I’ve been looking forward to the launch of Twist Collective’s Spring issue for quite some time, and here’s the reason:

The Passiflora tunic is my debut design for this wonderful magazine. I couldn’t be happier with the photography, the styling, or with the way the editors highlighted the various lace elements of the design. In creating Passiflora, I designed a reversible garment because I appreciate that kind of versatility in my own wardrobe. It can be worn as shown in the Twist photo with the modest single lace panel in front, or with the more revealing, repeating lace panel facing the world, depending on how much skin the wearer is comfortable showing off. I’d probably wear it with a camisole in either case, but I’m also thinking it would look adorable with a fitted teeshirt underneath.

Here’s the back-to-front option:

My other goal with this design was to create a simple garment with drape and ease in all the right places; the kind of tunic you wear out to dinner not just because it looks pretty (although that’s an awfully good reason right there!), but because you also know you can make a total pig of yourself   lick your plate clean  eat a proper meal and not worry about whether your Spanx investment is up to the job. Sometimes we just can’t stop ourselves from overindulging, and Passiflora makes those occasions a lot more comfortable.

I’ll pick up my knitting needles again this weekend for the first time in a month. PT is helping with the flexibility in my hand, and I prefer to believe that knitting will only supplement the progress I’ve made despite all indications to the contrary. First up, finish the last sleeve of my February Lady Sweater, which did not get completed in February after all.

Although Spring is fully underway here, I should get lots of end-of-season wear out of it in the evening when the temperatures still dip down into the 40’s. I may need some votes on the button choices, however, and will post photos of the options.

Next up is a secret project that I’m excited to start on, as well as a couple of other projects that have been languishing in my WIP pile for far too long considering how close they are to completion. Another cardigan is one of those WIPS, and it’s still in the WIP pile because I got discouraged at how small it seems in its unblocked form even though I made a few sizing modifications. It’s the Mr. Greenjeans pattern from Knitty’s Fall 2007 issue. Now that I’ve taken another look at it, I am hopeful that my yarn choice (Elann’s Peruvian Sierra Aran in a luscious bottle green) will block out nicely. Again, just one sleeve to go!

I’m not sure what’s up with the military references the last post or two, but I’ve been pre-occupied with hands lately because of my recent surgery.

I got the stitches taken out of my right hand today, so I couldn’t be happier. In two weeks, with any luck I’ll be knitting again – once the physical therapy has had time to kick in. Even now, my hand feels better than I expected. I can bend and flex the two fingers that were operated on and although it hurts to make a fist, I’ll be working on that exercise to re-build my flexibility. What a relief!

More recent appearances in the garden:

I’m always amazed at how tenacious the California poppies are. The seeds scatter in the fall, and rebloom reliably each spring – but ONLY in the sections of the garden where they get full sun. They are concentrated in the front, and have (so far) never gotten a toehold in the back garden. The hostas return every spring. This is when they look their best, actually – before the snails and slugs get to them.

An all-volunteer army of flowers blooming, that is. Now that the rain has stopped and the sun has come out, the garden has exploded. Much of what I’m finding was planted years ago… gotta love those perennials.

Each year the mounds of low-growing blooms spread more widely across the ground.

The daffodils and narcissi bulbs divide themselves underground so that every year the clusters are more heavily populated.

These black callas are always among my favorites, despite the fact that they smell like elephant dung and bear an uncanny resemblance to a certain human anatomical feature…

Not that I’m complaining. For melodrama in the garden, they really can’t be beat. Plus, that chartreuse and deep merlot color combination is a visual thrill.