So, when one is working on the EZ Pi Shawl, it is so easy to get carried away with oneself when attempting to title one's blog post. For instance, "Slice of Pi," "Would You Like Some Pi With That?" and "How Do You Like Your Pi?" come to mind. But forget I said anything at all and let's just get into it, shall we?
I'd mentioned in a previous post that my Elizabeth Zimmerman obsession persists in earnest with my desire to make a Pi Shawl from the Knitter's Almanac.
And so I started it.
And started it.
And started it.
And started it.
Each time, I failed miserably, hopelessly unable to get past the part where you are supposed to engage with the dreaded Double Pointed Needles (which are clearly the work of all that is unholy and vexing). Part of it, too, was my stupid insistence on using a yarn far too fine for the likes of me. Until a (fluorescent and energy-efficient) bulb went off in my head and I realized that I have some cheap-ass Smiley's yarn that they practically paid me to take away that is light enough to create the ethereal shawl of my dreams while still allowing me to maintain a semblance of control over the project. That, and my new-found skill of using the Magic Loop technique with my circular needles helped me along.
Problem solved.
And so I zipped along in a blissful haze, not realizing the extra stitch in some early row had caused a rather unsightly hole. And I couldn't fix it. And I didn't even notice it until until I realized my count was irretrievably off in the lace section because of that nasty extra stitch. And every time I tried to adjust the stitch number, like quicksand, I seemed to get deeper and deeper in the Pi hole (see what I mean?).
And so, I unknitted.
And unknitted.
And unknitted.
ad nauseum.
I had fully expected to proudly show you all just how smarty-boots I had become. I imagined your collective breath drawing in sharply in astonishment (and even, perhaps, with a little envy).
So here I sit, egg on my face, with naught but a miniature and embryonic Pi to show for days of trial, blood, sweat, and tears.
But it is still my Pi, and given the newness of it all, I am still a little proud, a little boastful about having gotten THIS far.

Of course, I will update you on my progress until I get bored and find something else to leave incomplete.
Before I sign off, I have to ask a serious favor of you. A very dear friend of mine just found out that he must have heart bypass surgery. He is, understandably, completely freaked out. Now, as some of you know, I am not exactly what anyone would call "religious." And if you know me well, you will know that my previous sentence was an understatement. However, my dear friend is quite spiritual indeed, and I have noticed that he is getting more religious as the years pass. So here is my favor: If you are religious, please pray for my friend. He believes in the power of it, and I think he will draw a lot of comfort knowing that the troops have been rallied on his behalf. I will support him in whatever way I can, but if you could just add this one thing to your list, it would be appreciated more than I could ever say.
Thanks.

Ah, Valentine's Day. Besides the Christmas/New Year convergence, is there a holiday that can inspire more disappointment through its unreachable ideals?
I thought not.
But in the spirit of l'amour, I give you all my personal secret to a happy marriage. Use it wisely, my friends, for whomever you serve this to will be yours forever.
SubwayHooker's Cumin Garlic Wee Potatoes
Olive Oil - a few glugs
Wee Potatoes - about a pound, cut up into smallish chunks, depending on the size you get. We like a mix of Yukon Gold and New Red.
Fresh Garlic Cloves, peeled, not chopped unless ungodly large - I usually throw in at least 6, as many as 10
Salt, to taste
Cumin powder
Boil ye wee potatoes with the garlic cloves in salted water until tender.
Drain the potatoes and garlic.
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over a medium high flame.
When oil is hot, add potatoes and garlic.
Add salt, to taste.
Sprinkle cumin powder over the mess, as much as you like.
Keep sauteing until the potatoes are golden brown.
And that's it. The cumin and baby potatoes form some kind of unholy union, emphasizing the sweetness of the potatoes and the high-pitched singsong quality of the cumin. The garlic's pungency is tamed by boiling, and the swim in the hot olive oil softens and sweetens those luscious cloves.
As you can see, this is less a recipe than a guidepost for creating a simple and delicious side. It's all to taste, but then, most recipes are.
May this recipe bring to you the one you love.....
I present to you...the (almost) finished Maltese Fisherman's Hat!
In my prior post of this morning, I showed you a photo of the hat in its halfway completed state. After that shot was taken, I trawled ravelry for the versions created by others with far more skill than I and realized that I'd badly screwed up the decreases. So I frogged to the beginning decrease and began anew. The one thing I did not correct was my treatment of the part across the brow. EZ calls for two purled rows, but I like the softer, more organic look of the rolling stockinette, so there it stayed.
The one issue I have with the Knitter's Almanac is the lack of detailed photos. Her pithy directions are a joy to behold, but this old hooker is a visual sort, and needs such confirmation along the way to ensure a successful project. That said, ravelry came to the rescue: I saw the errors of my ways and fixed them.

