ThunderSnow.us

I finished this year’s mystery stole in August, just before I took off for ECVP. (The primary motivation for finishing was so that I could have a new lace project for the airplanes.) Due to my utter lack of cotton string, it languished in a drawer for months before I got around to blocking it last week.

Before:

After:

Blocking is magic! The lace pattern opens up and the fabric drapes beautifully.

This stole falls squarely into the realm of items I wanted to knit, but am not particularly likely to wear. Ever. I do think it’s lovely, though.

The laceweight Malabrigo is very soft. It’s a merino singles, and it develops a definite fuzz as it wears. It’s beautiful.

Pattern: Swan Lake, by Melanie Leesburg.

Photos featuring me are courtesy of Dan.

One of the things that makes Odiorne Point such a nifty place to walk around is that I know rather a lot about the park’s history. Although it is today the only stretch of undeveloped coastline in New Hampshire, it has a long history of human use and development. This is not the “untouched forests” sort of undeveloped.

For those who like to see spatial relationships of locations, follow along on the park map

This is the Odiorne family farmhouse. (On the map, it’s the cluster of buildings on the marsh side of Rt 1A (which is Ocean Boulevard).) John Odiorne settled land out here in 1632. (That year is being pulled from memory, and may be off by a bit. It was the early-mid-1600s, though.) This is the third house to stand on that site, and most of the outbuildings are long gone. There’s a barn with a (rapidly disappearing) greenhouse attached. The most recent inhabitant was Ralph Brown, who lived there after World War 2, and left the house to the state. The house and its land is now part of the park, and NH Parks has an office there.

From the house, if you cut perpendicular to the road, towards the shore, you find this spot. The monument was placed where (the former) Columbus Road meets the water, and honors the first settlement in NH, which was right around here. In 1620, David Thomson anchored the Jonathon in Little Harbor (just north of Odiorne Point), and built a “Great House”. The Odiorne family tradition is that the Great House site is directly across from the farmhouse - a location that was used as a gravel pit when Ocean Boulevard was built through this area, making any sort of archaeological excavation impossible.

Standing at the monument (which was originally placed at the end of Columbus Road in 1890-something (99?), then moved to the family cemetery behind the Odiorne farmhouse, then moved back to its current location just this spring - all of the landscaping around it is new as well) and looking down Columbus Road, which was lined with stone walls and trees. (For those looking at the map, Columbus Road is the path closest to the pond, connecting Ocean Boulevard with the shore.) Columbus Road was built in the mid to late 1800s, when spending summers at the seashore was becoming fashionable, and so people wanted easier access to the water here in northern Rye.

Also from the era of summers at the seashore, the Hotel Wentworth. These days, it’s operated by Mariott and called the Wentworth-by-the-Sea. Built in the 1870s or so, it was closed and more-or-less abandoned in the 1980s, and was restored and re-opened in 2003. It’s not actually in Odiorne, but is just north of the park, on the other side of Little Harbor.

There was a hotel of the same style, slightly smaller, built at the northern tip of Odiorne Point, called Sagamore House. It only operated for two seasons before burning to the ground, and was never rebuilt.

The thing I have the hardest time with is remembering that, although today Odiorne Point is almost all young forest, 100 years ago it was cleared. First for farming, then as fancy homes and lawns. Even 50 years ago, it was mostly cleared. For this reason, there’s a lot of quick-growing staghorn sumac at Odiorne. This plant is a “weed tree”, one of the first species to move in as cleared land returns to forest. It’s harmless (there is a poison sumac, but this is not it) and the branches have this fabulous fuzzy texture. (Thus the name.)

Later: The twentieth century, and how this land transitioned from private property to state park.

I spent about an hour walking around Odiorne Point this afternoon. The fall leaves are at their absolute best right now (Will. Not. Use. Leafpeeper. Language.) and, although I walk through some parts of Odiorne quite frequently, there are other parts I rarely see, and even more rarely when I have the luxury to stop and take photos.

These herons are starting to look a little drab, but I still love them.

And this small vine has leaves that turn a beautiful scarlet… but isn’t one you want to touch. Poison ivy is (to me) most recognizable in the fall. The color makes the leaves stand out more, at which point their characteristic triplet arrangement and droopy pose call themselves to my attention.

Almost all the fall flowers have gone to seed. I think these little fluffy seedheads are the asters that were blooming everywhere a month ago. I did see one aster in bloom, but it was looking pretty bedraggled.

Most of these clusters of juniper berries had fallen and were scattered below the tree. I don’t know if that’s natural, just the trees way of distributing seeds, or if there was some sort of foul play. Perhaps the chipmunks?

There are some biiig maple trees out in those woods. Most of them were originally decorative plantings, from when this land was private residences.

