No Red, White, and Blue Ackrilic Knitted Objects Allowed on the Premises

Best Quote I Heard All Day

July 4. Statistics show that we lose more fools on this day than in all the other days of the year put together. This proves, by the number left in stock, that one 4th of July per year is now inadequate, the country has grown so.--Mark Twain

I love fireworks. Here in PA they are legal and you can even buy them in the supermarket. I was so fucking tempted to buy a bunch and shoot 'em off tomorrow. If it doesn't rain, which it's supposed to.

Friggin' Flag Knitting
The only garment made from a flag that was truly cool was worn by The Who back in the '60s. When Carnaby St. was the fashion universe, at least to this then 17 year old.

Here's the perfect KnitDweeb patriotic project. Red, white, and blue warshcloth done in the Old Shale pattern. Nice, huh? Of course, this is done in Sugar 'n Cream, available at the Michaels, AC Moore, WalMart, Hobby Lobby, and other wonderful KnitDweeb emporia.

Or perhaps you'd prefer to crochet a lovely flag afghan? Materials: Red Heart, but of course.

Now, these American flag socks are rather funky. And made with real wool, gang. I'd almost be tempted to make these, just to be obnoxious.

And, in keeping with the true KnitDweeb spirit, all of the aforementioned patterns are FREE, FREE, FREE.

Sorry, can't do white on white. Just white on rice.

Open Mic Thursday
OK, I've given you plenty of ammo. Ya wanna knit patriotic? Then tell the world...

Which of the three patterns above would you knit?

And if you have other sources for patriotic knitted stuff, feel free to shut the fuck up, please. Three are more than enough. Unless you have found something completely absurd. In which case, I'm sure we'd all be intrigued and disgusted.

Warped Speed
After having been sent this link by my dear sister, Ms. Scrappy, I may have to restrict my knitting web surfing. Be afraid, be very afraid of this link. It's not patriotic, just completely bizarre. Knit it because you can. I double dog-dared the blogging Wolvies to knit a pair and be photographed wearing them. No takers. Clearly, I have balls and I'll have to do it.

Obligatory Knitting Shit
The Las Vegas Brights scarf is almost done. Then it's back to the Cobweb Crepe shawl.

In the meanwhile, for all of us who spin, Katherine Matthews once again is having the Tour de Fleece.



I'm in. The Tour begins on July 5th and you must use fiber from your stash, which I think is a capital idea.

This is not the sum total of my fiber stash by a long shot. Just the smaller amounts. We won't talk about the 3 pounds of Romney, the endless supply of Tintagel Farm stuff, and other large purchases.

Please ignore all the Black Bunny Fibers purchases. I can't stay away from Carol's shit.

It's going to be one of these two. And I think I've already chosen the one. Both are silk.





So as of Saturday, the Joy will be cleaned and oiled. And then used for the Tour. Hot damn. I'll be taking photos as I go along. Gotta get it spun and plyed by the 27th so I qualify for the Maillot Jaune button. This one of the few "alongs" that I find worthwhile.

Because "alongs" are not particularly rare and handy, in my opinion. They belong with memes.

Note: The 6th anniversary of The Knitting Curmudgeon is fast approaching. July 25th. If any readers have good ideas for an anniversary blog topic, I'd appreciate the suggestions. God knows I never thought the blog would last this long.

Wherein This Writer Adopts Gonzo Knitting as her Raison d'Etre

Best Quote I Heard All Day
“[Ken] Kesey practices what has come to be known as gonzo journalism. The reporter, often intoxicated, fails to get the story but delivers instead a stylishly bizarre account that mocks conventional journalism.”--R.K. Sheppard

Gonzo knitting. A stylishly bizarre garment that mocks conventional knitting? That appeals. My literary hero, Hunter S., would approve, no doubt. Now, the key word here is "stylishly," which lifts "bizarre" onto a higher plateau, dontcha think?

Gonzo knitting. Anything gonzo, anything that "mocks" the establishment, attracts me to it like flies on shit. Well, if I'm not a stylishly bizarre writer, then I think I'll hang up the electronic pen and find a used Etch-a-Sketch to fulfill my scribbling needs.

PodPerson
Step One in the podcast project has been fulfilled. My Super Jeenyus, Neal, the world's Greatest Audio Engineer EVER (a sop to his ego) is delighted to help me learn to use Audacity and to be my personal engineer. Besides, he owes me big time, since I help him a lot with basic software stuff. As he says, "I'm the nerd, you're the geek."

So, when he's finished a freelance gig that he's doing on the weekends, he'll be ready to help. As long as I shut the fuck up and behave. Which is damned difficult, since we both revel in the "Neal and Marilyn Show," a constant stream of insulting banter back and forth, but delivered with great love and affection. He busts my chops, I give it right back. Hmmm, maybe he should be my podcast sidekick. He was once a deejay, so he'd probably love that.

Open Mic Thursday
OK, so it's almost 10 p.m. Thursday night but what the fuck. I was busy training today and kinda got involved in that for 4 hours. Thank God I now do it over Webex, otherwise I would have had to go to Eighty Four, PA. Yes, that's right. Eighty Four. Google it. It's about 25 miles south of Pittsburgh.

This past weekend, I finally bought the book Victorian Lace. I don't know why I waited so long but considering my rather large collection of knitting, spinning, and weaving books, along with the stacks of magazines, I've not really bought much recently, other than Carol's book. Small apartment, living room with three bookcases, all filled. But I was looking over my library the other day, picking up books that I'd bought but not really used. Yet.

