Stuff I knit 2009

Peace Baby
Revenge of the Mummy Socks
Baby Drops Sweater
Eleanor
Pillowcase Dresses, technically these are sewn
Whisper Cardigan
Fourth of July Dresses, these are sewn too.
Crocheted Hats, a failure of epic proportions
Hermione's Cables and Bobbles Hat
Tooth Fairy Bag

Merry Christmas!

12 Years

Happy Anniversary Baby!

(Photo taken last night courtesty of Pork Chop)

12 years.

Man, we're getting old.

Good thing we married so young.

We haven't always had it easy. I can think of a few anniversaries where we sat together in silence wondering if we would make it another year. But at the end of the day it is always just me and you. Despite all the things life throws at us. (and a few things we've done to ourselves) All that stuff, to quote a wise friend of mine, "is just noise." It will never matter as much as the important stuff.

Me and You.

Always.

I love you!

Holiday Cheer

She has it!

Just Another Friday Night

Last night I was sitting at our table working on a project. . .

Now I can sit and knit in any corner of the house for hours upon hours. And with the exception of the baby (yes, Bezzie, she's STILL the baby lol) nobody pays me any attention unless they're hungry. I've got quite a few corners around the house where I can hide and knit. But take a seat at the kitchen table and no matter what they were doing before I sat at the table, suddenly everyone must gather round. It is not a phenomenon I understand. I'm working on a theory that they're hoping that since I'm at the table there might be food involved. But it is only the beginning of a theory. Another theory I have is maybe they've all learned not to interrupt me when I'm knitting but all bets are off when I am engaged in other activities. I think this might be a more viable theory, but I digress.

So there I was at the table, and before I knew it the girls had gathered round. Sweet Pea alternated between sitting on my lap and coloring. The other two were busy with the markers. Meaty was no where to be seen. I'm guessing he was upstairs "hunting" on the X-Box.

Enter The Greatest stage left.

He had been to the range and needed to clean his handgun. Normally he does this on the floor in front of the TV, but I guess since everyone else was at the table he felt the need to join the party.

Before I knew it the girls had abandoned their art and commenced with "helping" Daddy.

If only I could get them to help me clean so cheerfully!

Once upon a time, in another life, I was afraid of guns. The thought of my sweet children so casually handling gun pieces would have sent me into a panic attack. Funny how things change. Now it was just another Friday night.

And Me? What was I doing at the table?

I'm not ready to talk about it yet (not because it is a secret, its just a long story) but I can tell you I didn't touch the gun.

I was busy with other things.

Friday Loving

I'm loving . . .

Yet another child who thinks she can hide in the fridge . . .

She stands there and drinks the Hershey's Syrup straight from the bottle. And she thinks I don't know she's doing it. But I do. And mostly I'm just jealous.

My Swing . . .

Remember this?

Well, now it looks like this!

Some new canvas, upholstry thread, and swearing, and I've got my swing back. I love everthing about it. I love the color on the fabric, the pattern, the way the pattern is accidentally perfectly centered, the fact that it holds my body weight. I love my swing.

Handknit baby hats . . .

She recently wore this hat at the Grand Canyon. And I got a ridiculous amount of compliments on it. Makes me feel all skilled and stuff.

And finally, I love Bird's art . . .

She says it is a chicken.

A Perfect Weekend Indeed!

The children were so happy to be with Daddy...

They didn't realize he was using them as a form of cheap manual labor.

And I.....

Need buttons for Pork Chop's new sweater.

The Triumphant Return of Saturday!

Speaking of things you can count on, when we moved here three years ago I resigned myself to the fact that we would never have a normal schedule again. Due to the nature of his job The Greatest would almost always work nights/weekends/holidays/unusual schedules.

This was fine.

We enjoyed his company when he was home and we made the rest up as we went along. We discovered how nice it is to grocery shop on a Monday afternoon, the stores are delightfully empty but the produce choices can be sketchy. We also found out Thanksgiving can be served on Wednesday without the Holiday Police bashing down our door and confiscating the cranberry sauce. And did you know Santa will sometimes send an Elf to deliver presents a day early so Daddy can enjoy the joy of "Christmas Morning"?

All of this is fine and even fun. It all seemed to fit perfectly with the insanity that is the rest of our lives.

Isn't everyone else just making it up as they go along?

But lo and behold The Greatest got a promotion. He prefers to be addressed as "Detective" now, Thank You Very Much! I'm so proud of him. With this unexpected promotion came a very unexpected schedule change. Barring any dead bodies, or armed robberies, or other acts of criminal deviance, The Greatest is once again working Banker's Hours!

