Last night the little shit had me and the husbeast up every hour. First it was hunger, then it was a nightmare, and after that it was just for the hell of it. (That is when we quit going and getting her, and when she began yelling for ten minutes at a time before going back to sleep.) This left me with roughly the mental capacity of a trout this morning, just in time to drive up to Columbia and rescue my knitting from the wankers at the state fair. (Well. Let me specify; the judges weren't anywhere to be found, and were wankers. The ladies and gentlemen volunteering today were perfectly pleasant.)
Here, for those who asked, is a final shot of the Blue Shimmer, finished.
Even after hanging up for a month, I'm STILL not sure about that length. I'm going to take the rest of the spool of yarn to Ohio with me for Christmas, and if it's too short, I'll do the old cut-the-hem-off, knit-in-more, graft-hem-back-on trick.
And here's a closeup of the yoke, because I still lovelovelove it and I finally figured out how to do closeups with the camera and odds are halfway decent it's in focus:
Picking up my knitting was very enlightening.
First thing when I got there, I took the baby to the rest room and realized there were no diapers in the diaper bag. So I blew it, but I still say it's the baby's fault for keeping me up all night. She wants diapers regularly, she needs to let me sleep.
There was a line, and I stood there with the baby, and people came up to chat. (Babies bring out everyone's Inner Grandparent, for good or ill.) One thing turned to another, and people started talking about the knitting divisions. Rumor has it that the knitting judges at the fair are so bad, people have all but quit entering. There were only three knitted lace entries, but at the time I figured, shit, it was lace, you know? There had been ten zillion tatting entries, but I thought that was probably because there's a very active tatting guild that pushed everyone to enter. That was only partly true. The major reason there's not much entered in the knitting category is because the judging is ridiculous.
So while I was mulling over THAT information, I went inside to pick up my stuff (claim checks required) and was met by a nice lady from the tatting guild. I gave her my claim checks and said "Oh, the blue lace over there's mine." to make it easy on her and not make her pick through a pile of stuff comparing numbers. The lady looked at the lace, looked at the ticket, and looked at me, and said, "YOU'RE THE ONE." (I was at my non-lace-knitter-stereotype best in Birkenstocks, jeans, and a Chicago Blackhawks hockey jersey.)
One what, you ask?
Turns out the entire tatting guild wanted to know who I was, what I knit that lace with, where the pattern came from, how long it took me, who I learned from... We had a nice chat. I was invited to join the tatting guild with the reassurance that they'd be thrilled to teach me, but I'm in Charleston and they're two hours away. We agreed that it sucked. She then expressed her outrage at my second place ribbon and muttered about firsts. Heh heh heh.
Damned red ribbon, shown here.
So, anyway, we're back home with the hand-knits, and I'm plotting next year's lace project. A Beloved Reader tells me that this year's winning lace entry can be found (the pattern, not the lace itself) in "A Gathering of Lace" so I'm going to hunt up a copy and see about knitting it. That way if I get another red ribbon next year, I can file a formal complaint. Or something. (Speaking of, someone else picking up projects when I was, was royally pissed and demanding to talk to the knitting judge about why her cable-knit didn't place, and why NO ribbons were given out in the ladies' sweater division.)
Now I have to try to get motivated to knit one of these damn scarves.