Tag Archives: Fengari Fiber Arts

New Olympic World Record in the “Bobbled Bilodeau”

I had to start over. Twice.

By the time we took this photo, I was pretty chuffed with my progress and was gunning for the gold in the event. (Rick is still waiting by the phone for the modeling contract offers to start pouring in. As I said in the post, he’s very patient.)

However, when the judges reviewed the tapes, it seemed that I had added several gates at the top of the hill and had disqualified myself from that heat. The photo evidence was in: my hat was lumpy and getting lumpier with every round.

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The second round of out-ripping wasn’t as disheartening as you might suspect.

My secret? By February 18, I had watched so many hours of Olympic coverage that the lyrics to the new Nike spot had burned themselves into a prominent earworm in my head:

“It’s not how you start, it’s how you finish. It’s not where you’re from, it’s where you’re at. Everybody gets knocked down, how quick are you going to get up?”

Okay, just a small point of clarification, Nike: sometimes how you finish is a direct result of how you start.

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All philosophical nit-picking aside, where I “was at” was back in front of the TV in my red recliner with one new and one slightly used ball of lovely baby Alpaca wool.

I also had taken a quick jog down to Fengari Fiber Arts for a brief but intensely enlightening tutorial from Ann on what the hell “Rnd 1 Work 8 sc in ring. Do not join or ch 1 on this or foll rnds, work rnds in a spiral” means.

Plus, the Muse in White and Red had visited and I was in possession of an Olympic inspiration for an original creation.

Yes, I had aimed my crochet hook at a Bobbled Bilodeau, and I wasn’t going to holler “Crosby!” until I reached the summit. Er, hem.

Except somewhere along the way I realized they weren’t bobbles…

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… they were moguls, so I added an extra set just to make the course more technically challenging.

That’s how we do it in Canada. Plus we add fog so you can’t see where you’re going… more fun that way.

Yup. Canada shone in the Arctic sun that presided, at least a couple of times, over the best Olympic games I have ever enjoyed. Rick now loves hockey and is curious about curling. (Me: “Ever watched curling?” Rick: “No, but it’s like Eskimo bocce ball, right?”)

And my national-pride-o-meter got re-set to 33 million, give or take an Ol’ Bear or two.

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After those hockey games, things look a little different from under the ol’ Bilodeau.

Thanks, boys and girls.

Olympic Knitting

I am an Olympic knitter. Really.

It’s because I don’t usually watch TV.

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However, I am a rabid Olympics fan, and this addiction involves many, many hours of sitting in front of a TV screen. I don’t sit still well, so twenty-four years ago, I discovered that knitting is a great way to not sit still while sitting still.

So, every four years during the Winter Olympics, I knit something.

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So many options, so few hours of Olympic TV.

It doesn’t always end well–I’m thinking of that hideous brown pull-over that seemed like a good idea at the time– but it’s always a marvelous exercise at the anticipation and planning stages.

One of the best parts is the trip to buy yarn. The math is pretty simple: in Canada, it was always the dead of winter, the world desaturated and, except for the distinction between slush, ice, and snow, pretty much texture neutral.  The chance to wander aisles of hue and heft and soft fuzzy balls of potential loveliness was just irresistible to color-starved eyes.

And this year, I celebrated Happy Olympics Day by stopping in at fengari fiber arts in Half Moon Bay. Amazing little shop, but more on that in a future post.

For now, the trick is to choose the project based on how fat the wool is.

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Fine gauge is the rage…

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… but thicker is quicker.

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I’m in big trouble.

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And that’s all I’m going to say for now because I need to get the junk food organized for the opening ceremonies. But stay tuned… the Saga of the Knot begins tonight.