 Once upon a time, and it really had nothing to do with Easter, I got into knitting rabbits. They just kept multiplying and multiplying. It was a lot of fun. It brought lots of smiles to quite a few folks, including me. I call this guy, perched in his chair, my Dapper Bunny. He contrasts with Sweet Bunny (who has a stash of knitted carrots tucked into her handbag). Sweet Bunny wears felted slippers. She was designed by Patricia Ann Ford as part of her “Colleen’s Rabbits” series. Dapper Bunny had a designer too, but he’s lost a lot of IQ points since he was knitted and he’s forgotten who cooked him up.
Then there’s Bohus Bunny and Bow-Legged Bunny. Bow-Legged Bunny remembers that he was an old Sandra Magazine pattern, but other than that his origins (like Bohus’s) are cloaked in the fog of the antiquities. Pastel Bunny can’t remember her origins either. Big Eared Little Bunny Bunny knows that she was designed by Debbie Bliss as her Ballerina Bunny. She prefers not to dwell on that. And no, she does not own a tutu.
 
 I am a middle child. The sister between two brothers. My older brother is a master folk art craftsman. For several years, in between carpentry projects, he has worked to add fish to this table he built. Rainbow trout, bluegill, perch…and a few others I’m not enough of a fisherperson to positively identify. Four on top and one on each side. He decided he was ready to part with his creation and gave me this table for the Long Lake cottage. I wanted to make something for him in return. At my urging that he should select a sweater he’d like to wear, we settled on a fisherman knit cabled sweater. Very fitting because he is also an avid fisherman.
It’s a WIP (“work in progress”) for now. The weather will be warm before it’s an FO (“finished object”). There’s been a lot of frogging so far (“rip it, rip it”). But I am pleased with this fun, challenging project. I’m using a free Paton’s pattern published under a name so clumsy it doesn’t attract much attention: ”Dad’s Cardigan.” In a way, the clumsy name is refreshing. Anymore, knitting patterns carry some truly odd names that tell little about what it is. ”Dad’s Cardigan” suits me better than “George” or “Humanity” or “Intolerable Cruelty.” Unfortunately Paton didn’t proofread this pattern as well as one would hope, but the experienced will figure out the errors before too much damage is done. I’m posting corrections on my Ravelry project page as I knit along, starting from the simple (that it’s unlikely there are patterns for two different size smalls), to the more troublesome (three of the abbreviations within the cable panels are incorrect). See Noreen1009 on Rav.
I plan for this being an awesome warm sweater. But I think my fiddling with sticks and string is no match for this beauty of a table. Thank you big brother!
 This, from another 1917 knitting booklet. The leggings look like bandages. The shoes seem to be dress shoes, not fit for play. Same for the shorts. His sweater is the only comfortable piece of clothing poor Donald Jr. was allowed to wear that day. And what of the expression on his face? Bored? When the photo shoot was over did he rip that sweater off and head on to a life of privilege. Or something else?
How about this Cover girl?
She looks more pleased with her outfit than young Donald. Both sweaters make ample use of the mainstay of knitting–garter stitch. Plain old knitting. The first stitch every knitter learns, maybe with a rhyme like this one to help her remember how to do it: “In through the front door, around the the back, open the window, and off jumps Jack.”
 It was a dark cold night. It was a dark cold very cold night. It was a dark very cold noisy night. It was a very dark very cold very noisy night in January in Montmorency County. Must be crazy people were once again driving cars over snowy slick roads at high speeds while spectators watched them slide fast around corners packed ten people deep. There were no published accounts of collisions with deer this year. No drivers were seriously hurt. Many cars were scathed, as in the opposite of unscathed. It was Sno*Drift (and that’s no asterisk it’s a snowflake). It’s the only winter rally in the national Rally America Championship series. The race is held on a Friday and Saturday in late January. It takes place completely on Montmorency County backroads. The last leg of the race, when Steve took these photos in 2009, is run in the dark. Yipes. The County has hosted the rally for 44 consecutive years. The event draws drivers with international reputations and backers, but also wannabes who come with a passion for the sport and a shoestring budget. If racing is your thing, this is a “do not miss” unusual “Pure Michigan” event.
Yes, that’s on ice and snow, on back roads, dodging deer, in January, partly in the dark.
 
