The Epic of Benjawulf, because I brought this thing back to life with a parody of a classic once, so I might as well do it again.

Lo! Many things of most interesting results have happened

To me, my family and our assorted felines

Since a post was last put upon this blog.

We  have journeyed far, and no longer live on a farm,

but in a lovely house, that we do not call Heorot. Unfortunately,

It is completely true, though it would be very convenient if it weren’t.

In this birthplace of Starbucks and the businessmen

Who buy their coffee there, we have lived contentedly for a year.

Most of us being underage, mead has not been drunk from tankards,

Though my sister has learned the secrets of french-press hot chocolate,

Which surely makes up for a lack of mead.

But these happy days were soon to end. For a demon,

A God-forsaken creature, a fiend from Hell

Crept into our home one hot summer’s day,

Just a week or two ago. With brazen scuttlings

That spider had scurried up the wall, and I had not

Noticed it whilst I was sweeping the floor.

I let out a surely and terribly embarrassing shriek,

And began to panic at the thought of being forced to capture

the horrible creature. For twelve seconds, I stood beholding the thing

Thin and two inches in diameter, with leg-span, the very picture of the Devil’s

Servant. But Lo! Benjawulf did come running to help, brave soul.

“Where’s the spider?” he asked, “For I have come to slay it for you.”

I indicated the spot where the spider lay, not moving, watching, it seemed.

“Wow!” Benjawulf cried, all wonder. “Do I really have to kill it?”

“YES.” Said I. “It is a scourge upon the wall of our house,

and I find it truly more awful and terrifying than anything else.”

“Okay, Hreleanor, I’ll get rid of it for you, have no fear.”

I watched, still in fear, as Benjawulf readied himself for battle.

A plastic glass did he grab, and a piece of scratch paper.

Then the spider twitched, and Benjawulf sprang.

For maybe three minutes did they battle, the spider

Leaping for the cover of the back of a cabinet,

Benjawulf following, moving the furniture to find the fiend.

He nudged it with the paper, poked it with the cup,

And finally he twisted his wrist, and with a gleam in his eye

Brave Benjawulf, son of Ecgthedave, captured the spider.

It was released outside, far from the house, and we all rejoiced.

Since then two more spiders of similar prodigious size

Have been found. Both times they have haunted the shower,

But Benjawulf and his companion Joshlaf have been called

to remove the devilish creatures, with success each day it happens.


I’m really glad we don’t live in the part of Washington that has black widows.


Leave a comment

Posted by on September 10, 2015 in Uncategorized


Tags: , , , ,

Watson, Edge, and the Confounding Pokeberry Hunt, or, Gosh, Have I Really Been This Neglectful?

Hello, there, folks. I’m still alive. Sorry about the month-long absence. This regular trips to the library thing really isn’t good for my blogging habits.

Anyway, I’m back, and I’m really happy about the weather here in Missouri. Today I went for my first wander through the fields since June. It was wonderful. I was listening to Watson & Edge’s Tears of Joy album and I had no aim in my rambles except A., Don’t Encounter Any Spiders Under Any Circumstances and B., Keep an Eye out for Pokeberries. It was the most peaceful experience I’ve had (except for the constant worry about spiders) in a while. I took lots of pictures, and the computer is running like a dinosaur now because of the extra windows I’ve got open.

IMG-20140916-00293I found this funny old thing by the creek that runs through our land. I have absolutely no idea what it is, but it’s weird and I liked it.

IMG-20140916-00299 I don’t know what these are either. Possibly in the bluebell family? It’s all Greek to me. (Cue my mother berating me for learning nothing from the botany course I took four years ago)


IMG-20140916-00308Our dear old creek bed


IMG-20140916-00312Another view of the creek bed. I like the way this one turned out.

IMG-20140916-00317This one’s a fair bit blurrier, but it’s a nice view all the same

IMG-20140916-00321And now we have our lovely little hillside for picnics… never mind the fact that this little hillside is nearly a vertical one.

