About Me:

About Me: I've been knitting since I got bored one summer in college and made a raglan sleeved rag-wool sweater that still almost fits. My favorite things to knit are Scandanavian colorwork and lace. I don't like to knit socks or sleeves. Some years ago, I completed the Level 1 Master Course with The Knitting Guild of America. That's as far as I got, but I did learn a lot and I recommend it highly.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Read Right for Your Blood Type!

The lists in the next few posts on this blog are offered as general resources for self-education, and are not to be used for self-diagnosis or treatment. (Truly, cross-posted from "H is for Hamlet," my other shameless self-promotional).

Good literature may be useful in correcting serious problems of temperment due to misbalanced humours.

Therapy consists of liberal and concentrated application of subsequent chapters of an appropriate supportive (to correct a deficiency) or opposite (to mitigate an excess) novel or anthology.

However, when consumed outside of the appropriate critical context, the content or philosophy of some works may be disturbing.

Therefore, for a most effective cure, readings should be advised only by a certified graduate of a small, preferably midwestern, liberal arts college.

Moreover, if access to recognized works of literature is limited, readers should be cautioned that popular fiction should under no circumstances be substituted in equal amounts, as there are no established minimum standards for literate content in such work. 

Similarly, the use of foreign language literature may result in serious side-effects, such as the promotion of socialist economic theory.

Periodical literature or professional journal subscriptions may in some cases make an acceptable alternative treatment, again, check with your B.A. to be sure.

Katie Kilbridge, B.A.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Three's a Bitch

I am happy to present the last installment in my series of subversive needlepoint tea towels (part 1 is here, and part 2 is here) that I wrote about in my other blog, The Style Guide to Divorce.  If you haven't ever seen Julie Jackson's "Subversive Cross Stitch" book, visit her website for a refreshing and shocking taken on a demure craft.  Read my blog if you want to be grateful you're not me, or if you think humor could be the way to redeem some part of an otherwise painful and expensive procedure.

Collect the Entire Set!
The goal here was to use up some embroidery floss that was lying around, thanks to one of Purl's abandoned friendship bracelet projects, which was too good to waste.  I wanted to re-master the french knot, which had stumped me when making the second towel, and I wanted a short and sweet message that captured my "so over you" sentiment without being extraordinarily bitter.  (a little to medium amount of bitter was apparently okay -- think about the taste of the second martini, and how mouthy one gets afterwards).

I mulled it all over, and over, and more.  I tried to think, if it was time to say the very last thing to him that I would ever say, forever, what would it be.  Something funny?  Something cruel?  What's the phrase one uses to shrug one's shoulders and say nothing because seeing him, not seeing him, it just doesn't register anything at all?  I thought for a while about 'Who are you?' but then I realized that I needed to consider the audience.  Despite how I may feel or whatever it is I want to say, part of the project is the effect on the person who sees the stitching.  They shouldn't have to know anything about you or him to get it and to have it bring out a knowing smile.

Eventually, the idea surfaced that what I needed to say was something about me.  Who I am, and how great it is to be me.  How great it is to be me, without you, for better or for worse.  Not only better off, but still essentially the same I was before.  Marrying you didn't change who I am, so leaving you didn't either.  Still here, still a bitch.  Beautiful.

There's a trick to the french knot that I will probably always have to check on-line - the thread has to be wrapped from the end of the needle to the point, but I was happy that this time it worked.  The scroll-like detail is called a "volute" from Ionic Greek architecture.

Now that these projects are done, I can get back to my beaded knitting, and some repairs to an antique Sunbonnet Sue quilt.  Not your most exciting Friday night, I know, but completing these always feels like real progress.