cake flop

So, it’s my Mom’s 62nd birthday and I’m totally bummed because I didn’t finish the Rambling Rows Afghan I wanted to surprise her with. I had it all planned out about a month and a half before her birthday—plenty of time! Well, not for me…I must be the slowest knitter in the universe. I went to her house looked at all the colors in her living room, bought a box of colored pencils and strategically colored in an afghan layout with the five colors I chose for her beautiful, homemade birthday gift—this was going to be the best surprise ever. I didn’t even pick up another project although they kept calling to me from the other room…Christina you know you want to play with me...I ignored them all. I did, however, secretly read patterns planning my assault on my stash as soon as I finished the afghan. Well a few days before the big day, I realized I was defeated, so I picked up my needles and cast on an easy hat for my grandmother, who is 92, and always cold during a Southern California summer. It only took me an hour or two on big needles, so I wasn’t really cheating was I? Well, maybe I was. I decided to make up for my failure to finish by baking a cake from scratch! I found a recipe in Sunset Magazine and followed the directions exactly. I mixed everything in separate bowls, sifted the flower and powdered sugar, and mixed in the eggs and vanilla when called for instead of dumping everything in one bowl as usual. I was very proud. I didn’t even sneak-a-peak while the cake was baking--these babies were gonna rise to be big and strong! Imagine how sad I was to see two pancake like discs that weighed 5 pounds each arrive from the oven. I thought, well, they must taste good. So I made the frosting, wrapped the afghan, bought some flowers, and felt like I made a good effort. I was really hoping the cake would make up for everything. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I ended up leaving the flowers on my dining room table, the cake tasted like I frosted cardboard, and the afghan was incomplete…was this Karma? What had I done? I couldn’t be grandma’s hat…she was so happy with it. Yes I read patterns, but I didn’t make anything! But, then my mom opened the afghan, and although unfinished, her eyes glistened and a small wet spot appeared and her mascara smudged a little and I realized I didn’t do anything wrong…the afghan was all for her and she knew it. Love emanated from it and we rejoiced in my efforts and laughed at my failures and ate chocolate covered cardboard cake and wrapped ourselves in the half finished afghan.

knitting with the dodgers

Last Friday I went to Dodger Stadium with a Stitch N Pitch group out of Long Beach, and it was a blast. We took a bus from our LYS and my fellow dirty knitter, Diane, brought a bottle of wine and red plastic cups to help start the night off right. We cast on simple hats before we left, so we could knit without missing any of the game. As we eased back into our bus seats, we started drinking, knitting, and chatting, and enjoyed the ride. When we arrived with tickets in hand, we headed right to the food counter for Dodger dogs and beer, while my husband got a new Dodger cap trying to ignore all the yarn junkies blabbing about you know...Yarn! Knitting while eating dogs (I ate 2) and drinking ice cold beer and hanging out with good friends--yum. We also got some really cool gear from the Stich N Pitch organizers, so squeezing into our tiny seats with food, drinks, knitting bags, and free gear was a challenge, but definately worth it. As the Dodgers proceeded to get their asses kicked by the Astros, we knitted happily and said silent prayers for a miraculous come back but to no avail. It really didn't matter though...knitting and hanging out with good friends was enough.

Here is a link to a video KKAL/CBS did at Stitch N Pitch. Check it out (I'm in it for like a second), http://www.cbs2.com/video/?id=109050@Kcbs.dayport.com

Cheers,
the dirty knitter

dirty knitters unite

My friend Liz started calling me "dirty knitter" after I gave her a cute little pale green knitted cap...you know the one out of Stitch and Bitch Nation, the cabled newsboy cap, she loved it and instantly dubbed me "dirty knitter." I can hear her scratchy, alcohol induced drawl..."Yoooou Dirrrty Knnnitttrrrrr..." She knows I love dive bars, tattoos, and knitting. All I have to say is when all three are combined I'm in heaven...FUCK YEAH, but, what she doesn't know is that I love knitting the most. Knitting rocks, and maybe I am a little white trash; for example, my taste buds crave Coors light and cheap whiskey, but I also long for luxurious yarn. Dear Lord, I've only been knitting six years and I already have a stash the size of Emelda Marcos' shoe collection. What an oxymoron--dirty knitter. When I thought of knitting growing up I pictured little old ladies knitting their hundredth pair of slippers, or classy women working only with cashmere, or fishman's wives knitting Ganseys, but really, knitters are just regular people with an addiction worse than crack...YARN! I decided to start writing about my life as a knitter and yarn shop employee (discount yo!) because this is a place where I can blab about my yarn addition and knitting without boring all my non-knitter friends (even if they do like all the hats). So, if you're one who takes their knitting to the local pub, camping, or on Harley road trips come along for the ride as I write about my white trash adventures in knitting!

Cheers,
the dirty knitter