from its own crinkly coils as Patio Jam - much more fun, much more cooperative, and I'm really happy with the finished piece (if for no other reason than that I managed to work a tassel and a cluster of gypsy bells into it, so it jingles pleasantly when I move. Yes, I am easily amused.)

This is not my pattern (unusual, I know!) but a sweet fellow knitter gave me the yellow yarn, and it just begged to be made into a pair of duckie booties for Little Bee. The mental image of tiny feet kicking [them off, in all likelihood] and flapping was irresistible. :)

With that, I actually finished everything I had going (not including the time-out basket, but I never include that in my calculations - it's demoralizing), and I've begun the next design. Frisco Trail, coming soon!


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31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…