[WARNING: BMFA "ROCKIN' SOCK CLUB" SPOILER]
Dateline: Bay Area, CA, approximately 5:05 pm Thursday, where a local woman has just recovered from opening a package labeled "Rockin' Sock Club." Mrs. Dickinson, along with thousands of people worldwide, have received similar packages over the last few days. Reports of hysterical whooping, fainting, and even running naked down the street waving hanks of hand-dyed sock yarn have flooded newspapers and police stations in villages and large cities alike.
Mrs. Dickinson stated that she had expected the package at her office, and reportedly stalked the mail room guy until he threatened to get a restraining order against her. Efforts in this regard proved futile however, as in order to comply with the order, Mrs. Dickinson would not be able to come to work at all.
Accordingly, she was stunned to arrive home, and find the much-desired package in her mailbox. She yanked it out, scattering junkmail, and ran upstairs to her apartment, keys at the ready. She even turned off the Cast-on podcast mid-essay in order to be completely ready to open the package and bask in its contents the second she entered the apartment. Mrs. Dickinson stated that she "never turns off Cast-on" unless and until she "absolutely [has] to."
When Mrs. Dickinson opened her package, she was left with only two words: "Holy crap," which she uttered so reverently that a flourish of trumpets could be heard in the background. The beautiful Merino/silk yarn then emitted a golden glow. The next thing Mrs. Dickinson recalled was being awakened from a deep swoon by her dog Pepper, a 60 pound Blue Heeler, who was more than ready for her w-a-l-k.
--------------
My pinky has healed. I will commence knitting the April socks tonight. Stay tuned!
Friday, April 27, 2007
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
The Wrath of Pinky
I dissed the Pinky in an email to my brother. Who, as it turned out, is a Pinky. He replied saying, "hello, Middle Finger. I see the assassins have failed." But I was not without injury. The assassins succeeded in breaking a wine glass in my hand as I was washing it. As a result, I sustained a frighteningly deep cut to (oh, the irony) my left pinky finger.
It gets worse. I knit in a more or less continental style. Though the index finger and thumb of my left hand play the starring roles, my left pinky is a supporting actress in that it curls inward around the working yarn, providing the gentlest bit of tension. Though the cut has mostly healed, my pinky is sore and doesn't like to curl as much as I need it to curl. I cannot knit until it is in complete working order.
Sunday night, while DH watched the Warriors game, I twitched like a little kid hopped up on Mountain Dew and Halloween candy and then dragged by her parents through The Large Museum of Deeply Boring Things That You Can't Touch. Ordinarily, I would have been knitting.
I have resorted to scrapbooking. Which, by the way, I dislike. It isn't a craft. It is essentially a chore, much like weeding or tidying the drawer I call "the tool drawer," and DH refers to as "that damned drawer full of junk." I am buoyed by two facts: (1) that this particular endeavor is the organization of our honeymoon photos, and revisiting them truly is enjoyable; and (2) unlike our wedding albums, I have dispensed with the hardcore scrapbooking methods. The vast majority of the pages are devoted exclusively to the photos, and I am making separate pages for the relatively few scrappy bits I saved from the trip. I am nearly done.
However, in support of my longed-for return to knitting and consequent avoidance of the hardcore, cult-of-scrapbooking wedding albums, I propose the following list of reasons...
WHY KNITTING IS BETTER THAN SCRAPBOOKING:
1. Knitting requires very little set-up or take-down. Pull it out of your bag or basket, and you are ready to go.
2. Knitting does not require a vast array of tools and materials. You need yarn, needles and a relatively small selection of helpers like crochet hooks, stitch markers and cable needles, all of which can be comfortably contained in a box or basket.
3. Knitting is portable. You can do it almost anywhere, which also means that almost any idle moment can be filled with crafting.
4. Knitting requires very little space in which to work. You can do it in one small corner of your sofa, or a cozy chair. Scrapbooking takes about half of a dining room table at minimum, with papers, templates, photos and scissors scattered about.
5. You can't wear a scrapbook.
6. Knitting does not make your fingers sticky with glue, or involve papercuts. Though we joke about knitting-related injuries, I do not personally know of any actual person who has been injured by her tools or materials.
7. Knitting does not resemble tidying, organizing, sorting or cleaning in any way, shape or form.
8. Knitting consists of a small, compact series of rhythmic movements, often creating a feeling of relaxation and calm. You can watch TV or let your thoughts wander, if you're working on a simple project. Scrapbooking is all reaching, cutting, gluing, placing and sorting. There's little rhythm to it, and if you want it to look halfway passable, your complete attention is required.
