Pattern: Dream Cardi from And So To Bed by Lucinda Guy
Wool: The pattern specified 9 balls of Rowan RYC, but I went for a more budget knit and used Bendigo Woollen Mill's Classic 8 ply in Musk (1 1/2 balls)
Size: 3 - 4 years
Notions: Three vintage shank buttons from my stash (thank goodness for yard sales!), 1 metre spotted pink ribbon.
I love this cardi, as does Grumbles judging by the number of times it's been worn since I finished it two weeks ago! I'm rather glad that my camera didn't pick up the spaghetti sauce stains on the sleeve *ahem*.
Despite adoring the cardigan, I did take a few liberties with the pattern. It originally called for the lower bodice to be knit separately using double yarn, but I felt it made the pattern (which was knit all in one) unnecessarily complicated, without any major visual payoff, so I rewrote the pattern to suit me, and worked it using only a single strand of yarn.
I also ignored the instruction for croched button loops, and instead made my own using this method from the lovely Anna, which I felt would be far more sturdy for the age group specified.
But other than those minor quibbles it's a great cardi, with a lovely stitch pattern, and I can tell it's going to be worn and worn and worn!
In fact, I rather fancy making one for myself! [Said whilst hunting around for a calculator and some note paper]
Dearest, darlingest Grumbles,
Today, four years ago, you were born. Four years! Where on heck has the time gone? I suppose it has followed that golden rule: Time flies when you're having fun, and since you have brought nothing but joy and and happiness and laughter into my life, then it's no surprise that time has zoomed by at an expotential rate.
You and Daddy and I have sure done a lot in those four years. You've gone from a chubby bundle who could projectile vomit 6 feet across a room without batting an eyelid to a hilarious girl with an infectious laugh who can hold her own on the dance floor with the best of them. We've done bike holidays together, and music classes, and gymnastics, and kindergarten, and so many other wonderful activities, with you growing taller and more confident with each one, and me standing quietly by your side, collecting each memory and holding it in a special place in my heart.
Fantastic as all those things have been, it's the quiet, unexpected moments that I treasure the most. Like yesterday, for instance, when you instructed that I draw on a large piece of paper a mummy crocodile, a daddy crocodile and a baby Grumbles crocodile, and then you painted them in blue and yellow and brown, making them talk in funny voices like I do when I read books to you. And I watched, feeling so stupid with pride over you. Or each night, after we've sung "Moon, moon", and I'm turning off the light, and I say "I love you, Pumpkin-head!", and I hear you say through the darkness in a deep, growly voice, "I love you, crazy Mummy Pumpkin-head!"
I also like it when we walk down the street, and you say hello to somebody, and then before they have even finished passing you tell me in an extra-loud voice that "I have very good manners, don't I, Mum!" That one never fails to elicit a slightly embarassed guffaw from me.
Or when you insist that I play the Amelie soundtrack, and we dance and dance and dance around the loungeroom until I'm too out of breath to hold you up anymore, so then you lie down so I can play the 'piano' on your back, and we both lie there, giggling like crazy.
And the way that you are really, really crap at bargaining. I'll say "Ok, tiger, time to pack up, dinner's ready! Pop your colouring away please."
"How about five more minutes?"
"How about two more minutes?"
"How about next week?"
Like I said, it's the quiet, unexpected moments that I love the most. They're like a shiny, beautiful gift, comfirming to me how brilliant and wonderful you are, and how I must be the luckiest thing ever to share these days with you.
I love you, Pumpkin-head!
...especially one as badly drawn as that! I mean, c'mon - when was the last time you saw a square mouthed croc? Talk about crikey! Lauren Child, you have nothing to worry about.
Even Grumbles has turned from it in digust and shame. And this is after she tried to cover the horror of it with paint. Don't blame the kid, really.
As I may have mentioned before, I write a regular column for MixTape magazine. So if you've ever wondered what's in the mag, then go take a sneak peek. Go on, you know you want to... it's full of crafty goodness, including my oh so fabulous 'Green' column, and proudly produced in Melbourne.
Take a look, take a look! You won't regret it!
Urgh. I'm still residing in the Valley of Snotty Nose, but am keeping myself cheerful by gazing at these gorgeous works of art by the supremely talented Louise of Art & Ghosts.
I mean, seriously, what's not to love about red stockings? And rabbity hats! And soulful eyes? I think I'm in love.
Oh, Galumph? She has an Etsy shop. And my birthday is soon... I'm not saying, I'm just saying, you know?
(COUGH COUGH HINT HINT)
Not bad for a wee space measuring 2 x 1.5 metres!