IMG-20140916-00323This was taken from eye-height, and I’m about 5’4”. The grass is REALLY TALL.

IMG-20140916-00325And now we’ll look at a happy little tree…

IMG-20140916-00326…and a really old storm shelter. I can’t exactly remember how old it is, but I think the date carved on the upper right hand side is somewhere around October, 1911. Or 1913, or something like that. I think I remember a seven. I could be totally wrong.


I also discovered some abandoned outerwear by the storm shelter. A Santa Claus hat and a pink plaid jacket, to be exact.

About twenty minutes after that, I discovered that I had sat down with my feet in a pile of ants. They didn’t look particularly happy to see me, so I tromped home to shake my clothes out before the ants got higher than my socks.

Anyway, I’ll shut up now. Evelyn, having started part-time enrollment at the local public school, has to be up at some ridiculous hour, and I’ve got to be up to babysit the others while Mom drives her to school. Don’t worry, I’ll try to be better at this blogging thing. Thank heavens for my friend Regan though… She reminded me today that it had been a month since my last post, motivating me to type/upload all this to alleviate some weird sense of guilt. I don’t understand it, and I don’t try to. The workings of my mind are a mystery that I’m not going to start poking at any time soon. Okay, I’ll actually shut up now.


Leave a comment

Posted by on September 17, 2014 in Uncategorized


Discontinuing Atlantis

No, not some weird science/fantasy thing I’ve decided to write. Though that could be fun. It’s actually a yarn colorway offered through Knitpicks. They’re having a sale right now on their Chroma Worsted line so they can make room for a bunch of new colorways. I find it a bit funny that when they could be discontinuing the grey or black or bittersweet heather colorways, they are discontinuing the Atlantis colorway.

Anyway… um… Hold on. My train of thought went careening into a ditch.

Oh, yeah! I finished a level of math today, Teaching Textbooks’ Math Seven, which took absolutely forever even though I schooled through the summer, and it was outrageously painful the whole darn time. Now I get to figure out how the heck we’re going to wrangle things so I can start pre-algebra. (What idiot decided to put letters in math? That was the stupidest idea since country music.)

Also, I finished Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett. For an expert fraud, I have to say that Moist von Lipwig is one of the most enjoyable discworld characters since Sam Vimes and Nanny Ogg. My dear friend Regan (Hello! Do tell me how your shawl-ish thing is coming along, as soon as you can get to a computer!) will be happy to hear that I promptly started the first book in the Youngest Templar trilogy. She will probably be less happy to hear that for whatever reason, Critiquing/Editing Eleanor has been activated, and post-it notes and index cards have been recruited for rather extensive note-taking purposes. It’s a pretty good book, and so far I’d definitely recommend it to anyone interested in Medieval-y Crusade-y books, but regrettably the fact remains that the word ‘okay’ did not exist until the 1940s, and only in America for several years. It took a while for it to catch on in other countries. It did not exist in 1191 England.

It could be that it’s just irking me because Moby Dick has been dreadfully slow these past few days, and I’m starting to see why people kind of cock their heads to one side and smile these funny, worried little smiles at me and say, “Well… Okay…” when I happen to mention that I’m reading Moby Dick for literature.

As a story, it’s great! It’s a swashbuckling tale of retribution and revenge and all that stuff, with interesting characters, and a well-thought-out plot.

But really… I could have done without two or three or four whole chapters on the difference between a Right Whale’s head and a Sperm Whale’s head. Don’t get me wrong, I like big complicated books that I can sink my teeth into, even if I sometimes have to read a paragraph-long sentence five times before I get the basic gist of it… But this is a little nuts.

Sigh. Three chapters a day, and I should have it done in about nineteen days. I think I can make it. In the meantime, I have to go to bed, because it is horrifically late here in Missouri, and I am tired, so I’ll try to write a blog post with some actual purpose tomorrow or the next day, and for now I’ll just shut up. 🙂


Leave a comment

Posted by on August 15, 2014 in Uncategorized


Homeschooling is three-and-a-half-foot-long library recipts.