9. You can wing knitting and undo bad execution without ruining your materials. Wing a scrapbook, and your mistake often renders your materials unusable.
10. Scrapbooks tend to look best with a lot of planning ahead, i.e., choosing coordinating papers, building around themes, and designing specific pages. This is optional in knitting. If you don't like this much planning, most of it can be done for you by an expert in the form of patterns, the selection of which is vast and readily available.
If I missed anything, please add more reasons in the comments!
It gets worse. I knit in a more or less continental style. Though the index finger and thumb of my left hand play the starring roles, my left pinky is a supporting actress in that it curls inward around the working yarn, providing the gentlest bit of tension. Though the cut has mostly healed, my pinky is sore and doesn't like to curl as much as I need it to curl. I cannot knit until it is in complete working order.
Sunday night, while DH watched the Warriors game, I twitched like a little kid hopped up on Mountain Dew and Halloween candy and then dragged by her parents through The Large Museum of Deeply Boring Things That You Can't Touch. Ordinarily, I would have been knitting.
I have resorted to scrapbooking. Which, by the way, I dislike. It isn't a craft. It is essentially a chore, much like weeding or tidying the drawer I call "the tool drawer," and DH refers to as "that damned drawer full of junk." I am buoyed by two facts: (1) that this particular endeavor is the organization of our honeymoon photos, and revisiting them truly is enjoyable; and (2) unlike our wedding albums, I have dispensed with the hardcore scrapbooking methods. The vast majority of the pages are devoted exclusively to the photos, and I am making separate pages for the relatively few scrappy bits I saved from the trip. I am nearly done.
However, in support of my longed-for return to knitting and consequent avoidance of the hardcore, cult-of-scrapbooking wedding albums, I propose the following list of reasons...
WHY KNITTING IS BETTER THAN SCRAPBOOKING:
1. Knitting requires very little set-up or take-down. Pull it out of your bag or basket, and you are ready to go.
2. Knitting does not require a vast array of tools and materials. You need yarn, needles and a relatively small selection of helpers like crochet hooks, stitch markers and cable needles, all of which can be comfortably contained in a box or basket.
3. Knitting is portable. You can do it almost anywhere, which also means that almost any idle moment can be filled with crafting.
4. Knitting requires very little space in which to work. You can do it in one small corner of your sofa, or a cozy chair. Scrapbooking takes about half of a dining room table at minimum, with papers, templates, photos and scissors scattered about.
5. You can't wear a scrapbook.
6. Knitting does not make your fingers sticky with glue, or involve papercuts. Though we joke about knitting-related injuries, I do not personally know of any actual person who has been injured by her tools or materials.
7. Knitting does not resemble tidying, organizing, sorting or cleaning in any way, shape or form.
8. Knitting consists of a small, compact series of rhythmic movements, often creating a feeling of relaxation and calm. You can watch TV or let your thoughts wander, if you're working on a simple project. Scrapbooking is all reaching, cutting, gluing, placing and sorting. There's little rhythm to it, and if you want it to look halfway passable, your complete attention is required.
9. You can wing knitting and undo bad execution without ruining your materials. Wing a scrapbook, and your mistake often renders your materials unusable.
10. Scrapbooks tend to look best with a lot of planning ahead, i.e., choosing coordinating papers, building around themes, and designing specific pages. This is optional in knitting. If you don't like this much planning, most of it can be done for you by an expert in the form of patterns, the selection of which is vast and readily available.
If I missed anything, please add more reasons in the comments!
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Well, duh.
| You Are the Middle Finger |
 A bit fragile and dependent on your friends, you're not nearly as hostile as you seem. You are balanced, easy to get along with, and quite serious. However, you can get angry and fed up with those around you. And you aren't afraid to show it! You get along well with: The Index Finger Stay away from: The Pinky |
Two comments:
1. For some reason, I am overcome with hilarity that The Pinky is my nemesis.
2. I have a working hypothesis that 80% of people who take this quiz suspect that they are The Middle Finger, and look forward to confirming same. 10% are disappointed that they are, in fact, another finger.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Ask the Impatient Knitter
Q: I am knitting a lace shawl. When is a good time to put in a lifeline?
A: I shoot for about the halfway point, but typically end up putting in the lifeline before that, inspired by having to painfully tink back a bunch of rows, obsessively counting stitches at the end of each, to the last row I did correctly, whereupon I emit a sigh of relief and stuff the project back in its bag. If all my knitting instincts are in good working order, I put the lifeline in the next time I pick up the shawl. If I have failed to learn my lesson, the next time I pick up the shawl, I brazenly knit on, sans lifeline, until I need to be reminded again.
