Maggie, the model

Still on Taoknitter: Maggie, the model

Knitting & Embroidering

I am almost done with the Aran poncho...need to do a couple more rows of a crocheted edge. Thought I might do a picot edge, but looking at the pic here it might look too fussy. And I am thinking I will not block this...I like the way the long edge flows and the sheer weight of this thing will block it for me!

I cannot find the pattern I used...I had everything committed to memory. It was not an Elizabeth Zimmerman pattern, but I did not like the way the top down percentages were figured so went to my EZ books and made it work better! EZ to the rescue!





This pic shows the color better. It has more green than the pic above shows. You can also see the cabling section better...sort of.















Miss Maggie generously broke her frown to give me a smile while modeling for me. The poncho is for me but I do NOT put pics of me fluffy self on the net willingly, so here you see that it is a BIG poncho. Actually fits me very nicely.

And here are my flowers! (See Marianne, I do flowers, too! Not as subtle as yours, though...) Susan's design, my digitizing and sew-out. These are my experiments...new solo dress client wants these so had to figure out which threads, which center fabric, etc. I like the top right, but from a distance you cannot see those tiny iridescent dots. The bottom right works the best. The flowers on the left were thread color experiments...hard to find the right shade of pink slightly darker than the fabric.

They come tomorrow for a bodice fitting and we will decide.

So much for wordless Wednesday

There has been interesting feedback from folks about "Oh, Eliza...". A popcorn thought (you know, the ones that keep jumping in your head until you let it out) needs to be fleshed out, so...

Here are some comments:

Dulcinea: "...I've often thought how weird it is that, had I been born a century ago, knitting would almost certainly have been something for me to escape from rather than to escape to."

SinKnitty: "So that was the beginning of where my mother got the idea that knitting was something that made you less of a powerful woman and why I had to teach myself to knit from books because the art had become lost to my mother's generation. And sadly some women still think it's something that lowers them and wastes their time rather than seeing it as a useful art. If only they knew how much Math I have to do! lol! Knitting is what I have had to use all that algebra for."

And Femminista: "Wow! Ditto sinkitty and dulcinea! My mom is a powerful feminist role model for me--but she didn't want to sit down and teach me "domestic arts" although I was desperate to learn them! I learned from books and good old Home Ec!"

Read the rest here: So much for Wordless Wednesday...

"Oh, Eliza, I beseech you, knit no more!!"

One of my fellow Historic Knit listers posted this letter and part of the poetic response today. It is a letter from Elizabeth Cady Stanton to her friend Eliza Osborne lamenting the waste of the female intellect when a woman is reduced to knitting or other "digital" arts. Her friend's response is wonderfully less than sympathetic! (I found the whole poem to include here.)


NEW YORK, 26 WEST 61ST STREET,
November 12, 1891.

DEAR ELIZA:

In a recent letter to Mrs. Miller, speaking of the time when we last met, you say, 'Why was Mrs. Stanton so solemn?' to which I reply: Ever since an old German emperor issued an edict, ordering all the women under that flag to knit when walking on the highway, when selling apples in the market place, when sitting in the parks, because 'to keep women out of mischief their hands must be busy,' ever since I read that, I have felt 'solemn' whenever I have seen any daughters of our grand Republic knitting, tatting, embroidering, or occupied with any of the ten thousand digital absurdities that fill so large a place in the lives of Eve's daughters.

Looking forward to the scintillations of wit, the philosophical researches, the historical traditions, the scientific discoveries, the astronomical explorations, the mysteries of theosophy, palmistry, mental science, the revelations of the unknown world where angels and devils do congregate, looking forward to discussions of all these grand themes, in meeting the eldest daughter of David and Martha Wright, the niece of Lucretia Mott, the sister-in-law of William Lloyd Garrison, a queenly-looking woman five feet eight in height, and well proportioned, with glorious black eyes, rivaling even De Staël's in power and pathos, one can readily imagine the disappointment I experienced when such a woman pulled a cotton wash rag from her pocket and forthwith began to knit with bowed head. Fixing her eyes and concentrating her thoughts on a rag one foot square; it was impossible for conversation to rise above the wash-rag level! It was enough to make the most aged optimist 'solemn' to see such a wreck of glorious womanhood.

And, still worse, she not only knit steadily, hour after hour, but she bestowed the sweetest words of encouragement on a young girl from the Pacific Coast, who was embroidering rosebuds on another rag, the very girl I had endeavored to rescue from the maelstrom of embroidery, by showing her the unspeakable folly of giving her optic nerves to such base uses, when they were designed by the Creator to explore the planetary world, with chart and compass to guide mighty ships across the sea, to lead the sons of Adam with divinest love from earth to heaven. Think of the great beseeching optic nerves and muscles by which we express our admiration of all that is good and glorious in earth and heaven, being concentrated on a cotton wash rag! Who can wonder that I was 'solemn' that day! I made my agonized protest on the spot, but it fell unheeded, and with satisfied sneer Eliza knit on, and the young Californian continued making the rosebuds. I gazed into space, and, when alone, wept for my degenerate countrywoman. I not only was 'solemn' that day, but I am profoundly 'solemn' whenever I think of that queenly woman and that cotton wash rag. (One can buy a whole dozen of these useful appliances, with red borders and fringed, for twenty-five cents.) Oh, Eliza, I beseech you, knit no more!

Affectionately yours,

ELIZABETH CADY STANTON.


To this Mrs. Osborne sent the following reply:
DEAR MRS. STANTON:

In your skit
Against your sisterhood who knit,
Or useful make their fingers,
I wonder if–deny it not–
The habit of Lucretia Mott
Within your memory lingers!

In retrospective vision bright,
Can you recall dear Martha Wright
Without her work or knitting?
The needles flying in her hands,
On washing rags or baby's bands,
Or other work as fitting?

"I cannot think they thought the less,
Or ceased the company to bless
With conversation's riches,
Because they thus improved their time,
And never deemed it was a crime
To fill the hours with stitches.

They even used to preach and plan
To spread the fashion, so that man
Might have this satisfaction;
Instead of idling as men do,
With nervous meddling fingers too,
Why not mate talk with action?

But as a daughter and a niece,
I pride myself on every piece
Of handiwork created;
While reveling in social chat,
Or listening to gossip flat,
My gain is unabated.

That German emperor you scorn,
Seems to my mind a monarch born,
Worthy to lead a column;
I'll warrant he could talk and work,
And, neither being used to shirk,
Was rarely very solemn.

I could say more upon this head,
But must, before I go to bed,
Your idle precepts mocking,
Get out my needle and my yarn
And, caring not a single darn,
Just finish up this stocking."

I love smart women!!!

She Rides!!!

The youngest asked Dad to remove the training wheels this morning. 5 minutes later I looked out the front door just as Dad let her go and off she went!!! That was the end of that! Hurry, quick, where the hell is the camera....

Is her bike really too small already?

She is so thrilled and proud!

She is growing up way too fast. I am sure I am so freaked out about her getting older because she is my baby...I no longer feel the urge to procreate. Truly. But my little one is so quickly becoming a young lady, leaving the baby behind. It's why I let her lisp...a habit she developed when she lost all 4 front teeth at the same time! I have to ask for hugs now when she gets home from school because she'd rather eat a snack. Her older sister is more likely to sit in my lap now than she is. Well, today she's getting lap time whether she likes it or not!