Photo: Library-ing, homeschooling style. :D

My brother Joshua, shortly before the eight of us (counting Mom) took our seven or eight bags of books out to our elderly and temperamental nine-seater suburban.

And that, folks, is what has been keeping me busy lately, along with probabilities, square roots, negative numbers, essays on Mars, Moby Dick, a science module on the human digestive system, and a very cool book by Dierdre Le Faye (Could have some of that wrong, not sure) about Jane Austen, which has proved helpful for a Somewhat Complicated Project that I have appointed as a fill-in of sorts for history, as people tend to think that kind of stuff important. I’m not sure whether it’ll actually be useful in the long run, but at least I’ll know a lot about Georgian and Regency era fashion.

We’ve actually been doing really well about getting our library books back on time, lately, even if we return them the day they’re due after keeping them as long as is possible. And… I got Benjamin to read the Vesper Holly books, all six of them. I never expected to see my brother fangirl, Benjamin being the calm, quiet, capable person that he is. (Example: He killed three wasps for me this afternoon while I dithered and panicked just outside the room. He came out smiling a little bit and nonchalantly swinging the fly swatter. My dignity wasn’t wounded AT ALL) Nevertheless, over the past couple of weeks I have, quite frequently, walked into the living room and found him upside down in a chair, heels bouncing on top of the chair, clenching one of the books in a death-grip, and giggling/moaning/smiling/muttering/pumping his fists in an upside-down victory stance/shaking the book and lamenting about the fact that Dr. Helvitius (That most vile of creatures) has escaped once again. And, to top it off, just before starting the sixth book, he made sure that Vesper and Brinnie and Mary and Smiler and Slider and the Weed/Toby came back, and warily asked me whether Helvitius came back.

Yes, Benjamin. I know, Benjamin, he just won’t die. Sorry, Benjamin. Don’t worry, Benjamin, it’ll be okay. Don’t choke on your lunch, Benjamin.

And then, when he finished it, I thought he would never stop bouncing, let alone smiling. I think he’s glad I made him read them, which is good.

…On a side note, I just learned that America is best known for pizza delivery and software, which is sort of sad…

In other news, Dad has COMPLETELY FINISHED watching the Lizzy Bennett Diaries, Evelyn is going to enroll part-time in the local-ish public high school, mainly for an ACT-prep class, and Evelyn’s Arch Nemesis Matthew is moving into his college dorm tomorrow. Evelyn has been comforting him for the past half hour, assuring him that he will be fine, and that he will be the Matthewest Matthew they ever saw, and that when he struts in there, he is going to completely Matthew it up. All the way, I guess. Apparently he also needs eight-foot speakers to follow him around for when he introduces himself in a James Bond-esque fashion, so that dramatic music can play in the background. Funny that she’s having so much fun with this, considering they absolutely hate each other, and have vowed to be Arch Nemeses for all eternity.

Also, Maisy came back from the library with a Care Bears movie. It is quite possibly the weirdest and stupidest thing I have ever seen, before I ran away and hid with Going Postal. That rainbow syrup looks like it causes body-wide cancer. The wishing star looks like the kind of thing that is sweet in a kind of concerning way until you turn your back. Then it latches on with its stubby, brightly colored tentacles and sucks the life out of you. The whole plot (what there is of it) is ridiculous! It reminds me of Susan’s version of Jack and the Beanstalk in Hogfather:

And then Jack chopped down what was the world’s last beanstalk, adding murder and ecological terrorism to the theft, enticement and trespass charges already mentioned, and all the giant’s children didn’t have a daddy any more. But he got away with it and lived happily ever after without so much as a guilty twinge about what he had done… Which proves that you can be excused just about anything if you’re a hero, because no one asks inconvenient questions.  – Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett

So far, in this cutsey-wutsey little movie filled with brightly-colored bears who live on a pale pink cloud, we have encountered: manipulation/mind control, depending on how you look at it, power abuse, overworking to within half an inch of the victim’s bright, cuddly life with no respect to the limitations of the victim’s abilities, resulting in ecological vandalism, civic unrest, attempts at enticement, and as a final, devastating result to crown the whole thing… (prepare yourselves, folks…)