Home for dinner. Here for bath time. Bring on the lazy weekends.

A few hours spent working our children like house elves, then the rest of the day is all college football, grilled meat, too much junk food, video games, and of course, casting on for a new knitting project.

Because finishing old knitting projects on a lazy Saturday would feel too much like work.

Just Like Clockwork

Something you can depend on. You just know they are going to happen every single day. The familiarness of it all can be quite comforting. When times are uncertain I need these gentle reminders that life is the same.

I know that no matter what else happens I can count on the fact that....

Each day will come to an end, without fail, usually with a beautiful sunset. And the children will go to sleep. I can forgive them for all they've done that day when they're safely tucked into their beds for night.

Every day after school my son must spend some alone time here. EVERY SINGLE DAY. Right after school. Even on early release day. And you must not interrupt him or it makes for an unpleasant evening.

At any given moment I will have a pile of knits in my closet that are in desperate need for some finishing work. Most of these items will never make the blog.

And Every Single Year, without fail, Pork Chop will be made Student of the Month!

Her Teacher must have decided not to fight the inevitable and just give Pork Chop the award first thing this year. At the award breakfast her Teacher confessed that she wished she could clone Pork Chop and have a whole class just like her. I love being the parent of "That Child."

Congratulations Pork Chop. Daddy and I are so proud of you!

Welcome October!

Why Hello Blog, my beloved friend.

You are so good to me, always patiently waiting for me to come and visit with you. Never pressuring me. Just faithfully waiting. You deserve so much more than I have given lately. I apologise for that.

All summer long you were left out. I apologise for that too.

I spent lots of the summer thinking "Enjoy this while it lasts."

A sense of foreboding has been following me. I feel the need to enjoy every smile from my children, every belly laugh with a good friend, every stolen moment with The Greatest. Not just in the enjoy and live in the moment kind of thinking, but to really consciously commit it to memory, to lock away every second, the light, the sound, the smell, every tiny bit of it. The joy, the frustration, the love. These are the good days, the cherished memories. Someday I will pull these memories out of my mind, dust them off, and smile fondly as I remember this special summer. I don't know what is on the horizon that made this summer so especially special, but I feel it, change is a-coming. Good times must be balance by challenge. We only improve in the refiners fire. This summer felt like a respite from harsher times, the calm in the eye of the storm, but only a moment of breathing room, not an actual end to the trails. I felt unusually grateful for every minute of it.

So in the midst of all this laughing and smiling and kissing I was just a little too busy for the blog.

When I woke up this morning I stepped outside and realized it was a might bit chilly (72 degree, I know, feel free to mock), and the calendar say October 1st. It occurred to me that despite the high temperature I know are coming today, and despite the absence of pretty colored foliage, it is Fall, with a capital F. And because it is October 1st, it is officially the start of what I consider to be "The Holiday Season!"

I love The Holiday Season. It is simply my favorite time of year. You get Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas all back to back to back. Candy, Comfort Food, and Presents! What's not to love about that?

And I'm ready for every second of it.

Hard times are already back. September was such a horrible month I'm glad it is over! The less said about it the better. The best thing I can say about it is I'm glad I lived through it with The Greatest. He is my rock, and my best friend, and my soul mate (and I don't believe in soul mates). I hope that no matter what else comes our way we remember to continue to go through it together.

As far as I can see times are hard for everyone. Everyone I know is just trying their best to survive. I'm a worrier by nature. I have to worry. I have to ponder the worst case scenario and prepare. I have to be prepared. I worry about those I love. But all these things that are keeping me up at night are simply out of the realm of what I can control. For some reason the universe won't put me in charge, so all this stuff I just can't fix or change. It must simply be endured.

So while I'm enduring I'm going to focus on the good stuff. I'm going to take The Holiday Season and focus on more of the good stuff. And I've decided to take you along for the ride dear blog.

Some of the Summer was so happy when I tried to blog it felt like I was bragging, and I don't mean to boast or brag. If you've been around my blog long enough you know I show you all the ugly parts, not just the pretty shiny surface. For a simple knitting blog I can sometimes get quite deep. I knew of several friends who were having the worst summer ever and I hated to so publicly state that my life felt picture perfect when I knew they were struggling so hard with their own challenges. It seemed insensitive to their trials. The contrast seemed cruel. But my life isn't picture perfect. The Greatest and I fight. The kids whine, oh how they can whine. I don't think I cleaned the kids bathroom all summer, that was definitely not picture perfect. We have bills that may or may not be getting paid on time, my checking account is most definitely not picture perfect. But all summer long I had all these little slices of perfect happiness. These little moments of pure joy. I still hate to mention it. I'm debating erasing the paragraph and trying to write my point again with out sounding so boastful.

