Camy Tang's Pink fuzzy stash buster blanket

Like many knitters, I have a lot of extra yarn, almost all leftovers from other projects, and I didn’t know what to do with it because there wasn’t quite enough to make anything except perhaps hand mitts or a scarflette, and I have tons of those.

So I decided to combine them all to make a blanket using Tunisian crochet!

I think it’s pretty! Here’s the Ravelry link in case you were interested: http://ravel.me/camytang/sbb

I showed the blanket to Captain Caffeine first, then to my friend Dineen Miller. After my visit with Dineen, I complained to the Captain:

Me: I showed Dineen my pink fuzzy blanket and she expressed the proper exclamations of praise for it.

Captain: Like what?

Me: “Oh, is this your pink fuzzy blanket? It’s so nice! I can’t believe you used all your stash yarn for it! I love how the pink fun fur makes it so cute and fuzzy! It’s so heavy! It’s so soft! It’s so pink! It’s so you!” (I pause for dramatic effect and give the Captain a Significant Look.)

Captain: You mean it’s not enough to say, “It’s nice”?

Me: (Incredulous look.)

Captain: I guess I can see the difference.

Me: !!!!!!!!!

Ahem Putting aside my husband’s complete lack of empathy, I love knitting and just shared a knitting pattern for the lacy fingerless mitts that appeared in my book Lady Wynwood’s Spies, volume 6: Martyr (writing as Camille Elliot). If you knit, I hope you check it out!

Chopsticks and knitting with Camy

Hahahahaha! My husband, Captain Caffeine sent me this cartoon. The Asian and the knitter in me loves this one:

My parents taught me to use chopsticks at an early age so they’re pretty comfortable for me. Did you know there are differences between Japanese and Chinese chopsticks? The Chinese ones tend to be blunter and more slippery whereas the Japanese ones are pointier and sometimes have a textured tip to make it easier to grab food. My mom will eat salad with a chopstick, which I have to admit is a bit easier than a fork, for me.

Any of you knit? Any of you use chopsticks?

Sad Mac beanie by Camy Tang

My husband’s office at work is colder than Aunty Aikiko’s heart, and he wanted a unique beanie to wear. He chose the “sad Mac” icon that appears when your Mac has given up the ghost.

So I knit him this:

If you want to see the specs, you can check them out on Ravelry: http://ravel.me/camytang/smb. Non-knitters would probably be bored by my description of how I made it, so I posted it there.

What do you think??? I think my husband’s coworkers will get a kick out of it.

Knitting for Love by Milou Koenings

I had taken the kids to the park, not because it was a sunny day - it was hazy - and not because they needed to run around - they always did.   

I had grabbed my "going to the park" bag, which was always at the ready by the door, next to the stroller, and taken kids, bag and stroller down the block because I needed to cool off, something impossible to do with the object of my furor camped on the couch of our living room, stewing.

What had we fought about?  I certainly don't remember.  At the time it seemed terribly important.  Or at the very least, terribly irritating.

The kids toddled off to the sand pit with their shovels and pails.  I settled down on a nearby bench.  When I saw they were happily playing, I reached into my bag and pulled out my knitting.  Mindlessly, I started looping the burgundy yarn between my fingers, anchored the knitting needles under my arms and started working.  My thoughts were elsewhere, still ruminating on the argument with my spouse.  Other than frequent glances at my children, I was hardly aware of the other kids in the playground.  It took me some time to realize that a group of boys, perhaps six to eight years old, had grouped in a semi-circle in front of me to watch me knit.

Their eyes were fascinated.  I suppose they were more used to seeing moms tote books and cellphones than engaging in traditional crafts, because they were having an intense discussion about what it was exactly that I was doing.  (There's something charming about young children's ability to talk to each other, oblivious that adults around them can actually hear them.)

"She's crocheting."

"Duh, that's not crocheting, that's knitting."  I was impressed they even knew the two words.

