The conversation goes something like this:
Etherknitter: Hey, love! Can you help me get a picture of you in your new hat so I can blog it?
Mr. E: Sure!
Two days later, the conversation continues.
Etherknitter: Remember the hat picture? How about today?
Mr. E: Sure. No problem!
We go away for the weekend. The scenery is lovely. More dialogue.
Etherknitter: Wouldn't this be a great backdrop for the hat pictures?
Mr. E: Sure! Sounds good to me.
So here we go--
Pattern: Marsan Watch Cap
Yarn: Foxhill Farm Romney chunky
Needles: #8 Clover DPNs
He asked for a hat. He wanted a foldable brim. He wanted to cover his ears. The crown to this pattern adds interest. If I didn’t have enough yarn, he agreed to a random band before decreases.
So. *knit knit* “Is the brim long enough? No? Okay.” *knitknit* “Now? No? More?” Until this dick-whipt knitter finally knit the brim long enough to cover the ears without him having to look in a mirror to do so.
I actually had enough yarn. Other modifications are noted in the Rav entry. I ended up with similar numbers of rows, but apportioned differently. When the hat is worn, the peak at the top is minimized. My 10 pound Dansk*n exercise ball doesn't have the same volume as the masculine head.
The usual winter activities proceeded with ~50% of the usual snowpack. Whining that I want my winter back has done nothing to bring my winter back. There was enough snow to murder my quadriceps, and make my skis release when they should not have done so. (Three times. Once in modest powder. Once in the glades. And once at the edge of a trail in soft, deep snow while I was trying to ungracefully exit black diamond bumps with some dignity intact. That loss of ski helped me fall three feet down into a tree island. The remainder of my dignity fled. No other injuries occurred except for triceps strain from heaving my skis and poles back onto the slope. I was then free to crawl through hip deep snow back into the ski world.)
One or two nights dining in Aspen. Zocalito with the usual suspects (hi Melissa!), then Creperie du Village on the final evening. On the way to the bus back to the hotel, Mr. E noted an object on the ground. It was so Aspen, I had to take a picture.