There’s not enough caring in Care-a-lot!!!!!! Whatever will we do?!?!?!?!?! If we can’t miraculously conjure up a plan out of our practically empty brains, that big, scary storm cloud on the pale pink and blue horizon will engulf Care-a-lot in misery and damp despair!!!!!!!!!!!!! But whatever we do, we have to do it with unhealthy amounts of optimism, bad planning, and a few musical numbers!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And most likely, NOTHING WILL WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!But don’t worry, because if we all care as much as we possibly can, and be the very nicest bears we can be (Even grumpy bear!!!!!!) then surely by the end we’ll be ready for a great big song and dance routine about how great things are when you care, with all of our friends singing and dancing by our side!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As you can see, I don’t have a high opinion of the Care Bears. That movie is cheesier than a block of cheese. I kid you not. I’m going to need a great big dose of Moist von Lipwig and Adora Belle Dearheart (the most unlikely couple I have ever encountered) before I’ve fully recovered from that. Blue’s Clues and the Wonderpets are all the world needs, really. I can tolerate those. In any case, it’s only ten days until Deep Breath, the first episode of Doctor Who series eight broadcasts. I live in hope of maybe sitting in a McDonald’s parking lot or something like that and watching it online or something. That would be cool. I’ve heard that the Doctor gets grumpy, and tells Clara and a dinosaur and everybody to shut up, and Clara gets annoyed. That’ll be interesting. I haven’t seen much in the way of annoyed/angry Clara yet. 🙂

Anyway, I’m sitting right by an open window, and it’s getting a little cold, and this is already 1,024 words long, which means I’ve probably gotten on my soapbox a little bit somewhere about something, so I’m going to shut up.


Leave a comment

Posted by on August 14, 2014 in Uncategorized


Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Princess Piggy story

Hello folks. Sorry I kind of disappeared for a while. Life and library books got in the way, along with science. I now know way more about the human digestive system than I ever wanted to know. And I’m still not done with the module yet.

So anyway, last night I looked at the desktop of the main computer shared by the whole family. We don’t often see the actual desktop, because there’s usually a word document open, or a Zillow page, or a picture someone was toying with, or a PDF file or a knitting pattern, ect.

It was a mess.

There was row upon row upon row of icons and files and folders and thumbnails and programs and documents and shortcuts and EVERYTHING. Antarctica was probably hiding in there somewhere. Our (I’m just as guilty as everyone else) default idea of a good place for a file is usually the desktop, which is what caused that mess. If we’re in a hurry, and we need to save a file somewhere where we’ll remember it and be able to find it, we put it in the desktop. But then we can usually never find it again. EVER. That hasn’t stopped us. We just say, “Save ALL the files!!!”

However, that has now been fixed. There are four rows of neatly organized icons. Two rows of programs, and one and a half rows of folders.

This caused the Middlings to be a bit surprised.




I think they were pleased. It’s hard to say.

One of the things that they found that had been right there on the desktop the whole time was Maisy’s Princess Piggy story, dictated by Maisy and typed by Mom.  I had the pleasure of being requested to read it. It’s pretty good, actually, considering that she made it up when she was about five and tended to backtrack a lot, changing her mind and changing it again, until you needed a REALLY BIG whiteboard and several colored markers to keep track of what was going on. Even so, it’s very abstract. But she’s adorable, and her story should be preserved for posterity in a form other than in a word document. You never know when a computer might crash, losing every single file for eternity. So here it is, slightly edited:


The Princess Piggy

Once upon a time there was a princess piggy. And there was a mean farmer. And she lived on a little farm and the princess used to have a mom and dad but they lost their little daughter piggy. And the princess piggy’s mom was a piggy. The princess piggy’s dad was a piggy. And the prince piggy was looking for the princess piggy for the party. and the princess piggy was at a little farm.