We shall see what happens tonight, when I hope to pick up my Children of Lir Stole again. DH is meeting a friend for drinks, and to watch the Warriors-Trailblazers game. It will be an ideal time to get in some mileage on this project. The last time I picked it up was during the final round of the Masters tournament, which was not a very good choice on my part, as I actually wanted to watch the tournament. One good birdie putt is a recipe for dropping stitches, forgetting your place in the stitch pattern, or missing yarnovers. Take my word for it.
In the meantime, I have been knitting mostly on the Ivy sweater. The Karabella Breeze is working out beautifully. It's crispness shows the stitches to great advantage, especially the cabled section at the bottom. I am about 3/4 of the way up the back. Here's what I love about this sweater. The first few cable repeats were like getting to base camp: "are we there yet?" Then, I got into the rhythm of it and became positively addicted to the cables and couldn't wait to start the next repeat. By the time I got done with them, I was ready for a little rest, and the stockinette started right there. I expect that if this gets old, it will be just in time for the armhole shaping, after which it is a quick trip to the neckline and bind-off. Yay!
A: I shoot for about the halfway point, but typically end up putting in the lifeline before that, inspired by having to painfully tink back a bunch of rows, obsessively counting stitches at the end of each, to the last row I did correctly, whereupon I emit a sigh of relief and stuff the project back in its bag. If all my knitting instincts are in good working order, I put the lifeline in the next time I pick up the shawl. If I have failed to learn my lesson, the next time I pick up the shawl, I brazenly knit on, sans lifeline, until I need to be reminded again.
We shall see what happens tonight, when I hope to pick up my Children of Lir Stole again. DH is meeting a friend for drinks, and to watch the Warriors-Trailblazers game. It will be an ideal time to get in some mileage on this project. The last time I picked it up was during the final round of the Masters tournament, which was not a very good choice on my part, as I actually wanted to watch the tournament. One good birdie putt is a recipe for dropping stitches, forgetting your place in the stitch pattern, or missing yarnovers. Take my word for it.
In the meantime, I have been knitting mostly on the Ivy sweater. The Karabella Breeze is working out beautifully. It's crispness shows the stitches to great advantage, especially the cabled section at the bottom. I am about 3/4 of the way up the back. Here's what I love about this sweater. The first few cable repeats were like getting to base camp: "are we there yet?" Then, I got into the rhythm of it and became positively addicted to the cables and couldn't wait to start the next repeat. By the time I got done with them, I was ready for a little rest, and the stockinette started right there. I expect that if this gets old, it will be just in time for the armhole shaping, after which it is a quick trip to the neckline and bind-off. Yay!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Until today, the last time I won anything, it was a gigantic bag of fertilizer at the county fair when I was 5 years old. My parents were thrilled, as they'd been wanting to re-do the lawn, but I was S-O-L.
I chose the handspun. Very much worth the 28 year wait.
I chose the handspun. Very much worth the 28 year wait.
Monday, April 02, 2007
The minds, they are a'changin'
(With apologies to Bob Dylan: Sorry, dude. I can't resist puns. Or whatever it is that's in the title).
Sarah would like to know whether I've changed my mind about anything.
It is a worthy question. I am a pretty rigid person, usually. My mind, once made up, will generally stay that way, if not forever, close enough to it that you'd have to wait around a really long time. The times I have changed my mind are so rare and golden that I should start a hall of fame for them.
1. Ch-ch-ch-changes
One that leaps most readily to mind was my prejudice against science fiction books. I liked some TV shows (okay, just Star Trek, the Next Generation) and movies, but for some reason, the concept of the science fiction book conjured up all sorts of childishly mean-spirited images around the theme "dorks reading bad fiction." My husband once pointed out that, sure, there's a lot of crap out there, but some good stuff too, and anyway, Jane Austen was no great shakes, either.
After I recovered from this (!), he handed me a copy of Sirens of Titan, by Kurt Vonnegut. With its finely drawn characters, acerbic wit, and a dog who travels the space-time continuum with his master, I was happily engaged in this book from page one. What sets this book apart, however, are the grand themes that surface as the plot unfolds. The denizens of Amazon.com have given it a much more knowledgeable and thorough review than I ever could, so I shall direct you there for more information.