"What's she making?"  I kept my eyes down, curious to hear an answer.

"A blanket." Wrong.

"Look, it's a sweater." Correct.

"What's she making a sweater for? Doesn't she have money to buy one?"  Two of the boys shrugged and continued to stare.

One of the older boys frowned, staring at the knitting accumulated on my lap.  Finally, he came to a conclusion. "Look at the color.  It's a sweater for her husband."  Correct, actually, but women don't wear burgundy? 

"Yeah, that's what wives do for their husbands," confirmed another kid.  "Make them sweaters." Really? Huh.

Eventually, one of the boys got the courage to ask me if that was, indeed, what I was doing.  I showed them how to knit a few stitches and then they wandered off.  But the point that had seemed most important to them remained: I was making something for my husband.  I looked down at the piece on my lap and picked up the needles.  I knit one. I knit two. Stitches for my husband.  I knit more.

Slowly, the anger I'd felt dissipated, each stitch moving it out of the way, making room for care.  By the time we got home, I really didn't recall why I'd been so upset at the one I love.

This happened a long time ago.  Both of those toddlers are teenagers now.  Mothering teens is not for the faint of heart. Sometimes, it's hard to remember the sweet, yummy creatures they used to be.  It takes reaching deep, sometimes very deep indeed, to mine yet more patience and keep fanning all those warm fuzzy feelings, when by all reasonable measure you've reached the end of your rope.  That's when I reach for more thread – it's no coincidence that I've taken up knitting again. 

The lesson I learned in the playground stands me in good stead now.  It's hard to keep wanting to ground your kid forever while you're knitting her a soft, fuzzy garment to protect her from the cold and keep her cozy.  Row by row, I find patience and calm again.  Then I put down the needles and enter the fray of mothering once more.

There may be a lot of sweaters in our near future, but with a bit of luck – and lots of yarn – there'll be a lot of warmth, too.

Milou Koenings writes romance because, like chocolate, stories with a happy ending bring more joy into the world and so make it a better place.

Her novel, Reclaiming Home, A Green Pines Romance, is available at Amazon.

You can find her on her website, www.miloukoenings.com, on Facebook, Goodreads or Twitter.

Giving Together by Aileen Fish

A few years ago, my mom and I moved closer to my daughters and their families so we could be more involved with the little things in their lives, as opposed to holiday gatherings. Not long after that, my daughter Aspen encouraged us to join her at a Project Linus meeting.

I've been a quilter for around ten years, and have knitted and crocheted since childhood. Mom has also knitted and crocheted since childhood, although she's given up the crochet work in recent years. So, joining an organization that makes blankets for kid in stressful situations like being hospitalized was a perfect fit for us.

In the few years since we joined, our family has grown. My daughter and her husband have a beautiful little girl, so of course, she had to join our night out with the girls.

Once she was old enough to hold a huge crochet hook, little Zoey was given her own ball of yarn to play with. I'll never forget the night she sat on my lap as I crocheted, but had her attention on her great grandma whose hands were flying with yarn and needles doing their thing. Zoey kept running her piece of yarn through her hands as if trying to figure out why hers wasn't making a blanket.

Our area coordinator loves the fact we had four generations attending meetings. There are a few mother/daughter pairs who come, and we've gotten to teach some younger people how to crochet or sew. One night some high school kids attended and learned how to make fringed fleece blankets. As much as I love the fact we're providing blankets—and security—to kids in need of comfort, I really love seeing these old skills being passed on to younger generations. Making something with your own hands gives you such a feeling of accomplishment!

Does your family participate in any sort of community event? Or is there some skill you've learned from a parent or grandparent that you have passed on to another generation? I'd love to hear about it.

~*~

Aileen Fish is a proud mom, grandma, quilter, crocheter, who somehow still manages to squeeze in time to write. Her latest release, HER SECONDHAND DUKE, is available at all major ebook retailers. You can find the buy links at her website, and on her Facebook page under the Author App tab.