Blanket Weather Fades, But the Yarn Goes On

Suddenly—just like that the last day of my leave is drawing to a close. Bedtime nears and the quiet settles in again.

No gentle, bird-song wake-up for us this morning. Tony returned to work today, so we rose to the bleeping tune of the alarm clock. It was still dark when we shuffled into the kitchen to make breakfast. The dawn hovered low on the horizon, glowing red—the kind of sky that gives shepherds and skippers pause. That redness deepened as we cooked and ate, slowly bleeding into the clouds. By the time Tony left, daylight had arrived, but it was grey and overcast. A stark contrast to the warm, sunny days of the long weekend.

It felt like a day to stay home, but I had to scoot out for a quick grocery top-up. I’ll be working six of the next seven days, so it was now or never.

While putting everything away, I discovered a sorry-looking leek hiding in the bottom of the fridge. It seemed only fair to rescue it, so I turned it into soup for lunch. While it bubbled away on the stove, I tackled the ironing—it was only a very small pile, just three items.

And then, finally, the fun stuff.

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I kept an eye on the soup as I poked about, looking for something mindless to do. You see, last night I completed the final round of the ripple blanket. That shell edging I’d been working on is now stitched and settled. The last few yarn ends are woven in. Done. Finished.

As you can see, I’ve added a very simple border of alternating chocolate and bright yarns in single crochet—just enough to frame the ripples without stealing the spotlight. Then came the shell edging, which I always enjoy. It’s one of those wonderfully adaptable finishes: light and lacy when you want a whisper of detail, or bold and scalloped when the blanket calls for a flourish. This time, I kept it somewhere in between—enough to soften the edges and add a bit of rhythm without overwhelming the ripple beneath.

And here it is—the completed blanket.

I love the random colours in varying shades, stitched from bits and pieces, leftovers, and generous acquisitions from friends, op shops, and Facebook giveaways. Even the chocolate brown rows are made up of different tones, but somehow they all come together to create something beautiful. It feels friendly and inviting—like a well-worn story. I’ll miss it in my lap during the evenings, though with the weather warming, it’s not quite as necessary as it has been.

Some of those rows have names, of course. You might remember the mint ripple that inspired a baking session, or the orange ripple that led to the latest chocolate and coconut tweak. And now, a few more join the fold:

•  Lemon Lullaby – soft and zesty, stitched during a sleepy afternoon

•  Op Shop Orchid – a surprise skein with no label, just charm

•  Giveaway Grape – a cheerful purple from a stranger’s stash, now part of mine

•  Foggy Fuchsia – a muted pink that snuck in during a grey morning

Each ripple holds a moment, a mood, a memory. And now that it’s finished, it feels like a chapter closed—with warmth stitched into every row and ready to be gifted, or donated, whichever need comes first. 

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My hunt for something mindless took far longer than it should have—and yielded absolutely nothing. That’s not to say there weren’t options. I found plenty I’d like to do, and more than enough WIPs I could be doing, but nothing called to me. So I decided to think it over while finishing my soup and eating it slowly, hoping inspiration might arrive with the last spoonful.

Still nothing.

After cleaning up, I pulled out the Pixie boot. Just a few leaves left to knit, and they didn’t take long. Nor did the tidy-up—those stray yarn ends poking out here and there were quickly wrangled. And look, here it is: one imperfect Pixie boot. It could do with sitting on a sock block for a while, but I don’t have one of those. I might try stuffing it with toy filling to see if that helps it hold its shape.

Inspired by the finish, I cast on the next one—and made great progress. Everything flowed more easily this time. The pattern suggests dividing the stitches over three needles and working with a fourth, but one of the lovely Zoom ladies recommended using four needles and working with a fifth. So I gave it a go.

What a difference.

It made the whole process smoother, more balanced. I’m much happier with the progress this time—it’s so much neater than the first one. The stitches are behaving, and so far it feels more like a story I’m proud to tell.

Evenings after work are a mixed bag. When I’m bright and alert, I’ll keep going with the second Pixie boot—it’s coming along so much neater than the first, and I’m enjoying the rhythm now that the needles behave. But I still need something mindless for those tired evenings when I can’t quite focus, yet my hands itch for something to do.

Today’s wanderings took me to the Attic 24 blog, where I stumbled across Lucy’s cupcake blanket. I've made a version of it before.  It’s cheerful and forgiving, and I think the pattern would suit the jumble of yarns in my scrap basket beautifully. I’m tempted to cast one on—though, as I mentioned before, it really is getting beyond blanket weather. Still, there’s something comforting about starting a new blanket just as the old one is folded away. 

We’ll see. For now, I’ll keep the idea tucked in my mind and the scrap basket here beside my armchair, ready to be picked up when the evening calls for softness and simplicity.

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Tomorrow my rhythm shifts again—back to work and busy corridors. But tonight, I’ll savour the quiet, the stitches. If you’ve got a go-to project for tired evenings, or a favourite way to ease back into routine, I’d love to hear about it. Let’s swap stories, one ripple at a time.