Ninety-three years ago, this young woman modeled fashionable knitted tennis wear on the cover of The Corticelli Yarn Book, “Lessons in Knitting and Crochet.” The book contained an extensive assortment of fashions for men, women, children, soldiers and babies. It was published by the Corticelli Silk Mills of Florence, Massachusetts. Odd little crochet do-dads dangling in front, but other than that, somewhat modern styling. Nice subtle color combination too. Seems to hold up rather nicely, especially figuring this model was likely born in the 19th century.
“Holding up rather nicely” isn’t what comes first to mind for the “Silk Dresden Sweater” featured on the book’s inner cover page, though. I don’t think knitters with a vintage knitting bent are going to be lining up to knit this one, “posed” here by “Mrs. Vernon Castle:”
 Jared Flood’s wonderful new knitting book, “Made in Brooklyn,” is filled with updated classic designs. Some of them, like Quincy, seem inspired by Elizabeth Zimmermann (a knit designer Flood admires). The regular reader of my blog knows I admire EZ too. Quincy is constructed of garter stitch, “I-cord” borders (we are too politically correct to call them “idiot cords” anymore), and mobius construction. A mobius is a mathematical surface with only one side, formed by giving a half twist to a rectangular strip. Much of Flood’s work has a strong sense of sculpture. It will take even an experienced knitter a good bit of time to figure out how this was knitted. It is a wonderful pattern, knitted here in Lamb’s Pride Brown Sheep Bulky.
 Fletcher’s Pond, with a surface area of 8,970 acres, is one of the largest inland lakes in Michigan. It is a flooding created in 1935 by the Alpena Power Company. The pond is shallow (no deeper than about 12 feet) and weedy–just the sort of lake where big bass and monster pike hang out. Every mid-February, anglers assemble to try to catch the biggest pike and the biggest perch and all the sizes in between. Carhartt Kid and his dad added a 28-incher to the well. Every colored ball is a pike on its own stringer. It was still early in the day and the biggest pike in the well was just over 32 inches. Last year’s winner was 40 inches.
This angler was intent on augering holes for his tip-ups, undeterred even though the front end of his truck was sinking through the ice. First things first, I guess. The ice was mostly about 20 inches thick, but he’d driven over an especially weedy section that hadn’t frozen solidly.
 Knitting hats is pretty much instant gratification. If you make a mitten, you have to make another. If you make a sock, same thing. A bored knitter, or for that matter an adventurous one, can create mismatched pairs. Still, such things must happen in twos. But not hats.
It also helps, paraphrasing Elizabeth Zimmermann, that people will put almost anything on their head. And since heads come in all sizes, a knitter with a bunch of humans in her vicinity can forget about stitch gauge.
This hat is “Amanda,” a free pattern by Gina House of Londonderry, New Hampshire. (Ravelry’s Sleepy Eyes). Ravelers have already knitted it 1570 times. Mine is knitted of Malabrigo merino worsted, in the Snowbird colorway.
Next, is Kate Atherly’s Spider Hat. It’s a cute creepy knit.
 Below, from left to right, is a seeded stitch hat using Debbie New’s cellular automaton technique where you apply a bit of math to create a pattern. Maybe Debbie’s degree in microbiology and raising eight children is the necessity that influenced her inventiveness. Next is Wendy Keele’s Tassled Pull On Cap, minus the tassles. And Mary Dominski’s Celtic Braid Hat in yarn from Blackberry Ridge Woolen Mill.
 
 It was 1917. The Corticelli Yarn Book, “Lessons in Knitting and Crochet” published by the Corticelli Silk Mills in Florence, Massachusetts provided “instructions to help the women throughout the country who are at this time utilizing every available moment in the making of warm and comfortable garments for the boys who have responded to the call of our country in its present crises.” Women were cautioned to knit in either “gray (Oxford) or khaki” or “light Oxford” for the Navy. Corticelli supplied patterns for a sleeveless sweater (above), a “sleeping cap,” two different wristlets, a muffler, an “abdominal belt,” a “cap for convalescents,” a cap and scarf set, socks, bedsocks and a helmet liner (below). A “comfort set” would be the sleeveless sweater, wristlets and a muffler (scarf). ”The knitting should be done evenly and firmly and drop stitches should be avoided. The stitches should not be cast on too tightly. The garments should be free from lumps and knots, especially the socks, as they are liable to blister the feet.”
 Today, Ship Support is “supporting America’s troops deployed in the War on Terror–one stitch at a time.” The items need to be “closely knit or crocheted for warmth,” knit in colors suitable for men. ”Women in the military prefer these as well.” Land’s End has teamed up with the Sailors’ Society to have us knit wooly hats for chilly sailors. Knit for the Navy is looking for afghans. Knitters are busy knitting glommits (a combination glove/mitten) and gauntlets (shooters gloves) for soldiers in Afghanistan. The need continues and those who chose to knit for soldier and sailor relief organizations knit because they care.
Does this young one look too ready for the wars to come? He modeled for Corticelli in 1917.
 Click here to listen at the Cornell ornithology site for the drumming of a ruffed grouse. Click here to listen to what the lake was doing today. As the ice cracks, especially with temperature changes when the sound isn’t muffled by a lot of snow, the entire surface of Long Lake becomes an acoustic membrane. The lake sounds today didn’t suddenly start rat-a-tatting super fast, like the grouse at the end of his drumming. And the linked lake recording by sound artist Andreas Bick was made through a hole in the ice that amplified the “boinging.” So, Long Lake wasn’t sounding as much like Han Solo’s light saber as in Bick’s recording. But every few minutes the ice was singing in low, amplified burps of sound. Eerie. Beautiful. A little like ruffed grouse. A little like Star Wars. A little like whale song. A little like nothing I ever heard before.
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