And there was little birds that could talk that knew what the Princess Piggy was saying, and she knew what they were saying. They were blue jays.

The Princess Piggy said, “Who are you?”

And the blue jay said, “I’m a blue jay. Do you know what my name is? My name is Kessie.”

And then the Princess Piggy said, “I need to go back to my family, to my kingdom. I have to see my mom and dad to celebrate the party so that the prince will chose which bride he wants to marry. And today is my birthday.”

And then there were two little rabbits. One was a boy, one was a girl, which was a mommy and daddy; and there were little baby rabbits, three boys, three girls, and one young baby.

And then the Princess Piggy said, “Who are you?”

“I’m Mama Rabbit,” said the mama rabbit.

And the mediumest girl said, “What’s your name?”

“I’m the Princess Pig, but I don’t have a name.”

And then the birds were from a long time ago, it was night time, and the keys were on a little handle. Then the birds opened the window with their powerful wings and then they finally got the keys off of the handle and brought them to the Mama Rabbit. And then the Mama Rabbit whispered and said, “The birds got the keys for you, Princess Piggy.”

Princess Piggy said, “Thanks.”

Then the birds put the key handle into the key hole and then the Princess Piggy was saved.

And then the birds knowed where the Princess Piggy’s castle was. And then they were flying and the Princess Piggy followed them and the little birds were flying so slowly so the Princess Piggy should walk. With her curly tail and little crown.

And then there was then forest which had lots of sleepeded. bats, which were all fast asleep. And then there was a little baby bat which woke up and then saw the Princess Piggy. Then the Princess Piggy said, “Yikes!”

Then the little bat said, “I’m nice. I know the way to your castle is.” Then it showed the way to the last shortcut. And then he saw half bit of the castle.

Then the Princess Piggy said, “Oh my goodness! I’m almost at my home!”

And then the little bad and the birds were flying slowly, and then they found the beautiful Christmas tree which was big at a normal tree. And there was little candy canes for a little snack, and little candy all over the tree. And there was a Princess Piggy angel at the top of the tree, which was outside, with all the candy. And the Princess Piggy said, “Oh my! It’s my home. It’s Christmas!”

And then the birds said, “Can we live with you, Princess Piggy?”

And the bat said, “Princess Piggy?? Are you a princess piggy?”

“Yes, I am,” said Princess Piggy.

“Can I live with you, Princess Piggy?” Said the bat.

“Yes,” said Princess Piggy.

Then birds said, “Yay!”

“And you too, little bat,” said Princess Piggy.

And the bat used his little teeth to open the gate. And the birds pushed open the gate. And then the Prince Piggy found the Princess Piggy and then the Princess Piggy was finally at home. And then the little bat flieded through the gate, and then the birds flew through the gate, and then the family of rabbits went through the gate. And the rabbits said, “Princess Piggy, can we live with you too?”

“Of course,” said Princess Piggy.

And then the Princess Piggy’s birthday on Christmas with the presents for all of her friends and family and mom and dad and pets, were eating food and having presents. And the rabbits and birds and littlest bad all had presents. And the Prince Piggy and Princess Piggy were finally in love.

The end.

Merry Christmas!!


And there you have it, folks. Maisy’s Princess Piggy story, preserved on the internet for posterity, with her permission. Let’s just hope she doesn’t regret giving it when she’s thirteen. 🙂

In other news, I listened to Owl City’s song Lonely Lullabies for the first time ever a few days ago, and I think it has broken me. It is outrageously sad and beautiful and adorable and sad. Go listen to it, but don’t hate on her, because feelings. Do a google search for the backstory, and you’ll see what I mean.

Anyway, the Philadelphia Adventure and my knitting are calling me, so off I go.


Leave a comment

Posted by on July 27, 2014 in Uncategorized


Don’t trust Dora!

According to common ideas about time travel and general common sense, traveling back in time to view your past self is possible. Dora the Explorer has demonstrated this fact for us:

Exhibit A: Past (and extremely horrifying) Isa, Tico, Boots, Benny, and Swiper. Don’t ask me how I know all this.