But Sirens probably isn't true sci-fi. Certainly not as I defined it in my knee-jerk aversion to sci-fi. So, I stuck my toes in a little deeper with the Ender series, by Orson Scott Card. There are a bunch of these, starting with Ender's Game, which in the grand tradition of series, is probably the best one. It certainly got me hooked enough to read up through the fourth book. After that, I was a little Ender-ed out, but I could see myself re-reading some of these, or continuing at some point.
Very basically, Ender is a young boy, and an outcast in society, for a big reason that is clear from the get-go. He gets recruited into an elite military school at younger than the standard age, where the kids train to be the best warriors possible in order to kick the butts of the aliens who kicked our butts a decade or so previously. From this fairly simple premise, Orson Scott Card got 3 really good books, and 1 mostly good book (and the rest I can't speak to) without having to thoroughly exhaust his bag of writerly tricks.
Though less in the way of grand themes, there is definitely a lot to hang your hat on intellectually, e.g., dystopia, family dynamics, ethics of war, cultural differences (esp. in Book 4)... and so long as the action is interesting, the characters are engaging, and the writing is good, I am up for pretty much anything.
2. Turn and face ...
More significantly, answering Sarah's inquiry got me thinking about why I had this prejudice. There is no logic to it at all, which makes it a true Capital-P Prejudice. I never had any highfalutin standards for my reading material, and though I do read what you might call literature every once in a while, I never thought of myself as being literary. I have read romance novels. I have no business talkin' smack about people who read sci-fi, y'know?
I will readily confess my other ____-snobs, i.e., wine snob, music snob, yarn snob..... But a book snob, I am not. If DH asks you where his Star Trek novels went, don't tell him they're in my book basket next to the bed.
3. The strange...
As for yarn, I am changing my mind about cotton. My second sweater was a white cotton tunic from a Spring/Summer issue of VK, maybe 5 or 6 years ago. I believe the pattern called for Classic Elite Weekend Cotton. Back then, I was a new knitter, and pretty much everything I made was either a Lion Brand Pattern or kit, and I used the requisite Lion Brand yarn. When a pattern didn't call for Lion Brand yarn, I substituted. This wasn't a conscious thing. It was an access thing. I didn't make much money, there weren't lots of yarn shops where I was living, so I knitted with what I had.
For this cotton sweater, I chose a Lion Brand cotton (and I can't remember the name - it might have just been called Lion Cotton), and knitted away at K1P1 ribbing (ouch!) for ages until the sweater was done. It looked good, actually. Not as light and summery fabulous as in the magazine, but respectable, especially for one's second sweater.
It was also massively heavy and had all the drape of a hunk of siding. It wasn't very soft to knit with or to wear, so into the closet it went, until I ended up packing it into a bag of clothes I donated after losing my "living at home during law school" weight. I never touched cotton again. I bypassed it disdainfully in yarn shops, and found the Spring/Summer issues of knitting mags to be utterly devoid of anything knittable. I might have liked the pattern, but I wasn't touching cotton with a 10-foot needle. Nope. Not me.
That might have all changed. A few weeks ago, while browsing in Urban Knitting Studio for a light pretty something to make into a springy shrug (I was thinking silk, or maybe microfiber), I fell in mad crazy love with Blue Sky Cotton, from the wonderful folks who make Blue Sky Alpacas yarn. It was the shade that called out to me: a very light petal pink, so delicate it is only found on babies' toes. I had to have it. I didn't care what it was made of. Okay, I did kind of care, but when I picked it up and felt how soft it was, I was sold.
I started knitting with it this weekend, for another iteration of Stefanie Japel's Minisweater (made my first one a couple of weeks ago, and now I am addicted). Ladies and Germs, it is like knitting with cotton balls. I love it. I love that stitches don't squish up together like wool does, and leaves the fabric uneven. It really is just a touch uneven, and in such a charming way that I am not sure I want to block it.
I probably won't change my stance on eyelash yarn any time soon, but stay tuned for further developments.
Sarah would like to know whether I've changed my mind about anything.
It is a worthy question. I am a pretty rigid person, usually. My mind, once made up, will generally stay that way, if not forever, close enough to it that you'd have to wait around a really long time. The times I have changed my mind are so rare and golden that I should start a hall of fame for them.
1. Ch-ch-ch-changes
One that leaps most readily to mind was my prejudice against science fiction books. I liked some TV shows (okay, just Star Trek, the Next Generation) and movies, but for some reason, the concept of the science fiction book conjured up all sorts of childishly mean-spirited images around the theme "dorks reading bad fiction." My husband once pointed out that, sure, there's a lot of crap out there, but some good stuff too, and anyway, Jane Austen was no great shakes, either.
