Delaney, the Blankie, and more progress

Admittedly, those first pics of Delaney made her look like a Baby Burrito, and you really couldn’t see much. Her parents got on the videophone to show her off and I did some screen grabs and so let’s see if these show off her beauty a bit better:

Delaney thinking happy thoughts

Awwww. She’s two weeks old, wearing her new dress, and obviously the cutest two-week-old niece ever. (Obviously. You all agree with me, right? Of course you do.)

I’ve been thinking a lot about what to knit for Delaney, given that she lives in Humidity-Laden Alabama, and I think the knitted dress is just going to be too much. I think that my other niece-to-be in Illinois will be able to make more use of that cute lacy, but still woolly, dress.

So methinks Delaney is going to get this:

Star Light, Star Bright by Anna Rachap

Hm. You can’t see the detail there. Let’s try this, then:

See the stars?

What could be better? A blanket full of stars, just like in that Dixie Chicks song (“Cowboy, take me away…”).

(The blanket is a free pattern here.)

So the yarn is on order for the Star Blankie, and it will be light and lacy, just the thing for cool Alabama nights and mornings.

It is odd talking about babies and feeling all happy about them, in light of Rose’s passing. I feel somehow disrespectful or guilty or something…but in a way, it’s also fitting. Circle of life and all that. And in my heart, I believe Rose held on until Delaney was born, even though Rose was semi-conscious and nearly catatonic for most of the last bit of her life. I think somewhere down deep, Rose was waiting for her first great-grandchild to be born, to see the birth of that new generation of strong women and make sure all of us were well on our way, able to carry on without her.

Well, we can carry on without her. It’s just sad to have to do so.

I found the rose I was thinking of, the one that the yarn for the little frock reminds me of…and I was mistaken, it wasn’t a Peace Rose, it was a Confetti Rose:

Confetti Rose

Speaking of the little frock-in-progress, here’s an update, with Bertha graciously wearing it like a fancy victorian collar:

Kind of suits her, don’t you think?

(I’m not really happy with the auto-image sizing here. I’m still experimenting. The font is too small, and my research tells me that you can’t change that unless you pay up, so perhaps I really just need to Bite It and pay up so I can tweak things so folks can read this without an electron microscope.)

Oh no…I just realized I left the fleece soaking for FAR too long and the water will have cooled too much by now. Off to rescue the Gotland.