And of course the sky was that unbelievable October blue color and the sun was shining.

In fact, the sun was shining rather a lot. This salt marsh is the inland portion of Odiorne. Ocean Boulevard (NH 1A) runs between the marsh and the woods along the shore. I’ve seen maps from before the road was built, and the shore portion of Odiorne was almost an island. Now the south end of the marsh is cut off from the water by the road, and the north end is hindered by the bridge over Seavey Creek (the inlet channel). Salt marshes wither up and die without enough tidal flow, but this one seems to be holding up okay.

Check out the rest of the photos. I plan to post some more of them and write a bit about the park’s history, but I need to do some homework first!

As promised, more (and better!) shrug photos.

It’s so much more wearable with the sleeve length approaching that of my arms. I’ve been cuffing the sleeves because they’re a hair long. I blame row gauge. But I actually quite like the cuffs - I think they’re cute.

You can see the way the pattern continues across the back, and stays nicely on my shoulders. I’ve learned that the shrug will stretch over time, and not stay up quite so nicely by the end of the day. I’m really still learning about how different yarns and fibers will behave, and while I know some basics, I’m not always so good at applying them. I find myself much more often in the position of looking at an outcome and thinking “Oh yeah, that does kinda make sense. I should have anticipated that,” than in that of “Oh yeah, I knew it was going to do that.” (Of course, this is still better than “WTF? Why is it doing that?” Small improvements, yes?)

As for the seams,

I’m happy. They’re still not great, but I’ve learned a lot about how to seam reverse stockinette, and they’re good enough to awe the muggles. Most of the uneveness that remains is due to my having tension issues at the selvedge, rather than to a flaw in my seaming per se. (A side note: this photo is the best representation of the color. The others are too turquoise.)

All of these photos were shot by Dan, and more of them can be found here.

I also finally blocked the mystery stole, but as there is a wee matter of a baseball game tonight, I’m off to a friend’s house. Lace photos will have to wait.

I finished the Drop-Stitch Shrug the other day, sewed up the arm seams, and wore it down to Boston on Thursday. (We will ignore the fact that the patterns length for the sleeve seams is way too short, and I ended up safety-pinning the last few inches.)

Besides, re-seaming the sleeves will let me use my new seaming-on-reverse-stockinette skills, which developed over the course of doing those sleeves. First seam:

Second seam:

I figure by the time I get to third and fourth seams, they’ll be awesome. I finally figured out how to keep the seaming even, so now I just need to keep track of which loop is the closest to the selvage stitch.

I also wrapped up some holiday knitting… the photo below is there merely to taunt my family members.

At a party last winter (a wild college party, in fact), I lost the blue garter-stitch hat (based on Tychus) that I’d worn for several mountain climbing excursions and the entire previous winter. A while ago, I picked up the yarn for a replacement (two skeins of Reynolds Odyssey), but hadn’t actually done anything with it. Yesterday, I ducked into the Yarn Basket to pick up a (nother) skein of Bearfoot, and encountered a baby hat made with self-striping yarn and a cute spiraling texture pattern. Although I wasn’t wild about the yarn, I was quite taken with the spiral texture, and set about creating one for myself.

Using the Odyssey doubled and size 6 needles (it gets cold here), I cast on 80 stitches, and worked k2p2 ribbing for 4-ish rows. or until I had about an inch. Then I worked about 2.5 inches of the basic spiral pattern:

Row 1: *Knit 8, knit 2 together, yarn over*, repeat from *
Row 2: Knit

I found it easiest to treat the stitches immediately before the first k2tog as the row beginning, and ignore the fact that as the spiral grew, this beginning was moving around the hat.

I decreased 8 stitches every fourth row at that point, by doing an ssk immediately to the right of the k2tog stich. So, this first set of decreases was:

Row 1: *Knit 8, knit 2 together, yarn over; repeat from *
Row 2: Knit 6, *ssk, knit 8; repeat from * until last four stitches; ssk, knit 2
Row 3: *Knit 7, knit 2 together, yarn over; repeat from *
Row 4: Knit

And the second set was:

Row 5: *Knit 7, knit 2 together, yarn over; repeat from *
Row 6: Knit 5, *ssk, knit 7; repeat from * until last 4 stitches; ssk, knit 2
Row 7: *Knit 6, knit 2 together, yarn over; repeat from *
Row 8: Knit

When the spiraling k2togs got too close together to work the ssk, I quit doing the yos and just did the 8 k2togs on the last two rows. Cut the yarn, pull it through the last 8 stitches, pull it tight. Poof!

If I do it over, I’d definitely go up a needle size. This was too tight, even for my New Hampshire winter-loving self. But I love this yarn, and the subtle variations are even subtler when working with two strands together.