So what is my point?

My point is simply this I've decided to be happy.

The End.

I've also decided not to apologise for being happy and Pollyanna-ish, and looking for the bright side. (see I left my boastful paragraph, I'm trying so hard to not apologise).

And I'm taking my blog along for the ride.

You've been there to laugh with me, to cry with me, to mourn with me, to change with me, and you should get to celebrate these little perfect slices with me too!

So here's to a Joyous Holiday Season! On tap for October: Costumes, Candy, Visiting Relatives, and, in case you hadn't noticed, PUMPKINS!

And then there are days like today...

Sometimes there are days when knitting just works.

Everything magically clicks into place and knitting is the relaxing hobby it is meant to be. The yarn is beautiful. The colors are deep and mesmerizing. You've saved this yarn for two years before finding the PERFECT pattern to knit with it. After two years one wonders if the yarn is really that good. Can it live up to the hype? And let me assure you it does. It effortlessly flows through you hands. The colors, oh the colors. I love to watch them appear and change before my eyes. And the pattern. The pattern is challenging enough to hold your interest but not so taxing it makes you want to pull your hair out. As you knit a sock magically appears before your eyes. You get to take pleasure in the process of creating. The children are even behaving as you knit. Everything is as it should be.

Until you realize that will all the mesmerizing and waxing poetic about knitting you missed this.

Did you see that right there? Let me circle it for you.

A dropped stitch.

Sometimes there are days when knitting just doesn't seem worth it.

The more things change the more they stay the same.

Behold the dreaded "Potty Chair"

How I hate the potty chair. But seeing as how Sweet Pea has taken to removing her diaper when she poops without telling anyone, and I'm so very tired of having her sit on my lap with a poopy butt resulting in a rousing game of "find all the other places Sweet Pea has sat" I think it is time.

I know I've already said it, but I feel so strongly about this I'm going to say it again. I HATE the potty chair. Just something about cleaning it out gets to me. I managed to train Bird directly on the real potty just to avoid cleaning the potty chair. But Sweet Pea is so very small I know she won't feel comfortable on the big potty just yet.

I hate the potty chair.

As she wandered around last night all nuddie booty I was struck by just how slim she has become. How tall and lean her body is getting. She seems to be skipping the toddler phase and moving right into a little girl's body.

It seemed just yesterday I was wandering around unable to take a shower because she needed to be cuddled every minute of every day.

And now I wander around unable to take a shower because if I leave her unattended for a single second she paints the tile with nail polish, or gives herself a tribal tattoo with a sharpie.

*sigh* As I type this she just tried to wander into the living room with a stolen pen. How is it I can never find a pen or a sharpie when I need one, but she seems to know where they all are?

My baby is growing. It makes me wistful and sad. What a shame I can't talk The Greatest into giving her a baby brother. I've already used my "just one more" card. He isn't going to fall for that line again. I guess I'd better prepare to move on to the next stage of life. Can anyone tell me what the next stage is?

Oh, Monkey See......

Well, I finally feel like we are falling into the new rhythm of busy school year combined with The Greatest's new work schedule. There are still a few bugs and kinks to work out, but a new "normal" is emerging. This is good. As I get older I find myself grooving on quiet normal days. It sounds ordinary and boring, and it might be. But trust me, the children find all kinds of new and inventive ways to "mix it up" and keep my on my toes. (Does anyone know how to get crayon out of my lovely new table cloth?)

Sweet Pea no longer fusses as the older children leave for school. Instead she contently waves them "bye-bye" throwing in a few kisses for good measure. She has discovered that life with Mommy is not so bad. There is unfettered access to all the toys, hours of book reading, afternoon swims where no one splashes her, peaceful trips to run errands where she is the center of attention, and even the occasional lunch out. Its not such a bad gig. And despite my best intentions I am beginning to understand why the youngest always ends up so spoiled.

I fear she might be spending just a little too much time alone with me.

Friday, after the older children had left for school, I turned on Dora to keep Sweet Pea company as I attended to a few chores. Sweet Pea usually watches for a bit, joins me in my chores for a bit, wanders back to Dora for a bit. Its all good.

