Last year, when Edison Elementary held its second annual EdFest† Silent Auction fundraiser, I went. I bought. I volunteered to donate a knitted item this year.
Last Monday, Brother contacted me and said, "I know it's short notice, but Saturday is EdFest."‡
There's a lot of disorganisation and misorganisation and drunkenness§ in the spaces between, but keeping a long story short,¶ I volunteered to give a gift certificate for a scarf.
Thus:
For those of you who don't read mangledese, it says "One pick-your-own-adventure scarf: I'll sit down with the winner over a cup of coffee, a beer or a glass of wine (my treat) and we'll design a scarf for you. Pick your fiber, texture and colour and I'll make it all come true."
Lisa, the appropriate committee member, asked if I had pictures or samples to go with the bid sheet. I sent some pics off Ravelry, but, of course, I don't keep anything I knit.
This whole exchange took place Thursday afternoon.
Thursday night, I had one of my frighteningly brilliant ideas:# find the school mascot and colours and knit a scarf for a toy version of the mascot in those colours. Y'know... just to have something tangible on the table.
Don't think I wasn't hoping they were the Edison R2D2s.††
Turns out they're the Edison Eagles, and their colours are blue and gold-yellow, much like my beloved Denver Nuggets.‡‡
I woke up early Friday knowing I had to find an eagle.§§ Fortunately, as an inveterate shopper with two nephews, I had a good idea of where to find a stuffed eagle.
Bless you, Kazoo & Company.
I ran to a couple of yarn stores.¶¶
At 2:00, I was home, done with lunch and casting on.
Perhaps the next time I'm on a tight deadline, I'll remember that it's not the best time to try a new technique.
At 1:00 Saturday morning, I gave up my double-knitting project. It wasn't horrible. It was just in dire need of blocking,## and I knew there was no way I'd finish the scarf, soak it and have it completely dry before I had to take it to Lisa on Saturday afternoon.
So... I got up at 7:00 Saturday morning and started knitting a new - simpler - scarf for the eagle.
Ta-daaa!
When we got to the fundraiser at 7:00, there was a bid down on the scarf, which tickled the grits out of me, as I wasn't sure how it would represent in a bidding situation. Brother noted that he was up-bidding it because he decided he needed a scarf.†††
In the end, it turned out someone outbid Brother, so I'm feeling all HKIC and shit.%
When the Auction Committee sobers up and tells me who won the scarf, I'll let y'all know. Sounds like it could be fun.‡‡‡
Plus, I'd already told Brother he had the hook-up even if he didn't win the auction scarf.§§§
So, sing it with me: "STILL A KNITBLOG."
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): "EdFest" in my world has a whole lot more Tom Cavanaugh in it, but that's OK.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Paraphrasing. Brother was more cognizant than that.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Oddly enough, not on my part. The mis-, the dis- OR the drunk.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): As my college boyfriend always said, "Too late."
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I'm not tooting my own horn. It's not that I have ideas so brilliant as to be frightening. No, it's that the ideas that seem so brilliant pan out to be ironically, sarcastically so and it's frightening I continue to believe in my own brilliance.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Think of it... one tiny Star Wars action figure with a couple of tufts of blue and gold yarn...
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Which led to a funny moment at Fancy Tiger when a very sweet (possibly gay, probably artistic, undoubtedly oblivious to sports) boy asked if he could help and I told him I was looking for fingering- or sport-weight yarn in blue and gold, like Denver Nuggets colours. I could almost hear the panic shutting down his organs. He pointed out every skein of yarn in the right gauge, I suspect hoping I'd make up my own mind about what "Denver Nuggets colours" meant.
§§FOOTNOTE (double confusing): There is nothing quite like waking up on your day off knowing you have to find an eagle.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (double the fun): I found my yarn at the first store, but as my brother says, I have a problem. Plus, I have a very weird upcoming knitting project (foreshadowing!) I wanted to get a jump on. In a very researchy, I-probably-didn't-need-to-buy-six-sets-of-square-needles way.
##FOOTNOTE (double the pounds): AntiM's helpful knitting tip #237: Double-knitting pulls the knitted piece in (much like cabling does) and makes your very straight scarf look like an hourglass.
†††FOOTNOTE (is it Lent again already?): Because His Girl Cindy told him he should get a scarf to go with his new Hugo Boss cashmere jacket and he made grumpy faces and stuff. Then he went to NYC and saw that everybody was wearing a scarf and decided it wasn't a bad idea.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Head Knitta in Charge, in case you forgot.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (Frankenstein's blogster): Or a complete nightmare. But I'm an optimist. Or, as Cornel West said on Twitter, "But I'm not an optimist, that's too thin...I'm a prisoner of #hope."
§§§FOOTNOTE (three esses make a full circle, right?): When we discussed particulars, it boiled down to "a tweedy/heathered charcoal in a muffler length." Then I got an update from Colourmart (home of all things cashmere) Sunday mid-day that said they had a shipment of Hugo Boss cashmere just in. So even though Brother didn't win the scarf, Brother absolutely won a scarf. Here's the yarn; its colour is called "Derby":
7 comments:
My heart skips a beat, for heathered Charcoal.
And, now I want an eagle.
(Moo!)
so, I mentioned to Mooflower, but not to you: my aunt is maybe starting a yarn store. this feels like an odd concatenation to me.
It just so happens I know where to find an eagle. He's very, very soft. I say, "he," because in my head, he's become Eddie the Eagle.
Anyway...
Jeffe, the Universe may be telling you to knit. It seems certain disparate bits of your life point in that direction.
Is your aunt in Denverish, by chance?
The Sainthood thing was going SO well. And then, "HNIC and shit."
Look, you have to work WITH me on this campaign, not AGIN me!
I like to think sainthood isn't based upon language. Then again, I like to think sainthood is akin to a rewards program.
A prisoner of hope. I like that. It's a much more accurate depiction of life in the 21st century.
The marvelous thing is that Cornel West really means it... unironically, unsarcastically and with all heartfelt sincerity.
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