No, this isn't about the quilt that's going to take me the rest of my life.

I figured out how to make a honeycomb patterned scarf with fall colours.  Oh my heart.

Oddly enough, a lot of the clothing I either purchase or make for myself are inspired by my numerous day dreams.  There's something about making my life into something that I find ideal that makes even the smallest things or the seemingly most insignificant days feel a little extra magical and purposeful.  Much like crafting, it helps me feel like I'm making my dreams real.

I designed the idea on www.stitchfiddle.com.  To make this pattern work with all of my various different colours.  I originally attempted to keep all of the colours separate, but found that with so many changes in yarn that it simply wouldn't hold together very well.  I attempted a couple of times, but quickly realised that I was merely bashing against a brick wall repeatedly, anticipating an entrance.

To keep everything together and solid, I took the dark grey yarn as the base, then introduced each colour where they were needed.  Lucky for me, the colours managed to stay bright and happy even though the grey was present.  

After that was figured out, all I really needed to do was keep knitting until it was long enough- and considering my ridiculous standards for scarves, that was going to take a while.

I just didn't fully appreciate just how long it would take.  

This scarf took me a year to make.  Granted, I got distracted by MANY other things, as you may have noticed, but nontheless.

This scarf saw me through many adventures.

Everything from some dear memories with my childhood cat to adventures with my mum and brothers.

I kept promising myself that I would only need 12 more inches, and yet there was always more.  When I got to the end, it didn't seem possible that it could be finished.

And it wasn't!  The best part of doing colour work is running in all of those itty bitty ends! 

At a certain point I felt like I must have died and this was my everlasting punishment for something I did but couldn't remember doing.  I always felt tantalizingly close but still had a million more ends to run in until they all stopped reappearing by the hundreds, and one by one all of the ends disappeared into the fabric.

I couldn't be more happy.  I loved this scarf so much that I had dreams about it long before it was finished.  This has been a year and a half in the making and I can't believe it's real.

Stay sweet, stay crafty, and stay tuned.

I'm going to jump right in.

First off, this green and brown fiber started out being something that I planned to spin up and let hide in the bottom of a tote of crafty business since something about this mint chocolate chip ice cream concoction was hideous to me.  This picture even makes it look like it's a little nicer than it was, but oh how it made me cringe.  

It had spent YEARS in my fiber collection, gathering dust and loneliness because I couldn't stomach the thought of spending time and effort on spinning it up, even if that meant it would become a lesser grossness.  

Why did I make this part of what I packed all the way up to Oregon with me?  I think some strange part of my brain that I have yet to understand knew that there was something greater lurking beneath the surface of this thing.  

The part of my brain that thought it was worth bringing home was right.  It turned into one of the most beautiful greens I've ever seen in my life, and I proceeded to dash a bit of pepper on my words as I ate them, promptly followed up with a slice of bittersweet humble pie for dessert.

This next fiber, however, had my heart from the beginning.  It's my favourite colour of grey and the caliber of softness made it so that it was all that I could do to keep myself from curling up and sleeping on it (not that it's actually big enough for that, but I can dream).

The fact that this one spun up beautifully didn't surprise me in the slightest.  

That's when my brain started scheming.  This all started out as me spinning up various bundles of fiber that had been sitting and gathering dust, but when I laid the finished skeins next to some other white yarn I had made, I realised they were destined to become one glorious scarf, where they could live happily together.

So I greedily took some of the fiber I had initially been planning on dyeing, spun it up, and stacked it with the other two so they could become well acquainted while I decided what to do with them.

I decided on a nice and simple seed stitch.  I had never done seed stitch before, oddly enough, and thought this would be an excellent time to start.  The hand-spun yarn became quite bubbly looking with the pattern, and still managed to feel soft and cozy.  

This was one of many travel projects I had while visiting my family for the holidays.  

It grew longer and longer as I chipped away at it while watching movies, waiting in line while running errands, and whenever I got a spare second, like I do.

At this point though, I had used up the last of my white yarn for the stripes, and was hopelessly stranded without those poor little balls of yarn that lay in wait at home.  I had no way to continue without the white so I folded up all the progress I had made, stuck it in the bottom of my backpack, and promised this poor project that one day it would be reunited with the other balls of yarn and I would finish what I started.

Lucky for us (mostly me), I eventually made it all the way back home, and finished what I started.  The scarf measures a perfect 100 inches (or 8 ft and 4 inches), which is exactly right for being able to wrap the scarf around twice while still having enough length to let it drape down.  

All of the white stripes decided to hide in this next picture, but I wanted to show off the scarf in a place where it was well loved and appreciated, as I just so happened to finish it right in time for a bit of snow to grace the land around me.  

Photo credit to my talented partner.

Stay sweet, stay crafty, and stay tuned.