Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category
Chevalier!
Recently, a coworker asked me to make her a pair of mittens and didn’t really have any preferences. She just wanted them to be warm. After searching through many mitten pattern, and deciding on several different ones, I decided to let the yarn be my guide. I spent a good hour at the yarn store looking at all the different wooly yarn, waiting to be inspired. I didn’t quite get the inspiration I needed, but I couldn’t pass up the Shepherd’s Wool: so soft and great colors (made in Michigan, too!).
I spent a little time swatching and more time searching for patterns and finally selected Chevalier. These are mittens I’ve always really wanted for myself but never got around to it. It is a good thing my friend has smaller hands than me, or I would have a hard time giving these up!
Because “warm” was the only requirement, I knew I had to do a little something extra. Having recently finished my Fiddlehead mittens, I was armed with a new technique of lining mittens (and enjoying the results every day!). I decided that lining these mittens was the right way to go. In order to make this work nicely, I used the i-cord cast on, just like Fiddlehead. This give you a place to pick up and start knitting the liner without it showing.
Pattern: Chevalier Mittens
Yarn: Shepherd’s Wool in Midnight Lake for the outer and ggh Kid Melange for the inner
Needles: Size 5 US for the outer and 4 US for the inner
Modifications: Replaced the standard cast on with an i-cord cast on; added fuzzy warm liner
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 41
Chapter 41
“You go talk to people, a lot of people you find out what they know. No one knows the whole story, but you get bits and pieces.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 40
Chapter 40
“Oh,” I reminded her of everything, again, “hello, Joe.” Milly was dressed to go out, and a woman who can only be her sister dressed to go out behind.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 39
Chapter 39
I settled down to wait. I was starting to get hungry for lunch when the phone finally rang at one. “Spline.”
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 38
Chapter 38
I took a taxi back to the office. I didn’t want to try to wrestle a car myself with the sling on the left. I was also worried the dangers of driving wouldn’t get through the last pill I’d taken a couple hours back. It was early morning, the city sputtering as I stepped onto the sidewalk. What day was it? Thursday today, a little over a week since I’d left. I first headed to the Picot, a breakfast would help. An American breakfast would help, more than what I’d been eating.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 37
Chapter 37
It was still Greek to me. Cronides assured me it was knitting instructions in English. It had been written in Greek on the beams of Rolf’s enclave. Cronides thought Rolf had excavated a bit already, found it in the town underneath his little kingdom. Cronides had some books to write still.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Later, think about it later. What the hell was going on? I aimed to bowl Stash over, got the old legs going, I was having a hard time not thinking. First one now the other, what was going on? Stash was out of the way by the time I arrived to knock him down, they were slugging it out in the road now. How was Dahlia going to win this? Where was the gun, I headed across the road where it might have gone. Hadn’t Dahlia brought a gun?
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 35
Chapter 35
I hurt all over. Someone was shouting nearby. My hands wouldn’t move so good, I was lying on the ground. I tried to open my eyes, I had to blink something red away, must’ve been conked on the head. I could see a man, the professor, kneeling just in front of me, Stash was standing behind him looking over the professors head. Stash was doing the shouting, it didn’t make sense yet. I tried to get my hands to move, now I could see someone had tied them up with dirty rope. The professor didn’t look so cheerful now, gray, tired. I couldn’t see Jack.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 34
Chapter 34
“Ahwright, Joe, ere we are, mah agent should be ere ahlready, we can find zis Cronides, and see what she is ze toot!” Even a run-down Esperanto enclave had to have breakfast. We cheered up a lot, trotted.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 33
Chapter 33
The woman in the smart uniform took a lot of my money, and gave me back a ticket. “Any luggage?”
“No, ma’am, I don’t have any luggage. thanks.”
She screwed up her nose, “Report to door C at midnight exactly.” Clearly you were supposed to have luggage, but I needed this trip to be short.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 32
Chapter 32
I poured a drink and drank it. A guy like me can forget that he’s solving problems for people, focus just on the problem. The people still get upset.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 31
Chapter 31
This left me time on my hands. Eight-thirty. I needed to check my own messages, but I owed Passaro a call, too. And Dahlia, and Stash. I dialed up my messages first.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 30
Chapter 30
By the payphone outside the Picot, I found the Binding number in my notebook. Six rings, Mrs. Baine answered, irritated, “Hello?”
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 29
Chapter 29
I came to, the lights were still on. My head hurt. It was doing that a lot lately. I indulged in a groan or two before getting to my feet.
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The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Then it was really confusing. My ribs hurt, my head hurt, a ton of bricks landed on my chest, and it was dark. A cry nearby, struggle, heavy breathing, whispers, a gasp from my poor squashed lungs. Then light.
The Knitting Lesson Chapter
Gentle Readers,
I am perhaps overly proud of Chapter 27, to be posted in a moment. It has The Knitting Lesson Scene in it, among other things. I’d appreciate any comment or advice on the knitting scene, we need to believe that Spline is really trying, that Sofakissen is really trying to ease him in. Indeed, I’d appreciate comment on any of this writing so far. Good, bad, indifferent? Keep mah day job? All welcome, either in comments here, or to nigel dot kerr at gmail dot com.
cheers,
Nigel
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 26
Chapter 26
“Frieda, I need to tell you something.”
She looked up, alarmed, “Yes?”
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 25
Chapter 25
The phone brought me out of the chair and hard onto the floor, my glass flying off somewhere to shatter. It was still night outside, but late. The second ring. I pulled myself up by the desk, swept for the phone, finally got it on the fourth ring. Yawning, “Spline.”
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 24
Chapter 24
It was mid afternoon. “We’re going to need cash to get the word out best. I’ll stop by the office and pick some up, Meet at Sofakissen’s apartment building and start from there.”
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 23
Chapter 23
The building super came along ten minutes later. After getting down in one piece, we found the two weekend-working attorneys tied up in the furthest back office. The same thin, tough yarn used to snare me. Of course someone called the police. This wasn’t good, I had other places I wanted to be. I also couldn’t afford to rile the boys. Why hadn’t Fringle just barged in on me? That would have been quieter.
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Driving, I tried to plan the day. I had wanted to gum-shoe in the Bonneville, but that had been before the fake Rosalind packet had arrived last night. Rosalind would not be at the library today, Saturday. I would have to track her down Monday to confirm my suspicion that she hadn’t sent it. But I was sure she hadn’t.
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Foley even dozed some while I pointed the Grumler at the nearest diner. It wasn’t a usual, but that was fine. My goons came along after us. Glancing at Foley, carelessly asleep, I had a flash of professional pride and satisfaction: I must be on the side of good and true, escorting this classy act around. Linda’s crew was probably jealous.
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Waiting for me back at the office was waste-basket of bills, and a second packet from Rosalind. She had one clipping freshly torn from a newspaper, and a type-written sheet. The clipping was Greek to me, the sheet confirmed this: item from a couple weeks back in an ex-pat newspaper, then translated. Grainy picture of a building with a clock tower.
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 19
Chapter 19
At the payphone in the lobby of the bank, I dialed the Downtown station. I still had an in down at the station, and I wanted him to check the lists for me. Sofakissen might have turned up somewhere, or been seen. If I was really lucky, she’d have won a brawl somewhere, a scent or lead for me to catch. “First Precinct, Front Desk, how can I direct your call?”
The Slip of the Stitch: Chapter 18
Chapter 18
From the pay phone just down from Dahlia’s brownstone, I checked my messages: courier from Jack early next morning on the first flight. Clap I caught at his work number, he said to come on up.
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