Fricknits

The Nicest Nest

Biscuit keeps asking me to read Olivier Dunrea's Ollie these days.  The Dunrea books are really cute, if completely formulaic.  This one's about a gosling, Ollie, who "won't come out" of his egg.  That is, until Gossie and Gertie, his buddies on the outside, finally give up asking him to come out and tell him NOT to come out.  Reverse psychology for preschoolers.

Fricklet seems to be following suit, though it's not for lack of a lovely place to land.  His room may just be the most fantastic spot in the house, full of crafty goodness.  This post is for all you voyeurs out there.

This time around I was wiser to the ways of Etsy and avoided the lure of the mass-made "crib sets."  I bought a bumper from Jesseca over at Quilt Baby.  I think it looks just lovely there by the window, together with Fricklet's Blankie, now backed and tied by my lovely friend Doris, don't you?

Coordinates quite well with One Fish, Two Fish, and that sweet little Wee Wonderfuls bear that my lovely Adri made. (She's in labor right now, people- as I type this!  Send smooth delivery vibes!)

Now, I apologize in advance for the many shades of green you may turn when you see this next photo.  Steel yourselves:

Recognize it?  Greening up yet?  Check out the other angle:

People, I had no idea.  Really.  I wasn't being coy when I commented on that post that I'd stop reading her blog if she didn't take commissions.  I wasn't trying to bribe her when I sent her that orange Cork yarn. The fact that I've nominated her for the MacArthur Genius Award and offered her my second-born child (she refused) is completely irrelevant.  This was a completely random act of incredible generosity on Ashley's part.  People, I cried when I opened it.  Oh, how perfectly this quilt coordinates with Tulane, handmade by the lovely, the talented, Maritza. Oh, how happy it makes my heart.

Looky!  It even makes a lovely backdrop for the artwork this little guy's inheriting from his big brother.  These little animals were handpainted by a local artist.  Hippo butt!  Giraffe butt!  Monkey...face!  Well, they can't all be backsides.

And here we have a sizeable stack o' handknits.  Lurking beneath the Haba toys (Chinese plastic is OUT, or have you heard) are two lovely bibs and one burp cloth all handknit by Amisha.  Basking in the glow of the monkey lamp are two hats handknit by Haley (holy alliterative handknits, Batman!) and one skein of Artyarns sent by Heather for an as-yet-to-be-determined Frickletknit.  Suggestions welcome!  Hidden behind the handknits is a small CD player loaded up with this album sent by Kelly.  There is a track on this album called "Your Attitude Towards Cuttlefish."  What's yours?

And finally, grandpa came over and hung the artwork this weekend, which was also a gift from my *rightthismomentinlabor* friend Adri.  Plenty of visual stimulation here for everyone.

So Fricklet?  DON'T COME OUT!

Let's see if that works.

 

Vesuvius

Thanks to those of you who have written wondering if the Fricklet is yet with us here on the Big Outside. Not yet, friends!  However, the doc told me yesterday that he thinks I could "go at any time," which prompted the name of this post.  (Thanks, Tim!)  In case thinking about dilation and effacement and cervical softening gives you the heebie-jeebies (and if it does, I apologize for the beginning of this sentence), here's another way to interpret this post's title:

Mmmmm...Manos leftovers masquerading as Mountain of Melting Ice Cream.  Now that's an eruption I could get behind.  (Happy coincidence: this ice cream's name, Neapolitan, comes from the city closest to Vesuvius, Naples!  I love it when a post comes together.)

The due date's the 23rd.  The Biscuit was 8 days early.  My days of pickles and ice cream draw to a close.  Guess I'd better get 'em while the getting's good!  Fiberlicious!

When Stash Attacks

This post is for Ashley, who wants pie.

Homemade pumpkin pie by me.
Squishy sock yarn goodness in coordinating colors by Koigu.

Now don't blink, or you might miss this:

Homemade pumpkin pie by me.
Squishy sock yarn goodness in coordinating colors by Dani at Sunshine Yarns.

I know this has happened to many of us.  "Orange and brown!"  I thought, as I ordered from Dani for a pair of Endpaper Mitts.  "Orange and brown!" I gasped in Purl, as I snatched up souvenir yarn on our trip to NYC in April.

My. Stash. Is. Too. Big.

There, I said it.

Fiberlicious!

Oh, the Irony

The girl with the enormous stash is down on her knees.  Does anyone out there perchance have two or three balls of Classic Elite Skye Tweed in color 1275, "Dungeon," that they'd be willing to sell me?  (My dye lot is 4037, but I'm not too picky.  I already called WEBS and they're OUT.)  I have two and a half balls and need more in order to realize my dream of a Tomten for Biscuit to match his daddy's Cobblestone.

Oh, please be my knight/damsel in shining wool.

*Don't worry.  Cobblestone is safely finished.  Poor weather is keeping photographs at bay, but I'm hoping to have it for you tomorrow!