As I unloaded the dishwasher (a favorite chore of Sweet Pea's) her absence was quite noticeable. I peeked around the corner to make sure everything was alright. She was contently sitting on the couch watching Dora WITH MY KNITTING ON HER LAP. I tried not to hyperventilate. The project in question was a shawl with roughly eleventy billion stitches on the needle. I was currently in a middle of short row shaping with picked up stitches, and lots of stitch markers, and did I mention the eleventy billion stitches. If she pulled out the needle, or even dropped a bunch of stitches it would be disastrous. I knew I would never get it back together right and would likely have to start over or abandon the entire project.

Fearfully I crept closer to peek over the back of the couch and assess the damage. I silently prayed that she had simply pulled it onto her lap for warmth. As I drew nearer this is what I saw.

Notice that the needles are in her hand. She was very slowly rubbing them back and forth against one another as she watched TV.

In her little mind she was KNITTING! Knitting as she watched TV, just like Mommy. I'm not sure if I'm proud or embarrassed. My sweet baby girl. Could I love her anymore?

It turns out I could.

She didn't drop any of my stitches.

This Episode of Friday Loving Has Been Pre-Empted

Today was supposed to be a very special episode of Friday Loving brought to you by Sweet Pea. But I fear another momentous occasion has occurred that takes priority over cute pictures of her shoes (and they are oh so cute).

Meaty has had a loose tooth for WEEKS. He wiggles it constantly, worrying it back and forth with his finger or his tongue. Every time we caught him sitting there wiggling his tooth we told him to just pull it out. But Meaty is a fearful child. The thought of pulling his tooth out just sounded painful, no matter how loose the tooth in question might be. So he flatly refused to pull it, preferring to slowly wiggle it to death.

The new tooth began to grow in his mouth, peeking through is gums behind the loose tooth. Still he refused to pull it.

He complained it now hurt to wiggle because the old tooth was hitting the new tooth. Still he refused to pull it.

He proudly declared his loose tooth was so loose it would lay flat in his mouth. And still he refused to pull it.

Last night after bed time he came downstairs for one last drink of water. Again he commented on how loose his tooth was. I asked him if I could wiggle his tooth.

That poor unsuspecting child. He so eagerly scurried over to me, presenting his mouth as large as he could make it so I could see just how wiggly his tooth was.

I gently put my thumb and index finger in his mouth. And in one quick tug, before he could realize my plan, I pulled it.

Being the good knitter I am, I can turn any occasion into a reason to knit. In our house, all baby teeth must be placed in a special bag where the tooth fairy can find them. When Meaty first announced his tooth was loose he was not only excited about the impending visit from the Tooth Fairy, he was also proud that he was finally going to get his very own Tooth Fairy bag. When we went to my yarn cabinet to pick out a yarn he already knew which one he wanted.

Pattern: Mandy's Candy Bag

Yarn: Team Feet Sock Yarn, in That Team Up North

Needles: Size 2 Harmony Circulars

Modification: I used really thin yarn on really small needles. The rest was the same.

So proudly we put the newly freed tooth in the bag where it would patiently sit waiting to be exchanged for cold hard cash. The Tooth Fairy is notoriously unreliable in our home. She often takes a day or two to show up. I think the record is five days. I warned Meaty that since he lost his tooth after bedtime he might not be on the Tooth Fairy's schedule. She might not know he lost his tooth, or if she did she might not have enough money on her to get his tooth. But he felt confident that she would show.

And she did! He woke up this morning, no worse for the wear, having survived his toothy ambush. I on the other hand had an unsettling dream that all his teeth were loose and needed pulled at once. He just sat there with his mouth open wide, all those wiggly white teeth just staring at me *shudder* This is why I let Pork Chop pull her own teeth.

This morning he asked me what the Tooth Fairy did with the teeth. I told him I didn't know. He told me I should "Ask the computer. It knows everything."

I'd love to update my blog

But I'm entirely too busy with my new toy!

It is insane how happy pretty little cakes of yarn make me.

Although it would be irresponsible of me to leave you with the idea that all these cakes are little. Some are the size of Sweet Pea's head.

(Don't you just love how she's wearing shoes with her diaper? The girl loves her shoes!)

Yarn cakes make her happy.

*sigh* They make me happy too.

I'd love to tell you all about my new toy and how it came to live with me.....but I've got this beautiful hank of yarn that is just begging to be turned into a cake so I can knit a sock.

Better blogging soon....

And a Beginning

The first day of school has come and gone.

