At Last, Reversible Knitting

Knitting
I finished unravelling the end of the Puzzle Wrap (I only resorted to scissors once although I resorted to bad language more often) and I've started adding the beads. I'm not doing a huge number and I'm not doing them in a very thorough way, more a bit of twinkle. I can't get a decent photograph. They're very small Swarovski crystals, no colour but an aurora borealis coating so that they sparkle amazingly. The bride's mother is convinced that it will rain steadily all day, so sparkly dew drops could be an appropriate look.

The trouble is, Reversible Knitting arrived at the same time as the beads and I am almost unable to put that down - I don't know which way to turn. There isn't much point in my reproducing any of the photos that are available on Grumperina's thorough review, but here is an item that isn't.

Reversible lice - how clever is that?

And a reversible hat. I haven't done any swatching yet because I Must Finish the Puzzle Wrap and if at all possible the ivory and gold Gail as well, but I haven't been able to resist quite lot of peeking.

The book is beautifully put together, of course - clear instructions and clear photographs and something I noticed on my third or fourth run-through - the different types of stitches are shown on different colours of background. Picked Up against avocado, Openwork against orange and so on. The colours of the book are really juicy, and follow through into the colours of the garments in the pattern section: the whole book is designed around the same colours, very harmonious. I don't think I've seen that done before.

This Faux Wrap was designed by Lily Chin. The cables are reversible so that the cuffs can be worn down and long, or folded and three-quarter length, and the collar can be worn high and buttoned, or open.

I am just boggled by how Lynne Barr's mind must work. I'm very poor at visualization and find it extremely difficult to think in three dimensions: she must have an extra ration of whatever it is that I'm lacking. I wonder how far she can model these designs in her head before she picks up the needles.


Gail photos
I thought that language might be Portuguese, Mary Lou, but I didn't want to risk getting it wrong. I used to have a Brazilian friend whom I could have asked, but I went on holiday with her once and we haven't spoken since.

Drama
I was wakened this morning by someone delivering a parcel (no, it wasn't wool; it was one of my other weaknesses) and while I was signing the thingie, he said, 'Have you had a fire in the stair*?' I said no, and he remarked that there was a strong smell of burning. I muttered something about checking and he said something sensible about always best to be on the safe side, so after he'd gone I couldn't quite sneak back to bed as I had planned. It was mostly the smell of burnt food but with a plasticky element. I put some clothes on because I hate talking to the fire brigade in my dressing gown, and I texted one of my neighbours. I didn't get a reply from her so I started trooping up and down stairs sniffing at letterboxes. I don't know if you've ever done that, but it's not something you want to be caught doing.

I was fairly sure it was one of the ground-floor flats and I hammered and knocked for a while to no answer, which wasn't very encouraging. I hadn't heard from the neighbour I'd texted so I started to visualize her unconscious in a haze of smoke but her letterbox was pristine. I can vouch for it.

So I rang 999 and there was all the clanging and nee-nawing and so on, and they knocked on the ground-floor door and this time, she answered. It turned out she had burned her supper at about three in the morning: she must have burned the handle of the pan too, given the plasticky element. My other neighbour appeared and said she'd been in the shower when I texted. She also said that the supper-burning neighbour never answers the door, so that's useful to know.

I apologised to the firemen - I know it's not necessary but one feels such a fool - and they left after they'd checked up and down the stair (I didn't catch them sniffing letterboxes but they have little meters that tell them what sort of smoke it is).

So that was an exciting start to the week. I hope the rest of it is less dramatic and that I don't have to get dressed in a hurry again.

'Stair' is the Scottish term for all the flats on a single staircase, sort of equivalent to 'block'.