On the opposite end of that spectrum, we have the famed idea of “Hey, we could talk to future us! How cool is that?” a la Amy Pond in the series five episodes of Doctor Who, the Hungry Earth and Cold Blood (*Sob* How could you do that to Amy, Restac?) and once again, Dora the Explorer:

Exhibit B: Present-day Dora and Swiper talking to Future Dora. Once again, don’t ask how I know all this. Let’s just say it was basically the same situation as the one wherein Sam Vimes learned about the noble game of crockett. Down to the last detail.

But according to the most basic rules of everything, talking to one’s future self SHOULD NOT BE POSSIBLE.

Allow me to explain, before you all denounce me as a complete idiot.

Let’s say you have access to a time machine, preferably in the shape of either a Victorian-esque sleigh or a  1960’s police phone box (Blue, naturally. The bluest blue you ever saw) , because Victorian-esque sleighs and phone boxes are cool.

So. You have this very important thing you need your future self to remember (i.e., this test you need to take, or that blog post you wanted to write some day, or [if we’re going to get really theoretical here] the next Molly Fyde book is due on this day five months in the future) so you get in your time machine and throw the time roter, mess with the zigzag plotter, and push the blue boring-ers, along with a bunch of other levers and buttons. You also stroke the time machine and sing it a song for maximum effect. You wind up about four and a half months after you left. You jump out of your time machine into your bedroom and creep through the house (Don’t want your family to see multiple yous) looking for yourself. But all you find is your family, overjoyed to see you and desperate to know where the heck you’ve been for the past four and a half months, and your little brothers and sisters making sure you know that they really actually truly thought you were DEAD.

Wait, what? where’s your future self that you need to remind about that one thing? That makes no sense. It worked for Dora when you were four, right?

Answer: There is no future self. You got into your time machine and flew away, so there was no future self for you to visit. Unless I’ve got things horribly wrong, there is no way to visit your future self unless you have a really cool time machine that can somehow penetrate the barriers of reality without blowing up a star so you can visit an alternate reality version of yourself that never jumped into a time machine.

So basically, don’t trust Dora on issues of time travel. She bends the universe to fit her needs, which is an abominably stupid thing to do. The more you bend something, the bigger the recoil when you finally let it go. It’ll come back around and slap you in the face.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for the evening. I’m so glad Matthew likes Blue’s Clues better than Dora the Explorer these days.


Leave a comment

Posted by on July 19, 2014 in Uncategorized


Tags: , , , , , , ,

I have something of the utmost urgency to report:

Get ready….


Sit down….


Take a deep breath…



I have acquired a random wound on one of my fingers.

Okay, that’s not actually the thing I have to report. But I DID get a random wound yesterday whilst making bread. (I can’t even find it now. It wasn’t gushing blood and I wasn’t dizzy with pain, so I ignored it. The bread dough probably sealed it shut, or something like that.)

Okay. Here we go.





So, remember the post I wrote a while ago where I confessed to being a silly fan fiction writer? A fan fiction writer, no less, of stories set in a role play universe? It kind of escalated. I decided to design patterns for the characters. And one of them has moved beyond a sketch and a vague idea of how it will all go together. Here it is, folks. For people out there in internetland looking for an easy pattern. (I feel so gloriously spiffy about it all! First pattern, yay!!)

I give you:

the Steve McAllister scarf


Welcome, folks, to the 23rd century: a time of advanced technology, space adventures, and implausible science. A couple explanations are going to be needed for the name, before we go on to the actual pattern. So sit back and relax. 😀


Out of the mists of time, in the games, jokes and fun section of an online chicken-centered message board, four lonely, friendless, homeschooled teenagers with too much time on their hands came together, thrown in each others’ paths by a shared interest in space travel, role play games, and frankly impossible science. Thus the Space Travel Role Play game was born. The role play died a few years ago, unfortunately, but the characters lived on, fueled by the players’ attachment to them and the fan fiction, of which there is a great abundance. The creator’s character was a wisecracking smartship, and the four other main player’s characters were a short pink-haired alien, a talking cat whose color is still not yet determined, a paranoid supersoldier, and a wolf by the name of Steve McAllister.

