Did anyone get to see Stephanie at Powell's? I was too tired to go and I'm bummed out about it, but hey, you can only do what you can do.
Instead, I've picked up the Old Shale afghan
that will be a wedding gift for my cousin Stacey. It's the historic Feather and Fan (also known as Old Shale) lace pattern worked lengthwise on a 47" needle so the waves move the long way across the piece. I like how the scale is at play here: the pattern is usually worked with thin yarn on small needles, but here I use heavy worsted/bulky yarns on a size 11 needle. I have an oversized scarf worked this way that gets a lot of comments.
If you don't have a stitch dictionary, here's the pattern I'm using over an 18 stitch repeat:
Row 1: Knit
Row 2: Purl
Row 3: (K2tog) 3 times, (k1, yo) 6 times, (k2tog) 3 times
Row 4:Knit
Simple, (but you knew that.)
The yarn is Butternut Woolens Landscapes Thick and Thin 100% wool, BW Mohair Clouds brushed mohair, with the odd line of BW Homegrown 3-ply wool yarn. The variegated yarns are the North Meadow Creek colorway, the bright green is Pond and the heathered purple is Wild Plum.
Stacey's dad, my uncle Dave, was a cowboy when we were growing up. They lived out of town on a small holding in the Madison Valley at the foot of the Tobacco Root Mountains in southwest Montana. One summer we visited at the same time as the cows and calves needed to be moved to their summer range in the mountains and this work had to be done on horseback. I was so excited I about wet my pants. I loved my cousins and aunt and uncle, but I was CRAZY about horses.
Early in the morning us 5 kids, my uncle and my mom and a couple of no-nonsense blue heelers piled into the stock truck and drove a short ways up North Meadow Creek where the horses were kept. Stacey and I rode double on her fat Palomino, we didn't do much "herding", we were mostly trying to stay on because the Palomino insisted on jumping over every little gully which would make us squeal and laugh with the thrill of it all. Eventually we climbed to the top of a ridge and had lunch. I remember the sage green hills falling away and the valley hazy below and right behind us the rocky shoulders of the Tobacco Roots.
The barn at North Meadow Creek was shaded in purple and green when we rode out of the mountains and the beauty of the old corrals and weathered boards against the cottonwoods along the creek is burned in my memory.
We lost Dave early to cancer, I hope this afghan can give Stacey a bit of comfort.