I have a nice husband. When he works nights he frequently stops at one of our favorite bakeries (usually Joyce or Choice) on his way home and buys me croissants and muffins. This kind of behavior should be rewarded, no?
I made him the Brioche Scarf from Weekend Knitting this past winter, and intended to knit up the matching hat as well, but then it got warm. I thought I'd surprise him with the hat this fall, so I did the knitting in secret--a big chunk of it was done in the car to and from Rhinebeck, while Jess selflessly drove both ways! My plan was to then sneakily slide it into our hat n' glove drawer for him to discover on the first toque-worthy day. But access to that drawer was blocked by...oh, I don't even remember what; this is a frequent occurence lately as we babyprep the apartment. So I threw it on the coat rack instead. A few Saturdays past the requisite chill came, and as we were suiting up for the farmer's market I said, "You need a hat!" When he fished one out of his pocket (this one, actually) I insisted, "No, the one that matches your scarf! There, on the post." He donned it nonchalantly and off we went. "Well," I thought, "that went over like a lead balloon."
I brought along the camera, and on our way back from the market (obligatory Ronnybrook pick-up, complemented by cider and cider donuts) I had him pose for some documentation at the new entrance to the BBG. He acquiesced with good grace, but then when he started to feel a little self-conscious he asked, "Didn't you take pictures of this already, last winter?" "That was just the scarf," I protested, "the hat is new!" "Really?" Yes, really.
Hmmmph. Boys.
Brioche Hat, made from Lamb's Pride worsted. The contrast between the colors is subtler on the hat, I guess because of the stretching. I don't think I did the two-color cast-on quite right, but it did the job. And it isn't as reversible as I'd like, because despite being explicitly warned by Eleanor that the decreases are tricky, and making a mental note not to attempt them on the subway, I tackled them instead...during a Spider Friday at BG. Kaitlyn was sitting next to me struggling with some set-up rows; between the two of us we kept the air fairly peppered with curses. So there are some mistakes on the orange-rib side. I tried to point this out to Alex, but I can tell it's going to be a winter of me saying, "You've got it on wrong side out!"
Oh well. As long as he keeps me well-plied with buttery treats...