After I recovered from this (!), he handed me a copy of Sirens of Titan, by Kurt Vonnegut. With its finely drawn characters, acerbic wit, and a dog who travels the space-time continuum with his master, I was happily engaged in this book from page one. What sets this book apart, however, are the grand themes that surface as the plot unfolds. The denizens of Amazon.com have given it a much more knowledgeable and thorough review than I ever could, so I shall direct you there for more information.
But Sirens probably isn't true sci-fi. Certainly not as I defined it in my knee-jerk aversion to sci-fi. So, I stuck my toes in a little deeper with the Ender series, by Orson Scott Card. There are a bunch of these, starting with Ender's Game, which in the grand tradition of series, is probably the best one. It certainly got me hooked enough to read up through the fourth book. After that, I was a little Ender-ed out, but I could see myself re-reading some of these, or continuing at some point.
Very basically, Ender is a young boy, and an outcast in society, for a big reason that is clear from the get-go. He gets recruited into an elite military school at younger than the standard age, where the kids train to be the best warriors possible in order to kick the butts of the aliens who kicked our butts a decade or so previously. From this fairly simple premise, Orson Scott Card got 3 really good books, and 1 mostly good book (and the rest I can't speak to) without having to thoroughly exhaust his bag of writerly tricks.
Though less in the way of grand themes, there is definitely a lot to hang your hat on intellectually, e.g., dystopia, family dynamics, ethics of war, cultural differences (esp. in Book 4)... and so long as the action is interesting, the characters are engaging, and the writing is good, I am up for pretty much anything.
2. Turn and face ...
More significantly, answering Sarah's inquiry got me thinking about why I had this prejudice. There is no logic to it at all, which makes it a true Capital-P Prejudice. I never had any highfalutin standards for my reading material, and though I do read what you might call literature every once in a while, I never thought of myself as being literary. I have read romance novels. I have no business talkin' smack about people who read sci-fi, y'know?
I will readily confess my other ____-snobs, i.e., wine snob, music snob, yarn snob..... But a book snob, I am not. If DH asks you where his Star Trek novels went, don't tell him they're in my book basket next to the bed.
3. The strange...
As for yarn, I am changing my mind about cotton. My second sweater was a white cotton tunic from a Spring/Summer issue of VK, maybe 5 or 6 years ago. I believe the pattern called for Classic Elite Weekend Cotton. Back then, I was a new knitter, and pretty much everything I made was either a Lion Brand Pattern or kit, and I used the requisite Lion Brand yarn. When a pattern didn't call for Lion Brand yarn, I substituted. This wasn't a conscious thing. It was an access thing. I didn't make much money, there weren't lots of yarn shops where I was living, so I knitted with what I had.
For this cotton sweater, I chose a Lion Brand cotton (and I can't remember the name - it might have just been called Lion Cotton), and knitted away at K1P1 ribbing (ouch!) for ages until the sweater was done. It looked good, actually. Not as light and summery fabulous as in the magazine, but respectable, especially for one's second sweater.
It was also massively heavy and had all the drape of a hunk of siding. It wasn't very soft to knit with or to wear, so into the closet it went, until I ended up packing it into a bag of clothes I donated after losing my "living at home during law school" weight. I never touched cotton again. I bypassed it disdainfully in yarn shops, and found the Spring/Summer issues of knitting mags to be utterly devoid of anything knittable. I might have liked the pattern, but I wasn't touching cotton with a 10-foot needle. Nope. Not me.
That might have all changed. A few weeks ago, while browsing in Urban Knitting Studio for a light pretty something to make into a springy shrug (I was thinking silk, or maybe microfiber), I fell in mad crazy love with Blue Sky Cotton, from the wonderful folks who make Blue Sky Alpacas yarn. It was the shade that called out to me: a very light petal pink, so delicate it is only found on babies' toes. I had to have it. I didn't care what it was made of. Okay, I did kind of care, but when I picked it up and felt how soft it was, I was sold.
I started knitting with it this weekend, for another iteration of Stefanie Japel's Minisweater (made my first one a couple of weeks ago, and now I am addicted). Ladies and Germs, it is like knitting with cotton balls. I love it. I love that stitches don't squish up together like wool does, and leaves the fabric uneven. It really is just a touch uneven, and in such a charming way that I am not sure I want to block it.
