I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good

We spent the weekend at the beach, as is our custom at this time of year.  Right before school starts, all our best friends, their children and their dogs converge at Devil's Lake.  The lake is just inland from the mighty Pacific Ocean, where big fun was had by all:

 Smallies in their native habitat: Wet and Sandy.

Smallies in their native habitat: Wet and Sandy.

 Phillip got a Karate lesson.  He should be out of traction by spring.

Phillip got a Karate lesson.  He should be out of traction by spring.

 Paisley made a new friend.

Paisley made a new friend.

 And I knitted this

And I knitted this

This is the way the Frog Prince begins.  I made three panels (two side fronts and a back) with steeks in between them, knitted in a tube.  Here you can see the two fronts, with their steek between.  Tonight I will cut them apart and block them, and then the real mischief begins.  The cunning plan is to join them at the shoulders, then pick up and knit the sides of the body and the sleeves sideways.  It's gonna be wicked cool.  I know because I'm still at the point in the project where nothing has been jacked up yet (that I have noticed), and the plan is self-concocting flawlessly in my head.  This is in many ways the best part of designing - I only have to think stuff up and make it be knitted.  It's communicating coherently to others how they can do it too that gives me trouble. 

Which brings me to a question I have for you, dear blog:  Would you rather not hear/see any of the Frog Prince process until it's all finished and available for you to make your own?  Or would it be useful/amusing to see the process step by step as I create the pattern? Kindly weigh in, dear readers, via comments.

I really wailed on the knitting this weekend, and I even managed to relax with my friends and family.  I brought along the copy of my book and tortured my poor indulgent friends into looking at it.  These are the very same suspects who were forced to watch me knit at every social event for a year so that the book could be written in the first place.  It was nice to be able to hold and point to the physical manifestation of all that.  None of these people are knitters, so a willingness to flip through the pages is more than I had a right to expect.  Lucky for me they are loving and supportive, so it doesn't matter to them whether I write about knitting, or Kung Fu, or cellular mitosis.

 And I may also have made a sock, but I plan to deny it.

And I may also have made a sock, but I plan to deny it.