And then there were my exceeding well-worn copies of the Barbara Walker Treasuries. These are the books, after almost 30 years of building my library, that I refer to the most often. And one that I almost never use, Principles of Knitting. By far, that is my least favorite book. So here's my question to you:

Which book in your library do you use the most? And the least?

And be honest. If you don't use any of EZ's books, that is not considered heresy on this blog.

Las Vegas Brights Scarf
It's growing exponentially. Almost done, I would say. I am quite pleased with it. And love working with silk that I spun.


My PhotoShop Essentials crapped out on me tonight (corrupt file, probably), so I couldn't adjust the picture's lighting and colors. But it's pretty much true, except that the color variations and subtleties are harder to see.

I've decided to give this to my friend/boss, Susan. She has finally finished her Master's after eight months of working full time, traveling, and trying to get her school work done. Susan saw it the other week when she was in the office--she lives in Tampa and only comes up to Jersey City every few months. When I told her it was hers, she was blown away because she understands how much work has gone into it. A gift of love? Absolutely.

I keep wondering when my fixation with lace will die down. I have done virtually nothing but for two years now. And yet, my fascination keeps growing, to the point where I have been designing my own lace pattern for the Chantilly Lace socks that will be in my book Rock Soxs.

Such a simple concept. A bunch of yarn loops and corresponding decreases on either a garter or stockinette field. Yet, it confounds so many and causes great gnashing of teeth, the uttering of expletives unknown to Richard Nixon, and a pathological fear of dropping stitches.

I know. I'm one of those rare and handy lunatics who is guilty of all of the above. It will never end, either.

Mountie Pride...And Other Tales From My Teenage Crypt

Best Quote I Heard All Day
High school is closer to the core of the American experience than anything else I can think of.--Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.



Yep, that's my high school yearbook picture. And the name tag I wore last night at the Montclair High School Class of 1968's 40th reunion. Yes, MHS warrants its own Wikipedia page. If you remember the movie, "Cheaper by the Dozen," the original, not the remake, the Gilbreth family lived in Montclair. Some of our alumni of note:

• Buzz Aldrin
• Joe Walsh (of the Eagles, if you're too young to remember)
• Allen B. DuMont
• Robert Trent Jones
• Christina Ricci
• Warren Littlefield

And me and Dottie Melcher, along with a host of other misanthropes. Well, perhaps that's too harsh a description. The Mad Dob and Marsh, as we were known in high school, haven't changed a whole hell of a lot.

I won't bore you with the details but suffice it to say that there is nothing better than reconnecting with people who you saw every single day of the school year from elementary school through high school. Here's the two of us, posing for a picture, which is perhaps not the most flattering but certainly indicative of the evening.


Somewhere I have a picture of the two of us at our brothers Rich and Bob's elementary school graduation, 16 years old and thought we were hot shit. I suppose not much has changed. It truly hasn't. We had not seen each other for six years. It was more like six minutes.

How We Became Artsy Fartsy Creative Types
When Dottie and I first met in 4th grade, she had a couple of Madame Alexander dolls, large ones, that were Gone With The Wind dolls, maybe Scarlett O'Hara and Melanie. I wasn't much for dolls but I was always fascinated by their clothes. We played with those dolls for quite a while. Until the following year, when Barbie became synonymous with dolly fashion.

When Barbie came out, I was almost 10 but immediately jumped on the Barbie bandwagon because at that time, her clothing was exquisitely made, miniature to-scale zippers and snaps, wonderful lace on the $5 wedding dress that took me weeks to save up for.

I wasn't much of a seamstress but I did try to knit little outfits for Barbie. Lots of dropped stitches, of course. And nothing in the way of shaping. But the garment bug had bitten me.

By the time Dottie and I were in 10th grade in 1966, Mary Quant was our fashion heroine. Our plan for life? We'd design clothes and open up our own boutique, The Mad Dob. Dottie could draw, I couldn't. But we both sewed our own clothes and figured we were hip enough to make a go of it. The dreams of two freaky teenagers. It was a wonderful time.

Going to London in the summer of 1967 and wandering around Carnaby Street whetted our fashion appetite, although we couldn't afford to buy any clothes there. And then to France, where we were blown away by the French girls' amazing style.

By the time graduation time came, our parents had managed to redirect us. Dottie went to Boston University to major in art, I went to Wilson College to major in French because I was really better at languages and I couldn't draw a straight line. The Mad Dob was put on hold, and life continued apace.

The upshot, 40 years later? Dottie is an art director, I'm a writer. We're both still involved in garment design. She specializes in Civil War costumes, crochets and sews. I can still sew, although I haven't for a long time. And you know what I do.

This is just one of the ties that bind. But it may be the most important. Because it's the fucking Vulcan mind meld. From age 9 to 58, things have remained the same--we still laugh at the same things, love the same things, and function the same way, more or less.


If nothing else in my life, I have had extraordinary friends. But this one, this lunatic of my childhood, is the best loved by far. And is she rare and handy? Need you ask? I love her muchly. (And if you ever run into Dottie, ask her about the "electrical" banana we stole one cold December night from a Christmas display downtown. And how she managed to ignite her bangs on the Bunsen burner in chemistry class, which she claims not to remember. But I do.)