Since there have been more than five different stories written by five different people, Steve McAllister’s history is a jumbled one, but basically, he used to work as a SPACE PIRATE, plundering rich starships and building up a grand fleet. (All while wearing a fabulous hat of course) After that, according to various opinions he either settled down with his mercenary friend David Archer “Q9” and became a semi-law-abiding person, generically gave up piracy, or was captured and forced to participate in a horrible government experiment. Either way, at some point he gave up piracy, became good friends with Q9, and was forced to participate in said government experiment, wherein his brain was put inside a wolf’s body, and the wolf’s brain was placed in his body, in an attempt to create a ruthless killer with the instincts of a wolf, and a wolf-soldier with the intelligence of a human. But part of the experiment went wrong, and the Steve-body-with-a-wolf-brain thing died, forcing Steve to remain a wolf. It’s not really clear what happened after that, but eventually, Steve and Q9 joined the crew of a smartship named Kooshie, along with a girl named Eenie and a cat named Crazy. As they say, the rest is history.


And there you are. Explanations done. Or maybe you’ve skimmed to the bottom, because it’s a common and well-established fact that people do that when faced with large blocks of text. 🙂 Anyway, the Steve McAllister scarf is a fairly simple pattern, knit with a garter stitch border around the edges, and a diamond-y/rhombus-y pattern within. A good pattern for someone just beginning to learn lace knitting.


For lighter-weight scarf:
US size 3 needles
About 396 yards of fingering/sock weight yarn
For heavier scarf:
US size 7 needles
About 396 yards of worsted weight yarn

Tapestry needle

There’s no specific type of yarn I would recommend for this. Basically use whatever type you want.

Cast on 41 stitches
Knit four rows in garter stitch.
On the next row you will start working the lace pattern, knitting a garter stitch border as you go along like so: Knit 4, follow chart as written to last four stitches, knit four.
All wrong side rows, or all even-numbered rows, will be knit as follows: Knit 4, purl to last four stitches, knit 4.


NOTE: It is very important to make sure you have fully read and understood the above. The numbering on the instructions does not apply to the whole project. It is there in that way merely as a way to help you keep track of where you are in the pattern. EVERY SINGLE WRONG-SIDE ROW should be followed by a row knitted as I instructed above: Knit 4, purl to last four stitches, knit 4.

Steve lace pattern:

Row 1: K 4, (K2tog, YO, K1) X3, K2tog, YO, K3, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K4

Row 2: K3, (K2tog, YO, K1) X3, K2tog, YO, K5, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K3

Row 3: K2, (K2tog, YO, K1) X3, K2tog, YO, K7, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K2

Row 4: K1, (K2tog, YO, K1) X3, K2tog, YO, K9, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K1

Row 5: (K2tog, YO, K1) X3, K2tog, YO, K11, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK

Row 6: K2, (K2tog, YO, K1) X2, K2tog, YO, K13, (YO, SSK, K1) X2, YO, SSK, K2

Row 7: K1, (K2tog, YO, K1) X2, K2tog, YO, K15, (YO, SSK, K1) X2, YO, SSK, K1

Row 8: (K2tog, YO, K1) X2, K2tog, YO, K17, (YO, SSK, K1) X2, YO, SSK

Row 9: K2, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K19, YO, SSK, K1 YO, SSK, K2

Row 10: K1, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K21, YO, SSK, K1 YO, SSK, K1

Row 11: K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K23, YO, SSK, K1 YO, SSK,

Row 12: K2, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K25, YO, SSK, K1 YO, SSK, K2

Row 13: K1, K2tog, YO, K27, YO, SSK, K1

Row 14: K2tog, YO, K29, YO, SSK

Row 15: K2, YO, SSK, K25, K2tog, YO, K2

Row 16: YO, SSK, K1, YO, SSK, K23, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO

Row 17: K1, YO, SSK, K1, YO, SSK, K21, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K1

Row 18: K2, YO, SSK, K1, YO, SSK, K19, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K2

Row 19: (YO, SSK, K1) X2, YO, SSK, K17, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X2

Row 20: K1, (YO, SSK, K1) X2, YO, SSK, K15, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X2, K1

Row 21: K2, (YO, SSK, K1) X2, YO, SSK, K13, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X2, K2

Row 22: (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K11, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3

Row 23: K1, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K9, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K1

Row 24: K2, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K7, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K2

Row 25: K3, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K5, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K3

Row 26: K4, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K3, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K4

Row 27: K5, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K1, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K5

Row 28: K6, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, K5, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K6

Row 29: K7, (YO, SSK, K1) X2, YO, SSK, K3, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X2, K7

Row 30: K8, (YO, SSK, K1) X2, YO, SSK, K1, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X2, K8

Row 31: K9, (YO, SSK, K1) X2, YO, SSK, K5, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X2, K9

Row 32: K10, YO, SSK, K1, YO, SSK, K3, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K10

Row 33: K11, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K1, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K11

Row 34: K12, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K5, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K12

Row 35: K13, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K3, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K13

Row 36: K14, (YO, SSK, K1) X3, YO, SSK, K1, K2tog, YO, (K1, K2tog, YO) X3, K14

Row 37: K13, K2tog, YO, K3, YO, SSK, K13

Row 38: K12, K2tog, YO, K5, YO, SSK, K12

Row 39: K11, K2tog, YO, K7, YO, SSK, K11

Row 40: K10, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K3, YO, SSK, K1, YO, SSK, K10

Row 41: K9, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K5, YO, SSK, K1, YO, SSK, K9

Row 42: K8, K2tog, YO, K1, K2tog, YO, K7, YO, SSK, K1, YO, SSK, K8

Row 43: K7, (K2tog, YO, K1) X2, K2tog, YO, K3, YO, SSK, (K1, YO, SSK) X2, K7

Row 44: K6, (K2tog, YO, K1) X2, K2tog, YO, K5, YO, SSK, (K1, YO, SSK) X2, K6

Row 45: K5, (K2tog, YO, K1) X2, K2tog, YO, K7, YO, SSK, (K1, YO, SSK) X2, K5


Work lace pattern six times in total, or until the scarf measures roughly 59 1/2 inches to 59 3/4 inches.
Knit four rows in garter stitch, and bind off loosely. Weave in the ends with the tapestry needle, and block to open up the lace. You might find that the lace is open enough though, so only do it if you actually want an extra wide/long scarf, because otherwise you could end up with a scarf that looks like it came straight out of the ’70s.

Enjoy your scarf!


Leave a comment

Posted by on July 15, 2014 in Uncategorized


Tags: , ,

A Narcissist Writes Letters, To Himself

A Hopefully Formerly Depressed Human Vows To Practice Self-Approval

Confessions of a Hopeless Introvert

I'm orally inarticulate, so I'd rather write than talk.

Arafly Arts & Life

The pursuit of crafts, fitness and beer.

The Mostly Confused Teenager

Trying to feel less muddled

Dysfunctional Literacy

Just because you CAN read Moby Dick doesn't mean you should.

Mary C. M. Phillips

Caffeine-induced epiphanies and occasional literary musings

Austenprose - A Jane Austen Blog

Join the celebration of Jane Austen novels, movies, sequels and the pop culture she has inspired

Radical Notion

feminism: noun; the radical notion that women are people.

Guys, Life, Stuff

my Words, my Life, my Thoughts

Project Light to Life

A bucket list blog: exploring happiness, growth, and the world.

Dawne Webber

A place to confabulate.

Plot Whisperer

The Making of a Story

Sammi Talk

Words From A Not So Ordinary Girl Living A Pretty Ordinary Life

Raising My Rainbow

Adventures in raising a fabulously gender creative son.