The Password is: SMUG

Yes, by now you know it.  That's me with the Smuggy McSmugerson self-satisfied smile and the bodacious ruffles.  Some of you guessed it because you think I resemble the Biscuit, while others probably nailed it on the hair.  No one, I'm guessing, jumped into the way back machine to this post, which would have been a sure giveaway.  But then you still would have had to figure out Crybaby Christy and "She's Got the Whole World in Her Hands" Ashley to win the Big Box o' Goodies.

Believe me when I tell you that all three of us were sad not to have included separate prizes for captions.  The emails were flying fast and furious between us as we obsessively checked each other's sites for new ones.  Distracted by a fan?  No, SHE had ruffles?  Surprises in my diaper?  Hidden keys and stolen Addis?  A future photographing pastries snuggled up to booties?  Or perhaps that smug look in my eye meant I was about to tell you what NOT to read.  (And Daphne, you and only you will forever be allowed to call me "Sweetcheeks."  But that's just because you made me a rockin' mix.)  But hey- we aren't made of prizes, right?  So we stuck to the original plan.

Revealed: our super-scientific method for winner-choosing.  Biscuit and I put all of your names into his new favorite toy, the salad "rocket" spinner, and gave you a whirl.  (A word of advice: never give toys at a baby shower.  Who needs all that garish plastic when your own kitchen provides endless amusement?  Give diapers or handknits.)  And the winner is....INGRID!  Shoot me an email, Ingrid, and please include as many words that begin with "p" as possible.

By the way, speaking of smug, that there in the photo is my favorite birthday card ever.  It was sent to me by my buddy Hanny, for whom I have knit socks.  So you know she's way up there in my estimation.

Smug Girl #1:  Where's your birthday party at?
Smug Girl #2: Don't end a sentence with a preposition.
(Inside card:)
Smug Girl #1: Where's your birthday party at, bitch?

Oh, she's got my grammar-police scanner number, she does.

This was so much fun.  Thanks for playing!  Crybaby?  Mr. Perot?  This time again next year?  I'm totally up for it.

I Was Born in a Crossfire Hurricane

* RELUCTANTLY, AS YOU ALL ARE KILLING ME WITH THESE HYSTERICAL CAPTIONS, COMMENTS ON THIS POST ARE NOW CLOSED.  OFF TO WORK ON COBBLESTONE!  STAY TUNED TOMORROW FOR THE EXCITING CONCLUSION OF BIRTHDAY BLOG-STRAVAGANZA!*

Nixon resigned.  Patty Hearst was kidnapped.  Ali knocked out Foreman.  The string bikini was all the rage.  And at exactly midnight on August 11-12, my mother babbled about how much she liked potatoes (she had the good drugs) and the doctor said, "Whoops!" as he almost dropped me, and I was born.  Then my dad tried to have me circumcised.  Seems he dabbled in the good drugs, too.

Thanks to all of you for the birthday wishes!  It was both better and worse than expected.  Among the things that made it better: my sister brought the baby up and took me to Origins for a mini-spree, I received a love letter from Mr. Frick, I collected many birthday greetings and e-cards and shout-outs from youse guys, and I had tacos for lunch.  Among the things that made it worse: very little time to knit, raisin bran for dinner, and no cake.  (I remedied this by making myself- what else- a pumpkin pie last night.)

Summer's bad for blogging and knitting- let's just admit it.  But still, I've been overwhelmed as I've thought recently about how much having this blog, and through it getting to know you and becoming a part of this incredible community, has changed my life.  You all make me laugh, and think, and wonder, and buy try new things.  You've sent gifts and good wishes and jokes and wisdom my way.  And as a gal who was always uncomfortable in large groups and did better with just a few close friends, I suddenly feel surrounded by smart, funny, creative, quirky, like-minded souls and I'm loving every bit of this crowded house.  I hope I've been able to give as well as I've received.  And to that end...BIRTHDAY CONTEST AHOY!

Christy, who shares my birthday, and Ashley, who shares my brain, are running this Birthday Blogstravaganza contest with me.  The prize packages, one offered on each blog, include one of Ashley's clutches (mine's the stripey one with a former Tar-zhey life), a custom t-shirt from Christy, two sets of Jenny Hart embroidery patterns and a pretty array of floss from yours truly, plus the sock yarn of that blogger's choice (mine's the chocolate cherry confection pictured in the post below). Four prizes in one box!  Is your heart all a-twitter yet?

Here's what you gotta do to win one of the three Big Boxes: Identify who's who in the photos below.  One's Ashley, one's Christy, and one's me.  Though I know you're tempted to guess Karl Rove on #1, Ross Perot on #2, and Rush Limbaugh on #3.  Ashley says: "The difference is that we grew up to be, well, us, and they stayed big fathead babies.  Cuteness advantage: us."

Please, pretty-please feel free to include captions.  It would make my day.

Baby #1:

Baby #2:

Baby #3:

Good luck!  I strongly recommend you visit all three blogs' contest posts before entering in order to ensure that you (a) enter for the prize you like best and (b) in the very likely case that the others have been clearer than I about what this contest entails. PLEASE follow these rules or we'll take you out behind the woodshed/disqualify your sweet behind:

Feel free to leave birthday wishes, comments, and general adulation on all three blogs, but please enter on one blog only.  (Perhaps the one with the yarn or clutch offering you like best?)  The contest will run August 14-16, and winners will be announced on the 17th.  Each birthday girl will choose her own method of winner-picking.  Because, as the old saw goes, you can pick your winner, and you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your friend's nose.  Or winner.

