The leaves are still clinging to the trees, but fall has arrived. I swear I heard a quiet “whump” when it hit. One week temperatures were in the 80’s and super humid, the next it was in the 40’s overnight and barely making 60 during the day. This, to me, is perfectly glorious.

It also means that I get to absolutely had to pull out my sweaters again. I wore both of the handspun sweaters last weekend, and can pronounce them both perfect, and wonderfully warm. I am tempted to commence living in them 24-7, but somehow I think the muggles wouldn’t understand.

Branden also got to try on his sweater, but I’m afraid the bachelor 15 (a close relative of the dreaded freshman 15) rendered it a bit snugger than expected, and so we’re holding off on modeling shots for now. It was worn, it was liked, and I’ve decided I’m ok with stripes. (I might even like them, but don’t tell anyone.)

The new sweater is flying off the needles at a shocking pace, considering how little I feel I’ve knit on it. I suppose that’s the advantage of endless knitting; once you’ve finished, pieces that progress at a normal pace seem to move about 10 times faster. It’s now a good six inches past the point where I took this photo on Tuesday:

It did need a little surgery due to some excessively abrupt color changes (didn’t pair the right skeins together to even things out, apparently).

I’ve reknit the back panel, and just need to graft the neck side pieces back on, and then you’ll never be able to tell. Do you think this grafting thing is becoming an unhealthy obsession?

I also had some unexpected finishing in the bus knitting department. I’m not sure I’ve even blogged about this scarf yet; it’s been condemned to live its life in my work bag, and hasn’t really seen the light of day outside of my daily commute. I use the term “finished” loosely here; I cast off on Tuesday, and haven’t been home since to weave in the ends or block it. I love it now, but I think it’s going to be even better when it’s had a bath to open up those holes in the lace.

It’s made from the handspun Finn that I bought at the Door County Shepherd’s Market in June. It’s somewhat fitting that I’ve just finished it now, as the Wisconsin Sheep and Wool Festival is tomorrow, and I’m playing hooky from work to go pet some fiber with a friend. I have already begun the chant that says I cannot buy more fleece until I have processed what I have. Somehow I’m not sure it’s a strong enough incantation, but I’m afraid it’s all I have.