I probably won't change my stance on eyelash yarn any time soon, but stay tuned for further developments.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Stitch 'n Bitch Calendar: a Quarter in Review
Toward the end of last year, I got it into my head to buy a page a day calendar for my desk at work. Naturally, I gravitated to the two geared to knitters: The Stitch 'n Bitch Calendar (hereinafter "SnB"), and the Knitting Pattern a Day Calendar.
I dithered between them; an informed decision was hampered by the fact that none of the places I went to had them out for display. I asked other knitters what they thought of previous editions, and got a few general opinions. I ultimately settled on the SnB because it was more than just patterns, and I figured that even if I didn't knit any of the patterns, I might get some useful tips.
Given my moderate expectations, I am pleasantly surprised thus far.
1. Patterns
Patterns appear on Fridays, and of the 13 that appeared this quarter, I liked about 1/3 of them and am currently knitting 2: a simple lace scarf (the one in Artfibers Sylph that is helping me keep the shreds of my sanity together), and a feather and fan wrap that uses three gorgeous Colinette yarns and was designed by Helen Kim at Urban Knitting Studio.
Ordinarily, I am a big one for planning projects in advance, and usually consider the yarn purchases extremely carefully. This is certainly true for long-term, "big" projects. I am a little more spontaneous when it comes to "on the go" and quick projects. So, it was fun to have suitable patterns at hand and feel inspired to look for yarn and start them soon. When the scarf pattern appeared, I bought the yarn the same day on my lunch hour, knowing that I would want something both simple and entertaining for some upcoming travel.
There is a third pattern that really stands out for me, which was a big surprise. To my way of thinking there are two types of knitters. Those who knit entrelac (or are willing to give it a whirl), and those who don't (or aren't willing). I was firmly planted in the latter category until the entrelac pouch pattern appeared on the calendar last week. As soon as I saw it, I said, "I have to knit that. It is the perfect first entrelac pattern and I love it." It uses one ball of Noro Silk Garden, which I have yet to try, and I think it will be fun.
For me, that kind of inspiration - something that gets me to try something I never thought I would try - is worth the price of admission.
2. Tips/Techniques
A number of useful things, but the best aspect of this is that I can take the ones I want and file them, and recycle the rest. It is very convenient. By way of comparison, I get a tips and tricks e-newsletter that is chock-full of great information. Frankly, a lot of those tips are more amazing and fabulous than some of the tips in the calendar, but I tend not to print things out right away, and I hate slogging through old email. As a result, I end up just deleting these emails when my inbox gets full. I have to hope that the most relevant of the email tips somehow stick in my head.
3. Favorite Yarns
I like this feature more for the yarn pr0n factor than anything else. It isn't particularly useful to me, as I am unlikely to go out and just buy yarn without a pattern in mind. Although I filed a couple of these pages away because the yarns were unique or particularly lust-worthy, for everyday knitting it is far more likely that I will either use the yarn specified in a pattern (if I like it), or look for a substitute in my LYS before turning to my very slender file on yarns. It's gotta be pretty spectacular to make it into that file -- those are yarns so rare and fabulous that I could see myself buying them in reasonable quantities if I happen upon them.
It was really cool, though to see mentions of my favorite yarns, especially Artfibers Kyoto.
4. Websites
This would have to fall into the "meh" category for me. Most were sites I already know about, and the few new ones weren't that interesting to me. We can all search the internet to find what we want, or get recommendations from other knitters. A calendar page featuring a website doesn't seem like much of a value-add.
5. Other content
The calendar also features quotes and knitting-related anecdotes. I LOVE quotes, and there were a number of good ones in Q1. The thing I liked about them was that most were not specific to knitting, but had to do with creativity or happiness, or something else that most crafty folk would identify with. Two were destined for my refrigerator, which is a good ratio for these things. Realistically, you don't want to collect loads and loads of quotes because then you have too many to display (and it is a little dotty to keep a file, unless you're a writer or something). A few pithy ones are all you need.
Similarly, the stories weren't the sort of things I would save or file away, but they did provide a pleasant moment between tasks at work, or first thing in the morning over my cup of coffee.
Overall, I'd give the SnB calendar a B+ for Q1. I probably will post a review at the end of each quarter, much more concise than this one, since there won't be much background. Just the highlights.
I dithered between them; an informed decision was hampered by the fact that none of the places I went to had them out for display. I asked other knitters what they thought of previous editions, and got a few general opinions. I ultimately settled on the SnB because it was more than just patterns, and I figured that even if I didn't knit any of the patterns, I might get some useful tips.
Given my moderate expectations, I am pleasantly surprised thus far.