Now go forth and win stuff!
 

...and I'll Cry if I Want To

Tomorrow is my birthday, and for the second year in a row, Mr. Frick will be heading out of town.  His reasons are legit- he's accepting a Major Award (sadly not as home decor-iffic as this one)- but I am no less bummed.  The pouting began a couple of weeks ago, and on Saturday Mr. Frick and the Biscuit went out on a mysterious errand and came back with the edible half of this:

Fiberlicious!  That's Claudia Hand Painted Yarns in Chocolate Cherry and my birthday cake, a dark chocolate and cherry brandy confection from the Heidelberg Pastry Shoppe. 

The cards began to arrive today and things brightened up a bit more, as my lovely Jane (the most creative and- dammit, girl!- tragically blogless gal know) decided to see to it that, though I can't see my toes, they would be beautifully cared for with a pedicure in the near future.  My parents anted up two Friday night "sleepover tickets" for the Biscuit (translated = Cobblestone time), Beth and I are working out a playdate to ease the loneliness, and I've convinced my sister to bring the baby up on Saturday.  So all is well.  And the icing on the cake?  I've touched birthday tiaras together with this gal and this one, and in a Wonder Triplets explosion of bloggy Leo goodness, we've come up with a little something for all of you!  Stay tuned here, there, and there for posts on the 14th.  You may, if you're lucky, end up with the fiberliciousness pictured above.  But not the cake.  I ate that.

This just in.  Birthday flowers, too.  The pouting- it works.

And If It Was Warm, I Wouldn't Wear Much More

I don't know if Adam was a Fricknits reader way back then, but he sure has my number.  Fiberlicious!

Raspberry Sorbet by Ciao Bella.  Raspberry Sherbet (you say tomato...) Yarn Nerd 900 MHz Merino Sock.  An early birthday gift from Adam, whose yarn is on sale AND who will next be shipping...on my birthday!  Perfect as a Prince lyric.

Nuttin, Honey

Especially For Megan:  Finally, I'm Fiberlicious!

Of course, then we had to spill some and run our fingers through it.  Don't worry, Adam!  No Yarn Nerd was stick-ied in the making of this photo!

We're off to the mountains, and I'm taking the denim log cabin blanket with me, as seems appropriate.  Wish me knitting time in the porch swing, and I hope you all have a fiberlicious and fabulous weekend!

On the Shoulders of Giants

I spent the weekend in girls-only bliss.  There was fantastic Malaysian food.  There was a whole disk of "Angel" and another of "Grey's Anatomy."  There was one late night (past midnight!) and one brunch at which I discovered the taste sensation that is walnuts and honey.  There was minimal knitting, but there was monumental finishing.  As in, one of my UFOs from Hell was transformed into a thing of, "if not a beauty, at least it's still Rowan."  Check her out!

I'm folded up so you can't see my bedraggled behind.

Yes, she crocheted.  Poorly.  But an edging nonetheless.  Still, Ann, you've not got me convinced I can follow in your footsteps.  Yet!

I am large, and stretchy.  A baby will love, abuse, and ruin me.  That is my fate.
Technically, though, this isn't a true FO.  It is an AFO, because I myself have farmed out the actual Effing to Doris, a good friend's mother who is a master seamstress.  She will back this monster so that no one but the two of us will ever have to know what lurks beneath the "right side."  The woman is a giant of stitch-witchery. 

Yarn Nerd Merino Sock in Dallas and Raspberry Sherbet.

If you've been reading for a little while, you might know that I self-identify as a member of the Nerd Herd.  The Smarty Party.  The Poindexter Patrol.  So it makes my pocket protector bounce up and down that I'm now the proud owner of some of Adam's yarn!  I bought the yellow-brown Dallas for myself as an early birthday present (watch for this to become a theme), and Adam, lovely Adam, sent me the other as a birthday gift.  Giant of generosity!

I am wee!  I am wonderful!  I totally go with the Fricklet's decor!

Like I always say, surround yourself with craftsy people and then start dropping hints.  Doris, Adam, and now my sweet Adri have all fallen into this trap.  I gifted Adri, who sews, the Wee Wonderfuls pattern book to make this little guy a while back.  How could she not then churn one out for the Fricklet?  And she's got another in the works for the Biscuit, as she knows all too well the already-very-real stress of managing sibling rivalry.  Giant kisses, Adri!

And to round out the perfect weekend, did you see j a r e d's Interweave pattern?  Hot-not-yet-off-the-press, and enticing enough to encourage me to employ some knitterly logic and buy myself another birthday present- the requisite Skye Tweed- in order to make this for Mr. Frick.  I need not remind you all what a giant  j a r e d is.

I am two presents in one!

Like I said, surround yourself with your giants of choice.  You never know when they'll offer a shoulder.  The view is AWESOME from up here!