My Abigail Cardi.

       

After finishing my first sweater for Luvinthemommyhood's KAL, I quickly cast on for a second sweater.  And that was the last thing that was quick about the sweater!  It is in fingering weight and it is a cardi, which means purl rows...and I am not very fast on purl rows.  

It took me an entire month, though I suppose that's not accurate as I did knit a few other items in that time period.  The pattern, the Abigail Cardi, calls for reverse stockinette, which is a stitch I do not love...mostly because it shows every flaw under the sun as far as I'm concerned. 

I planned to keep the stockinette as the right side but then foolishly forgot to reverse the collar...so it flips and curls the wrong way.  The result is a sweater that is half inside out no matter which way I wear it--because to wear it with the reverse stockinette outwards reveals the seams; to wear it stockinette side out reveals a collar that won't lay flat.  But rather than look at it in defeat, I am going to settle with calling it quirky and deconstructed.  Yep.  Maybe someday I'll rip out the collar and fix it.  But for now, I am calling it done and am moving onto to something chunkier and knit in the round.  Well, until I remember the drape you achieve when knitting in a fine gauge and then I'll probably cast on again with more sock yarn.  It's a vicious cycle.

My Ravelry notes are here.  I used Madelinetosh Sock in the Milk colorway and love the yarn--it is next-to-the-skin heaven.  My only mod was to add a couple of more decreases in the sleeves, lengthening them just so, and adding about an inch of 4 x 1 ribbing as a collar edge...a last ditch effort to get the collar to lay flat if I wore the sweater with the stockinette side showing as planned.  It did not work one bit.  But at least I like the look of the edging.  And although it may not sound like it as I prattle on, I actually like my new cardi, too, and think it will be a wardrobe staple.  I just need to learn to love the obvious tension problems revealed by the reverse stockinette! 

I did not have time to take proper shots so these self-portraits in the mirror will have to do.

Sandra 

Cobbler, 2011 version.

Every summer, I dabble in the world of cobblers.  I am still happy with the quick and easy version I posted last year.  But as I mentioned in that post, sometimes--especially for company--you might want to take it up a notch.

This is the cobbler recipe I go to when guests are headed over and I'd like to serve something special (but still easy) and am not worrying about calorie count (because it ain't diet food).  I've made it five times this summer and have failed to take a shot of the finished dish each time...which is one of the reasons I've delayed in posting the recipe.  But as summer is drawing to a close, I figured I'd best just get it up here.  Even if you've enjoyed cobbler many times this summer, I think there is always room for more...

Company Cobbler

adapted from Paula Deen

4 C peeled and sliced peaches

2 C sugar, divided

1/2 C water

8 T butter

1 1/2 C self-rising flour

1 1/2 C buttermilk

ground cinnamon for sprinkling

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. 

Combine fruit, water, and 1 C of sugar in a saucepan; bring to a boil then simmer for 10 minutes.  In the meantime, place butter in a deep-dish pie plate or a 3 quart baking dish and slide into hot oven to melt butter.  In a seperate bowl, whisk together the flour and remaining 1 C sugar--slowly add the buttermilk to prevent clumping.  Do not beat to death.  After butter is melted, remove from oven and pour mixture over hot melted butter.  Do not stir.  Spoon fruit on top, gently pouring in syrup.  Sprinkle with ground cinnamon.  Batter will rise to top during baking.  Bake for 40-45 minutes.

Enjoy!

Sandra

Swim season recap.

Hi there!  Sandra waves hello, logging on for the first time in three weeks.

We're enjoying our summer and cannot believe it's almost over.  And before it ends, I need to record some important happenings.  One in particular is Max's involvement on swim team.  It was touch and go whether he'd choose to participate this year.  He tried winter swim and Charlie and I watched in horror as he seemed to get worse week after week...it was obvious his heart wasn't in it.  He would jump in and do a few strokes.  Then he'd  completely stop and lose all momentum, seemingly content with sinking.  And then--at a critical moment before sinking too far--he'd stroke, stroke, stroke, bobbing back to the surface.  He'd repeat this tortured rhythm the full length of the lane.  It was hard to watch. 

When summer rolled around, it was a surprise when he said he'd join swim team.  Not a surprise was the groaning when he trudged to the 7:45 a.m. practice each day.  But he always stuck with it.  He even graduated from the B meets to the A meets because our team needed someone in his age group to do breast stroke.  I should point out that he could not do breast stroke when this proposition arose. 

I should also point out that while other kids might be embarrassed by the notion of attempting something in public before they can do it well--the concern does not seem to cross Max's mind. 

A notable thing about our oldest is he really doesn't care what anyone thinks.  And this often presents challenges because his parents are, you guessed it, included in the group of "anyone."  Sure he wants to please us and enjoys making us proud.  But gaining acceptance by doing what others do is not a driving force in his decisions.  It never has been.  Rather, he will strive to do things well if he wants to.  And he is not easily influenced by the notion that he should want to do something well just because others do it well.  I'm not sure exactly what character trait, if any, that represents but it resulted in him happy to swim breast stroke in a race with seasoned swimmers even though he could not actually do the breast stroke.  I might have mentioned that already but it's worth repeating because it made me proud.  Especially when I saw his face before the first meet and realized he was pretty nervous.

Max disqualified during the first two meets.  He'd either do an illegal stroke or forget to touch the wall with two hands.  But he stuck with the practices, only missing when we were out of town and when he fell sick for a few days.  And in the end, the breast stroke finally clicked.  He cut his time nearly in half and by the end of the season, he improved enough to qualify for Divisionals.

More importantly, he made friends, enjoyed team camaraderie, and learned the valuable lesson that hard work pays off.  At our team banquet, he was selected by the coaches for the hardest working boy award.  I have never seen him look proud, surprised, and embarrassed.  And as I watched him clutch the plaque and process what it represented, I've never felt my heart swell quite that way. 

His coaches are really exceptional.  Wonderful young adults who are committed to the kids--many of them grew up on the very swim team they now coach.  The two young ladies in charge of the 8 and under kids are really great, not to mention adorable.  I knit them a pair of earflap hats in team colors with fun pom poms as a thank you gift.  I hope they like them.

I was a timer at the end of the lane and he's waving hello. But doesn't it look like he's trying to use the Force?

We've spent far less time at the pool since the end of swim season.  But we have a couple of weeks left.  We are ending this summer with a big surprise trip for the boys and I am all-a-flurry trying to get ready.  I'll give you a hint.  It starts with a D and rhymes with Help Me.  Okay, that's not the right attitude.  I know we'll have a ball and are lucky ducks to get to go.  I'm just a little worried that traveling with a three-year-old to a theme park filled with attractions that he--and he alone--cannot ride won't be the smoothest experience we've enjoyed.  I think I've made it clear how much he likes to hang with his brothers.  We will have to divide and distract, I think.  Wish us luck.

One little monkey...

One little monkey... 

...jumping on the bed.

He fell off and bumped his head. 

Momma called the doctor and the doctor said, "No more monkeys jumping on the bed!"

"Okaaaaay (!?) William?," asked momma.

"Hmmph."

"Okay," said William. 

Here's hoping you don't have an annual ER trip in your summer plans!

Sandra