HARLEQUIN AFGHAN…or….relationship advice.

"Come on, here's the camera, take a few shots before you leave!"

Blocked & positioned on matching rattan furniture.

And it's off the hook, assembled, complete. The Harlequin Afghan, finished.  I blogged about this piece just days ago, and before that, a few other times.

What to say, now?  Perhaps an homage to the sort of playing with cameras that we enjoy…or at least I enjoy, with the indulgence of my family members.  Peter is responsible for this collection of KSN photos in the back yard, modeling the afghan as wrap/cape.

blocked, ready for use.

 Every once in a while I start to wonder if we ham it up for the camera a little too much. After all, some of us are not getting any younger.  Then again, it's terrific fun, especially for the self-absorbed.  I'd also dare any of you, LFs, to do the same.  Why not?  In this instance, I'm rustling up the attention of my long-suffering spouse.  One of the remedies to long term relationship blues is to simply ask for attention.  It's so easy for us to focus lots of energy on self, on kids, pets, work, house, and forget about each other.  So, on a Friday morning when I ask my spouse to take a few extra minutes to shoot these photos, I'm asking for attention, interaction, a laugh or too, and, thanks to the technology, a memory.

"This is going to look fabulous. I can wear it wherever I wish!"

 Somebody warned, in an earlier post, that this afghan is too gorgeous to not convert to a wearable item.  Now that it's finished, I sort of agree.  It's main purpose will be to adorn my mid-century rattan couch, but whenever the fancy hits, I think I'll break out the "Harlequin Cape". why not?  One hundred percent worsted wool, it's soft, not too scratchy, and warm.  I'm fond of the colors. Chartreuse, coral, black, grey, white. Great midcentury colors, still classic today.  I'm wild about the juxtaposition of classic vintage detail with modernity.  In this case, the whole set-up looks hopelessly modern.  The Harlequin Afghan time traveled to today and got stuck in a selfie-shoot and an outdoor affair.

"Go ahead. Just try to tell me what I can and can not wear!"

And so we have it.  I can't help but try to synch the piece up with a pop song, and for some reason Hall and Oates comes to mind, again and again.  If you see the cape around town, you'll know who it is.  You'll also know what it is.  And if you see me running/riding/sitting with this cape wrapped around my shoulders, you might even hum a few lines from a Hall & Oates song:

"It's up to me, what will be…"

"She's gone." 

"What went wrong?"

"Face ain't looking any younger, now I can see, love taking her toll on me…"

And to quote the photographer: "I like seeing you argue with the camera!" There is usually a fair amount of arguing, but not without it's fun. Next installment of yarn madness, nobody knows.  But there is a small chance that it will be painstaking, unique, and possess bit of whimsy. 

"Will you ever finish that thing?" My reply? "Who cares? Now I have something to keep me alive!!!!"

It's the Mother-Daughter ensemble crochet kit.  Finished during an ever lovely summer break.  All of my obsessions sufficiently fed, feeling only slightly sated.  Anticipating years to come, a life before me, if I am at all fortunate enough, to yarn-work, exercise, puzzle, and the like.  On our final days at the home away from home, I had an opportunity to spruce the house up, go to the beach with two of my favorite gals, and hunker down for some coming delightful work.  Just polished off Ashby's dress and we're flying in style.  Sun, pink, hobbies, perfection.

And it's time for a break from the sun and hustling around town running errands, tidying the house, and getting ready to shut it down for a while.  We are looking for some around the house objects, and it's definitely time for a visit to Skandia Thrift Store in Sister Bay.  It's where we've literally brought truckloads of the refuse that other folks have left at our house, and thank goodness, it was a years-long epic cleaning saga that won't even make the pages of the Unencumbered Woman.  You never know what's gonna catch your eye in a thrift store, and today was no exception.  I had a cd or two in hand, and Ashby was walking around with some sort of random tchotchke when I spied a few yarn-craft kits from way back in the day.

*something special* NEEDLEPOINT.

First, I laid my eyes on a glorious '70s era picture scenery with printed canvas and a full compliment of matching yarn--ding! ding! ding!  Hours and hours and hours of my younger years were spent crafting these needlepoint and embroidery kits.  Fully intact, I couldn't resist.  I must have at least a hundred hours to spare, right?  The kitschy country scene is perfect-o, and I can work it in the country, at home, at swim meets, perhaps even while on an exercise machine--who knows?  I'm feeling an urge to sink even further into the bliss of solitude, quiet craftdom, and pondering of the glorious summer sky, something that every soul deserves and few attain.

barnyard americana

Note the work available to me!  A large piece, meticulously preserved in somebody's craft room.  All colors intact and waiting to be categorized. Puzzling through the pattern is half the fun.  The finished product?  Again, after a lifetime of work, it could become anything.  Simple wall hanging? Perhaps. Wearable yarn-art? Even more likely.  I'm thrilled with the possibility.

needlepoint on canvas.  It's a meditation, plain and simple. 

But then there's more.  Just moments after I re-ignite the long-dead fire in my chest that is the desire to do needlepoint, my eyes fall upon a only half-finished vintage era bench cover that someone must have been crafting decades and decades ago.  I insist that the piece is vintage because it is of an era when women needlepointed seat-cushions for chairs (my Grandma, born in 1899). I also insist that the materials for this piece are beyond lovely.  The vintage 100% wool yarn, nicely packaged and preserved, the fine work, already complete on the piece, and the soft canvas, yellowed with time.  I'm in heaven.  I have long considered one of my callings to finish old afghans that folks had never finished, with the name "Afghans from the Attic".  So why not "Seat cushions from last century?"  It's all available, with a little rooting around at garage, thrift, and estate sales.  

tapestry wool. Perfection.

It's a mammoth undertaking, in size and in simplicity.  Nonetheless I'm captivated by it's simple beauty and the memory of my own Grandma and other women who taught me needle arts when I was a child.  Already the jokes are flying in my home. "Will you ever finish that thing?"  My reply? "Who cares? Now I have something to keep me alive!!!!"

And finally, a trip to Ellison Bay would not be complete without a puzzle.  Need to get back up north to start and eventually finish this ginormous piece.  2000 pieces, and a Ravensburger, no less!  This German company builds puzzles that are satisfying to the touch, to the eye, and are simple delightful to work with.  A few years back I was completely stumped by a 1000 piece Ravensburger, so who knows how long (the rest of my life) this might take.  I like undertaking an eternal project.

sunrise, cup of coffee, and this?  I'm done.