Our parents have known each other since they were teenagers, and I've known Kirsty since before I could speak. We've shared a flat together for six years now. We joke that when we do finally stop living together we'll never manage to disentangle our joint knitting needle collection. In truth, it'll be a lot more than just that.
She is a bit under a year older than me. Which means she's got to do most things first. She learnt to speak, learnt to walk and learnt to knit first. She went to university first, she left university first (something I'm still struggling to do). She was even Alice before me, as it's her middle name. And she turned 30 first too, yesterday to be precise. See her failing to blow out all the candles in one go.
On such a momentous occasion, I could bang on about what an amazing person Kirsty is, how much she has taught me, how much she means to me. But it's not really my style. Or hers. Or our relationship's. Or this blog's. Instead, I'll show you one of the birthday present I knitted for her and take some photos of her feet.
Legwarmers, covered in bees. One hundred and eighty bees to be precise. Nine sets of bees, each containing ten bees.
They are based on Pinneguri's bumblebee socks, but legwarmer-ised (larger circumference, and no toe or heel). I also striped brown and yellow yarn, rather than use self-striping, and stuck to just the three colours. I think the amazing yellow yarn really makes them, it's Jitterbug in "Vincent's Apron".
The project is ravelled here which includes full details of yarn and needles and link to pattern.
It was part of a bee-themed collection of presents (largely inspired by the legwarmers, Kirsty has no special "thing" about bees, though obviously we all know bees are cool). This included sponsorship of a beehive, honey bath things, an actual pot of honey, and a bee-covered honey and chocolate cake.
