Film at eleven.

The lopapeysa chugged one station closer to Finishville yesterday, after I cut the steek down the front. Snippity-snip. Instant cardigan. Th...

Did you ever have one of those days when you woke up and knew with fearful certainty that absolutely nothing else would be accomplished unti...

Possibly because she's had enough of waiting for her Pink Cape,* and has decided to just do it herself, Abigail (who is pushing five, ca...

The lopapeysa isn't the only thing I've been knitting, but it's the one thing I can show you. Having now shown it, I will confes...

Happy Halloween, kids. I've lost the battle, yet again, about how our merry little band is celebrating. My plan was to dress in my favor...

For knitters, one of the staggering things about the streets of Reykjavik is that they are so full of people wearing handknits that you almo...

In order to compensate, in part, for no longer being surrounded by this, or this, (click to embiggen; it's worth it) I have begun workin...

Ladies and gentlemen, the yarn section of the grocery store–this one's attached to a mall in Reykjavik. The yarn is just past the dairy ...

This was taken at Álafoss, a few hundred yards from the modern Istex mill where Lopi Yarn is produced. In the early days of the industry, in...

Yesterday, in an antiques shop near the harbor in Reykjavik, I found these* under a stack of old sheet music. Last night, inside the blue on...

Iceland is just so cold and barren and forbidding and stark. Help, help. New On the Calendar As much as it pains me to contemplate a time in...

Am rushing off to the Blue Lagoon (my life, it is bleak) so only time for three quick answers this morning. 1. Prancing pony Lopapeysa in t...

Before this trip, the only thing I knew about the Icelandic language was that it was sprinkled with letters I didn't recognize, most not...

A flock of lopapeysa (traditional Icelandic yoked sweaters) caught on the fly during a community inspection of rams. Check out the size and ...

A corner of the graffiti park. Did you spot the sheep?

A sheep farm in the West Country. Sheep here don't say "baaaaa" they say "mehhhhhhhh." But aside from the language b...

Twice in one day. It's either feast or famine around here, isn't it? Not, come to think of it, that two brief posts constitute a fea...

I remember a time when I didn't write most of my posts while sitting in airports. But here's another one. I'm in Chicago, waitin...