I had way too many plants in my room when I was a teen. Way too manymore than 50 of them at one point. One of my favorites was one that I was completely unable to keep alive: the rabbit foot fern. The rabbit foot fern is still one of my all-time favorite plants, though I learned to not even try to grow themthey always die on me. But I think of them a lot: Their delicate, lacy leaves that sprout at seemingly any point at all along the soft, fuzzy, rabbit foot roots. Lovely. I quite naturally thought of this gorgeous plant when I was looking for a name for this pattern. You see, the trefoil stitch that runs along next to the lacy fern leaf border is also named for a plant. Another name for the trefoil plant is "birdsfoot." See? Rabbit foot, birdsfoot, birdsfoot, rabbit foot... But in case you were wondering, though there is a plant called bird's foot fern, it isn't at all what I had in mind.
The lace portion of the scarf is knit back and forth starting with a provisional cast on of only five stitches, and growing to that portion's full width by increases worked into the lace. At the far end, decreases are worked until only five stitches remain, which are not bound off, but held to be worked later. The center portion of the scarf is worked in garter stitch, in short rows, eventually incorporating the five live stitches on each end. It's blocked into an attractive and easily wearable crescent shape that drapes well around the shoulders.
Model: The Sanguine Gryphon Bugga! in Cuban Cockroach; 412 yards in 4 oz (113 g); 70% superwash merino, 20% cashmere, 10% nylon.
Stitch instructions: Charted and written.
21.75 sts and 19.25 rows to 4 inches (10 cm) in trefoil pattern, blocked.
I have knit and crocheted, and done various forms of embroidery and needlepoint since early grammar school. Making things with bits of colored string is so integral to my being that the few times of my life when I don't have *something* on the go feel empty, and without form.