Been working.

 Went shopping for thread and buttons the other week. When I get to the shop, I find that I have forgotten to bring my snippet of fabric. Ah, well, I didn't do too badly then. I have always been able to carry a colour in my head. It is a useful ability, but can be a bit of a curse when I want to put two colours together and they are not close enough to be a match, but too close to be a contrast.

 This is what it was for - some fabric that has been in the stash for so long that I can't remember where I bought it. The pattern is even older, but I love it - roomy and comfortable, and so easy to work in. It came from the Burda magazine, back in the early '90s, and I have always thought of it as "The Hungarian Shirt" although to be truly authentic, I think it should not have the collar - just the band.

Meanwhile I have reached a crisis point with the Kauni Cardi - body finished, and ready to cut the steeks. Am I ready for this? I am going to let it have a little rest before I tackle the task. It has been a bit of a pig to work on lately anyway, it gets larger and the weather doesn't get any cooler. It is the wrong time of year to have a lapful of lovely rough wool!

Two photos of the same piece - it will be a Nearly-Guernsey for the grandaughter, but neither daylight not flash seem able to produce the intensity of the colour - it is the fullest deepest purple I have ever found. I remember there were dubious comments when I chose a fairly deep purple to knit a sweater, in my teens. It was not regarded as suitable for a young lady. What I really wanted was black. I was able to swing charcoal grey, a year or so later, and was much envied for it. There is a lot less dictating these days. Sometimes it is bad - you see some strange sights, and wonder if the wearers have actually looked in a mirror with honest eyes, but, in general, there is so much more freedom from censure.