But there's more. When I ordered my interchangeable circular needles from KnitPicks after the great breast debacle of January, I'd also accidently ordered a wee booklet, "The Magic Loop." Now, I'd heard of the magic loop before, and watched videos of it in action on YouTube, but I really needed a solid reference to be happy. And the Maltese Fisherman Hat was just the project on which to learn the magic loop technique. And by gum, it worked! I got down to the prescribed 8 stitches on a 42" circular needle and comfortably worked till the bitter end!
And this new learning gives me some of the tools I need to feebly attempt a Pi Shawl. (Let me pause as you mumble admiringly amongst yourselves...) Yes, that's right. I really want to try a Pi Shawl. But my fear of multiple double pointed needles has kept me in my place, not daring to attempt such a work of art. However, the magic loop has rescued me from my fear by giving me a way to work the opening salvos without facing those nasty DPs.

It is just so damned luscious, isn't it?
Okay, back to the Fisherman's hat. While the basic hat is complete, I have plans to make this a bit more special. Because of its inherently goofy look, I intend to push the envelope a bit and turn it into a Seussian masterpiece. Oh, is that too much hyperbole for a Saturday afternoon? Okay. I want to make this silly-looking hat even sillier.
Ta for now!

So here it is: EZ's Snail Hat, in all its badly finished glory! I made more errors on this than even I care to admit, but there ya go. It started well, but finished crappily. But I was thankful for its warmth on some of the colder days this past week, and I will continue to wear it as Winter dictates.

And because it went rather quickly, I started on the Maltese Fisherman Hat, another EZ pattern from the Knitter's Almanac. The below is a squashed side view. As you can see, it's basically a helmet that will end with a "tassel of your dreams" to quote Ms. Zimmerman. I actually have plans to embellish this sucker considerably. I find its resemblance to WWII knitting projects in its utilitarian design quite charming. But it looks like it might be a fun backdrop to some rather quirky treatment, a la Cabinet of Curiosities.
Lard News:
And if you are keeping score, we are now down about 7 pounds total since starting with weightwatchers. I'm still finding it easy, overall, so I'm sticking with it. I'm clinging to grandiose dreams of going sleeveless this summer and of not chafing my thighs as I walk. Lofty, I know, but these are the dreams that can move mountains. Of lard.
I think I am not unusual in my short attention span as it impacts crochet and knitting projects. Perhaps one or two of you share the pain of quickly getting bored. I am now at the point where I am actually afraid to look at the basket o' UFOs next to my couch. The baggies of half-baked shrugs, scarves, sweaters, and shawls all shout "loser!" in their loud, yarny, voices and I can't take it. So when I get bored with repetition, even easy repetition, I look for something fast, easy, and attainable. A "low-hanging fruit," as it were. Something I can lord about proudly, an actual completed project.
So it was with this as background that I embarked on Elizabeth Zimmerman's Snail Hat. I love this thing. It is so weirdly cute, so homely...and it's a freaking HAT! How much time could that possibly take me? Why, EZ herself says it can be completed in an evening. Meg Swansen says it's a few hours from start to finish.
So where does that leave your faithful hooker?
Well, it's been a few days.
First I tried the one in the current issue of Vogue Knitting. It is a streamlined version of EZ's original from Knitting Without Tears. All was going along just fine until I messed up my count somewhere and couldn't fix it. So I frogged.
Then I started it again. Then I messed up my count again. So I frogged.
Then I looked at the original version. It has more swirls. And I read EZ's description of the mysterious "M1" and used it for the first set of increases. And wouldn't you know, it left big, gaping holes. But I soldiered on, using EZ's M1. And I didn't like the holes at all, so I switched, midstream, to the alternative version of M1, where you pick up the strand between the stitches and knit into the back of the stitch. And I realized that the original, half-hitch version was really better. So I frogged.
Then I started with the original Snail, using the alternative M1 for the bottom band so I'd get no gaping holes, then switched to the original M1 once the pattern began so I would get holes. And guess what? It's going swimmingly. Though I've not gotten far, I've gotten to understand the pattern to the point where I can tell right away if I stray. Hopefully, you'll see the finished chapeau in my next post.
Now, I started writing this post this morning. Some of you may remember my forlorn attempt at a Twinkle sweater. It has been lying in a heap on an ottoman in the sun room for a long time now, yarn needle still attached. Well, writing the above shamed me into seaming the sleeves and weaving in (most of) the ends. Et voila!
Not only do I not think it sucks, now that I've been shedding some lard, it's beginning to look nice on me! WOO freakin' HOO!
And part of shedding that lard is not indulging in my lovely, whole wheat bread.....

During the week, I'll post updates on the Snail Hat.
Toodles!