1. Patterns
Patterns appear on Fridays, and of the 13 that appeared this quarter, I liked about 1/3 of them and am currently knitting 2: a simple lace scarf (the one in Artfibers Sylph that is helping me keep the shreds of my sanity together), and a feather and fan wrap that uses three gorgeous Colinette yarns and was designed by Helen Kim at Urban Knitting Studio.
Ordinarily, I am a big one for planning projects in advance, and usually consider the yarn purchases extremely carefully. This is certainly true for long-term, "big" projects. I am a little more spontaneous when it comes to "on the go" and quick projects. So, it was fun to have suitable patterns at hand and feel inspired to look for yarn and start them soon. When the scarf pattern appeared, I bought the yarn the same day on my lunch hour, knowing that I would want something both simple and entertaining for some upcoming travel.
There is a third pattern that really stands out for me, which was a big surprise. To my way of thinking there are two types of knitters. Those who knit entrelac (or are willing to give it a whirl), and those who don't (or aren't willing). I was firmly planted in the latter category until the entrelac pouch pattern appeared on the calendar last week. As soon as I saw it, I said, "I have to knit that. It is the perfect first entrelac pattern and I love it." It uses one ball of Noro Silk Garden, which I have yet to try, and I think it will be fun.
For me, that kind of inspiration - something that gets me to try something I never thought I would try - is worth the price of admission.
2. Tips/Techniques
A number of useful things, but the best aspect of this is that I can take the ones I want and file them, and recycle the rest. It is very convenient. By way of comparison, I get a tips and tricks e-newsletter that is chock-full of great information. Frankly, a lot of those tips are more amazing and fabulous than some of the tips in the calendar, but I tend not to print things out right away, and I hate slogging through old email. As a result, I end up just deleting these emails when my inbox gets full. I have to hope that the most relevant of the email tips somehow stick in my head.
3. Favorite Yarns
I like this feature more for the yarn pr0n factor than anything else. It isn't particularly useful to me, as I am unlikely to go out and just buy yarn without a pattern in mind. Although I filed a couple of these pages away because the yarns were unique or particularly lust-worthy, for everyday knitting it is far more likely that I will either use the yarn specified in a pattern (if I like it), or look for a substitute in my LYS before turning to my very slender file on yarns. It's gotta be pretty spectacular to make it into that file -- those are yarns so rare and fabulous that I could see myself buying them in reasonable quantities if I happen upon them.
It was really cool, though to see mentions of my favorite yarns, especially Artfibers Kyoto.
4. Websites
This would have to fall into the "meh" category for me. Most were sites I already know about, and the few new ones weren't that interesting to me. We can all search the internet to find what we want, or get recommendations from other knitters. A calendar page featuring a website doesn't seem like much of a value-add.
5. Other content
The calendar also features quotes and knitting-related anecdotes. I LOVE quotes, and there were a number of good ones in Q1. The thing I liked about them was that most were not specific to knitting, but had to do with creativity or happiness, or something else that most crafty folk would identify with. Two were destined for my refrigerator, which is a good ratio for these things. Realistically, you don't want to collect loads and loads of quotes because then you have too many to display (and it is a little dotty to keep a file, unless you're a writer or something). A few pithy ones are all you need.
Similarly, the stories weren't the sort of things I would save or file away, but they did provide a pleasant moment between tasks at work, or first thing in the morning over my cup of coffee.
Overall, I'd give the SnB calendar a B+ for Q1. I probably will post a review at the end of each quarter, much more concise than this one, since there won't be much background. Just the highlights.
Monday, March 26, 2007
A Rash of Stash
Lots of talk about stashes lately. Lots of talk. Folks de-stashing, cataloguing stash, knitting from stash, justifying stash, measuring stash, reading stash....
I like reading stash, because it is one of those fluid concepts that have always appealed to my liberally art-ed brain. It's the classic essay question that consists of one sentence describing the topic, followed by one word: discuss. Just dive in, bang around for awhile, and out comes genius. Or, what you hope is genius anyway. You could write a poem if you felt like it, and it might work. Not on the bar exam, but pretty much everywhere else.
But the other boats, I missed. I wasn't even on the pier. In fact, I was probably sitting at the cafe next to the pier having a glass of wine after a successful yarn shopping excursion. Except for a de-stash to charity around Thanksgiving, and a stash re-org after the New Year, I haven't seriously addressed the stash question in my home apart from, apparently, adding to it.
