Milo for pudding

The other day, I counted all my knitting UFOs. Well, I started to, and then I was so mortified I stopped, shoved them all in back in their various bags and boxes and went off to partake of that age-old art of procrastination, the Cup of Tea.
Me and casting on new projects: great buddies. Me and finishing things off, sewing in ends, or doing-the-boring-bits: not so much. So, when I came across this groovy little pattern on Ravelry, I had to (of course) abandon whatever was on my needles and cast on.
The pattern is "Milo", available from Ravelry as a downloadable .pdf (how good is that for an instant-gratification-monster like myself? Not even any waiting for the post...just exercise the credit card and wham! new stuff. Cool indeed.) If you haven't already, check out the pattern designer's blog at tikkifabricaddict.blogspot.com for more knitty goodness. (the link is in my sidebar, too.)
The pattern is clear, comprehensive, and beautifully presented, and I really enjoyed knitting this vest - it's the perfect combination of meditative stocking stitch, with the added piquancy of a funky little cable, and the bonus at the end of not having to sew anything other than a few ends.
I knit the 2 y.o. size, and it fits - just - my exceptionally rotund 2-and-a-bit year old. Entirely my own fault, though - the pattern instructions are very clear about using chest measurements rather than age to determine the right size... I'm just a lazy knitter. Ahem. Gauge? Measurements? yeah...nah. I'm more of a "cast on and hope for the best and if it doesn't fit then ah well...it's a good thing knitting's stretchy, aye?" kinda knitter. That, and my two year old is a wee bit of a pudding. Hence the post title ;-) (I mean that in the nicest possible way. As far as puddings go, he's pretty darn cute ;-) )

The yarn is Twilley's Freedom Spirit, bought a year or so ago in an earthquake sale (there are still a few bits of wall and dust in the bag with the wool), and I used two and a bit balls.

Sewing-wise, I'm itching to finish the jacket that I started with Maryanna at the PP tailoring course we both attended. Progress has been slightly thwarted on that, however, by the aforementioned, delightful child traipsing through the house, across the carpet, and across part of my cut out and stitched jacket lining, pouring enthusiastically from a can of olive oil from the kitchen. Right. Through. The. House. Yeah. Not impressed. Luckily, the most excellent people at Smart Dress Fabrics in Mt Albert still had more lining on the bolt, so a complete disaster on the fabric front was averted. The carpet, I fear, is a different story.