Years from now Bird is going to be all angsty and she's going to look for signs that I just don't love her as much as I love my other children. She will point to the five pictures I took of her first day of school and compare them to the pages and pages of pictures I took of the other children. She will hold this up as proof of my blatant favoritism. She will declare that I didn't love her then and I don't love her now.

The truth is, I didn't take as many pictures because she wouldn't put her hand down and smile.

She will blame me. But the truth is she has no one to blame but herself.

We are getting into the new groove of school. The older children are loving school. Once again Pork Chop feels she has "the BEST teacher EVER!" Meaty has promised to leave the classroom fish alone "when I'm supposed to be learning." And he is well on his way to getting a 100 on his first spelling test. It is so cool, and odd at the same time to see him setting goals for himself at school. He's growing so fast.

But Bird. Oh my Bird. She is my favorite kindergartner EVER!

You send your children to school and imagine them coming home full of stories to tell as you share milk and cookies at the kitchen table after school. The reality of the dream is you ask them how their day went and they say "fine." Any further information about their day must be pull out of them using interrogation skills that would make FBI investigators jealous.

But not my Bird!

She greets me at the kindergarten gate brimming with enthusiastic stories to share. She tells me every detail about her day. She sings me all her songs. She wants to teach me all the games they've played. She LOVES school. And I love her.

The only unhappy member of the family is Sweet Pea.

Each morning she eats breakfast at the table with the older children, just like a big girl. No high chair for her anymore. Then she rushes upstairs with them to get dressed. After she picks out her own clothes and is suitably adorned she toddles to the bathroom to have her hair done, just like a big girl. She is all dressed up and ready to go.

She watches out the window for the carpool to arrive. As the older children rush out the door in a flurry of kisses and backpack she tries to slip past in the chaos. But I see her. And she must stay with me.

Each morning I hold her as she cries and flails and tries to go to school, just like a big girl.

Doesn't she know there'll be time enough for that?

Can't she stay my baby for just a little longer?

An End

Today is the last day of Summer.

Yes, I am aware that the calendar dictates that summer actually extends until September 21st. And at 110, the weather outside would suggest that summer is still going strong.

Yet today is still the final day of Summer.

Tomorrow I release my children into the open arms of the public education system. I'm fortunate. I really like our school.

Once again I stand a jumble of emotions. On one side I am so happy for my children and all they'll learn and do. School is exciting and I am excited for them. I'm glad they have a love of learning and I want to encourage that. On the other side I am hesitant to let them go. I long to keep them by my side, safe and sound, always. They are my babies, why won't they stay babies?

But everyday, despite my best efforts, they grow and become their own people, and distance themselves from their parents in tiny immeasurable ways. One day I will wake up and they'll be gone, and I won't know how it happened. All those tiny ways they grow and gain independence add up. And this is as it should be.

But it doesn't mean I have to like it.

As I look back on this summer I will remember it as one happy summer. I'll forget the bickering and the times I wanted to sell them to the circus, or abandon them in Wal-Mart.

I will remember:

-dinners with friends
-grilled everything
-swimming, swimming, and more swimming
-the smell of sunscreen
-Fourth of July
-the miracles of modern medicine
-peaches
-night swimming past bedtime
-did I mention good friends?

All the truly important things in life: laughter, giggle, sticky kisses, love. They were all present in abundance this summer. I am grateful for the life I have been blessed with.

It was a wonderful summer. I wave it a sad good-bye.

Is it too soon to start counting the days until the next summer?

And some more of the same...

So you might have noticed I seem to be knitting (crocheting, whatever) a lot of hats lately. I am indeed on a hat knitting streak. Which is a little crazy, as the temperatures still hover between 110 and 120 here in the desert. Nobody is wearing a knit hat anytime soon. So why am I knitting all these hats?

It all started with a pregnant lady.

And no, that pregnant lady is not me.

I visit the sweetest lady who was expecting her third child. An impending birth is always an excuse to knit. So I whipped up these cute hats for her baby.

Just two rolled brim hats from Itty Bitty Hats. The pale blue one is newborn size, thin and light, just enough to keep the chill off a newborn's head in the air conditioning. The darker hat is thicker for winter wear. It is 6-12 month size, so I'm hoping they will be able to use it at some point, no matter where her husband ends up being stationed.

These sweet tiny hats got me thinking.

