Knitting bits

In the spring, I made a gorgeous Sweet Eleanor cabled hat and donated it to the auction for The Thacher School, which my friend Kelli's daughter attends. Kelli attended the auction and bid on the hat, but did not win it. I decided that I would knit a hat from the same pattern for Kelli's birthday in October.

I chose Manos del Uruguay Silk Blend and my oh my, the 70% Merino and 30% silk blend feels fabulous. Kelli likes earth tones and I think the colorway integrated beautifully many different earthy colors:


Here is a close-up of the crown, which has an interesting pattern that almost resembles a flower, or a star:


Kelli received the hat the day before her birthday and sent me a happy thank you text message. She lives in South Carolina, so it may be a while before she has the need for a hat.

This week I finished a quick little knit for me. I bought the yarn and pattern at the Old Forge Hardware and it was my first time to knit with Noro Silk Garden. Honestly, I was not impressed. It seemed very rough for yarn that is 45% silk (along with 45% Mohair and 10% wool) but it did soften a bit after it was soaked in Eucalan. It is more a decorative scarf, as in I will wear it indoors as an accessory rather than to keep warm outside:

I like the scarf just fine, but I definitely have the need to knit Noro out of my system.

Note: I used my neighbor Cindy's fence to photograph it - thank you, Cindy!

A Vagabond Song

When my friend Geri saw the photo of a glorious tree that I snapped the other day at Beaver Lake, she was reminded of a poem called A Vagabond Song. I am not normally one for poetry, but every once in a while I come across one that grabs my attention and my heart, and this poem did just that. I am so pleased that Geri shared it with me and now I am going to share it with you:

     A Vagabond Song
     By Bliss Carman (1861-1929)

     There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood --
     Touch of manner, hint of mood;
     And my heart is like a rhyme,
     With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

     The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
     Of bugles going by.
     And my lonely spirit thrills
     To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

     There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
     We must rise and follow her,
     When from every hill of flame
     She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

"The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry of bugles going by" - enough said.