teamkaty

One less LYS to suck up my cash

  ...and vacillate 
  Originally uploaded by teamkaty

OK, that's it.  I know I've bitched about Seaport before, but seriously--I'm never going back.  Selection and price be damned: it's grotty, and they're rude.  I have no problem with a no-returns policy on yarn.  But if you DO take returns, please do it with good grace!

Some of you might be among the hundred or so people of whom I solicited an opinion about a contrast yarn for my BSJ.  I don't know why I was so waffly on this--while it's true that I pour syrup over many of my decisions, color generally isn't one of them.  But I couldn't make up my mind in the store between burgundy or pumpkin--no thanks to some snarky assvice from the owner--so I got both.  Eventually I settled on the burgundy, and decided to take the pumpkin back to exchange for a different color of Louet for yet another BSJ, this one for the monkeybaby.  Even-steven swap--same yarn (both in elderly packaging!), same price.  I'd kept my receipt, was inside the 30-day period, and had kept the yarn tidy.  No problem, right?

Ha.  There was eye-rolling and puffing.  There was, "Well, did you keep your receipt?"  And then there was an emphatic marking of the new skein, "to make sure you don't bring this back again."

No worries, lady.  Nothing and nobody is coming back again.  Life is too sort, and the Internet is too wide.  You don't have anything I can't get elsewhere with half the 'tude.

End rant!  The BSJ is looking great; I'll post some progress pics as soon as the morning light cooperates.

Labor done

  IMG_3982 
  Originally uploaded by teamkaty

As a holiday, Labor Day has been kind of lost to me in the past couple of years.  Its nicer significances--up the proletariat! Summer's last gasp! Hey, a day off!--have been subsumed by a different agenda: how to get the hell out of my neighborhood.  See, I'm one block away from the route of the West Indian Day Parade--New York's biggest.  When I lived at a safe distance, I loved this parade, primarily for the food (in all my years of attending, I have never managed to catch the impressive costumes--the timing of this event is best described as capricious).  Now it's more about subway closings, people pissing on my stoop, and hours of window-rattling music.

Having now officially come out as old and grumpy, let me say again, it's Labor Day!  My labors, let me show them to you!

Sandra's progress shots of her beautiful blue Marigolds reminded me that I never blogged my completed pair.  These socks were such a pleasure to knit--I eagerly snatched them back up as soon as my sockpal socks* were completed.  Still loving the happy combo of Pam's awesome pattern and Yarntini self-striping.  I did mine toe-up; Sandra's are top-down and I think that may work a little better. The keen-eyed may notice that while the striping and pattern match almost exactly on my feet, some fudging may have been involved on the legs.  Call it artistic license. 

While I am confessing, I will also admit that I frogged twice to get the heels centered.  Because I can be anal like that.  But all that practice served to improve my short-row heel technique--no holes!

OK, the helicopters have been circling since 11:30 and more noise is yet to come.  There are other FOs I need to write about, but for now I'm going to shut up the apartment, apologize to the cats, and flee.  Happy Labor Day, everyone!

*Speaking of which, I got a lovely email from my pal.  Look, her socks fit perfectly!  Obviously her calves are slimmer than mine. 

Hmm, her floors are nicer, too...

Knitters can be jerks, too

There is a special place in hell reserved for people who cut pages out of knitting books from the library.  It costs, what, ten cents to make a photocopy?  Assholes.

Subjective Snottiness

This article in the Times made me feel dirty.  Not that I've ever spent $600 dollars on jeans, mind you--I think my record is $110, including tax.  But still--is it art?  Self-expression?  Or is it JUST TOO MUCH DISPOSABLE INCOME?  My use of RabiCaps would indicate I lean towards the latter.

Then again, yesterday I made a pit stop by Purl, which is to yarn stores what Dean and Deluca is to your average stop n' rob.  That is to say, located in Soho and full of mouth-watering treats you never knew you needed--really needed--at outrageous prices (the Rowan yarn that I needed cost $3 more than what I paid in Brooklyn; almost 50%).  On the other hand, it's smaller than D&D, tourist-free, and staffed by some very nice, knowledgeable and not too Sohooty folks. 

The thing with yarn (as compared to ligonberry-estlethwaite curd in wee jars) is that if you're like me, you can conveniently forget that you're buying a luxury item because of all the time and finger-crampery you're going to put into it.  Which is quite possibly rubbish.  If I end up spending $70 on a baby sweater, and then it doesn't get worn, it's no sillier an expenditure (except in scale) than luxury blue jeans, is it? You'd have to factor in my entertainment value, of course, and...but I'm wading into economics now, and really I'm not dressed appropriately for that today.

What I'm getting around to here--wait for it--is that Purl stocks this really fabulous self-striping sock yarn from Lorna's Laces, and of course now I have these grandiose plans of making all my own socks.  Socks that will cost $20 a pair, not counting labor.

For lo, they were not wealthy, yet they had funky feet.