We've lived here for almost three years now and each year winter takes me by surprise. Part of that could be because it doesn't arrive until December, and by that point I'm sure it is never going to come. But it does, in a way, not in a snowy way, but in a put on a jacket and wear a hat kinda way. And each year I find myself digging out the dirty hats from the bottom of the closet that they abused the previous year. By the time I get around to knitting them new hats winter is practically over. I'm not even sure I bothered knitting them new hats last year. (I just checked the archives of my blog. I didn't)

But not this year.

I will be prepared for winter!

I'm knitting their hats now.

That is when the green hats of which we will never speak again happened.

I told Pork Chop that since the green hat wasn't going to work out, I needed her to pick out what kind of hat she would like. I was prepared to go through my patterns with her, maybe spend sometime looking at ravelry patterns with her. She would hem and haw trying to decide just the perfect hat as if her life depended on making the right choice. Then there would be the trip to pick out just the right yarn to go with her hat. It was going to be a big long bonding process.

But the moment I got the words out of my mouth Pork Chop tore out of the room. I watched her, amused, but wondering what on earth she was doing. Did the thought of wearing a hat send her running from the room in horror? She came back clutching my copy of "Charmed Knits" to her chest. She frantically scrambled through the pages until she found just what she wanted.

"This one!" she demanded as she slapped the open book down on the couch beside me.

"In red." she quickly added before I could even begin to formulate a follow-up question.

So Hermione's Cable and Bobble hat it is.

In red.

Pattern: Hermione's Cable and Bobble Hat

Yarn: Don't know, maybe Red Heart? It was worsted.

Needles: Size 6

Modifications: None

Review:

That's right. Another fail. I knit this when my head still hurt. I'm gonna blame the fail on that.

I forgot that this is an adult pattern and Pork Chop, as big as she is, still has a child size head. I should have used a dk or sport weight for the yarn. I sighed in pained frustration as I realized I was gonna have to knit those stupid bobbles a second time in a different yarn. But Pork Chop was undaunted. She calmly flipped the brim up a second time and declared herself cute.

as she airily told me "Isn't that the important thing Mom?"

I suppose it is.

Friday Loving, a day early

I love that I woke up this morning with no headache.

Sounds like a simple thing, but it is the first time I can say that in almost a month. I'm amazed at how good it feels to not be in pain. I've got a whole gaggle of prescriptions to make me normal (or atleast as normal as possible, some things you just can't fix). The pain relievers caused me to spend the first 48 hours on them sleeping, but now? I'm just on the preventative medication which makes my heart race and gives me insomnia. You should see how clean my house is now that I'm on physician approved crack! (I think I might be trying to make up for how dirty my house was while my head hurt).

So I'm loving no pain!

I'm also loving....

Big boxes for the imagination

3-D Glasses

And Spray painting old patio furniture

Although I might have created a monster here. The Greatest loved how the red chair turned out so much he decided he must spray paint the rest of our patio furniture.

I can't complain, it looks fabulous.

C'mon admit it. You wanna come hang at my house now!

Triple Fail

It is a little known fact that I've been known to hook a time or two. One could say I'm a hobby hooker. Jack of all Trades, Master of None, and all that jazz.

Now before my Father has an aneurysm I must point out that "hooker" is merely a pet name in the crafting world for people who crochet. Get it? They use a crochet hook to make things so they're hookers! Get it?!!!

Yeah.

Jokes are never funny when you have to explain them.

Anyways, moving right along from my funny fail,

I know my way around a crochet hook. And when I saw this project

I simply had to try my hand at it. How cute would it look on Pork Chop! I even had some olive green yarn in my stash.

I carefully cast on. I crocheted with all my might, the pattern on one leg, and crochet directions on the other. It had been a while and I'd forgotten how fast things work up when crocheted. This was going to awesome.

And the finished result is pretty awesome.

It just fits the wrong daughter.

I guess gauge matters in crochet too. *scratches head* Who knew? I ought to check it and see how far off I was. So even though Sweet Pea really likes it, this is a fail.

So I thought I would modify the pattern. You know, instead of checking gauge and going from there, I decided to just throw in a few extra increase rows, make it larger so it would fit a larger head. It was going to be easy-peasy!

Yup.

This is also a

So I abandoned this pattern, I mean, if gauge is that important, this is obviously not the pattern for me. I mean, obviously it was to fiddly. But Pork Chop still needed a new hat. One of the things I loved about the pattern was the tiny brim, so logically I turned to this pattern.

That's a friend of mine in the red hat. Isn't she cute? I've always wanted to make one of these hats. This seemed like my chance. My time to shine.

Guess what!

Gauge still matters.

I think I'll go back to knitting hats. *hmph*