Here's the thing. On an individual level, I get it. Knitter has too much yarn and commits to knitting a bunch of it before buying anything new, or Knitter has yarn she knows she will never knit, and finds a recipient for same. I find it curious, however, that so many people are seized by the same impulse at the same time. De-stashing is all the rage. De-stashing is the new knitting, or new yoga or new... something?
Ordinarily, I'd start ruminating about why this is the case. What is it about all of these Knitters that draws them to De-stashtown, while I am heading the opposite way, to Los Altos, home to two great yarn shops? Why was everyone knitting Clapotis, and my impulse to do so began and ended at printing out the pattern? It's really beautiful, and in a yummy yarn, and I love pretty much anything that could reasonably be called a shawl; yet I was so off the Clapotis bandwagon, that I didn't know it was pronounced Clap-oh-tee. How did you all know that? Here I was, six years of French classes under my belt, calling it Cla-paw-tiss.
The answer doesn't truly lie with all the de-stashing, Clapotis-knitting Knitters out there. They are all doing it for various worthy and perfectly unassailable reasons. I am not doing it for the same reason I have not done many, many other things:
I am not a joiner. You could have tattooed it on my forehead in Kindergarten (someone threatened this to my parents, I am sure), and it would still be relevant today. I am considering putting it on my tombstone.
One of these days, though, I might get around to somehow cataloguing or quantifying my stash in some way. Of course, I'd do it and never keep it up to date, but that's another story.
I like reading stash, because it is one of those fluid concepts that have always appealed to my liberally art-ed brain. It's the classic essay question that consists of one sentence describing the topic, followed by one word: discuss. Just dive in, bang around for awhile, and out comes genius. Or, what you hope is genius anyway. You could write a poem if you felt like it, and it might work. Not on the bar exam, but pretty much everywhere else.
But the other boats, I missed. I wasn't even on the pier. In fact, I was probably sitting at the cafe next to the pier having a glass of wine after a successful yarn shopping excursion. Except for a de-stash to charity around Thanksgiving, and a stash re-org after the New Year, I haven't seriously addressed the stash question in my home apart from, apparently, adding to it.
Here's the thing. On an individual level, I get it. Knitter has too much yarn and commits to knitting a bunch of it before buying anything new, or Knitter has yarn she knows she will never knit, and finds a recipient for same. I find it curious, however, that so many people are seized by the same impulse at the same time. De-stashing is all the rage. De-stashing is the new knitting, or new yoga or new... something?
Ordinarily, I'd start ruminating about why this is the case. What is it about all of these Knitters that draws them to De-stashtown, while I am heading the opposite way, to Los Altos, home to two great yarn shops? Why was everyone knitting Clapotis, and my impulse to do so began and ended at printing out the pattern? It's really beautiful, and in a yummy yarn, and I love pretty much anything that could reasonably be called a shawl; yet I was so off the Clapotis bandwagon, that I didn't know it was pronounced Clap-oh-tee. How did you all know that? Here I was, six years of French classes under my belt, calling it Cla-paw-tiss.
The answer doesn't truly lie with all the de-stashing, Clapotis-knitting Knitters out there. They are all doing it for various worthy and perfectly unassailable reasons. I am not doing it for the same reason I have not done many, many other things:
I am not a joiner. You could have tattooed it on my forehead in Kindergarten (someone threatened this to my parents, I am sure), and it would still be relevant today. I am considering putting it on my tombstone.
One of these days, though, I might get around to somehow cataloguing or quantifying my stash in some way. Of course, I'd do it and never keep it up to date, but that's another story.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
By the book....
Somewhat belatedly, here is my inaugural entry in the Read Your Stash Project .
Before I was an obsessive knitter, I was an obsessive reader. That tapered off a bit when I didn't have a commute. I lived walking distance from my office, and somehow, it didn't seem wise to wander through the Tenderloin and the Financial District with my nose in a book. The former might get my ass kicked, the latter would annoy all the other Fi-Di denizens because I would be in their way. Either could get me hit by a car.
Since I moved to the suburbs and acquired a really quite lovely commute on Caltrain, reading has been back on the agenda. Usually something light and funny, but occasionally I crave something more serious. On my current reading list is Kristin Lavransdatter, by Sigrid Undset. This classic medieval romance was written in 1928, and earned Ms. Undset the Nobel Prize for literature. It is also the first serious work I have fully committed to since finishing The Moor's Last Sigh by Salman Rushdie two years ago.
The Moor's Last Sigh took a lot out of me. It gave me something, too, but reading it was such a tremendously emotional experience that upon finishing it, I cried good and hard for a solid 30 minutes. It is at once the saddest, most affirming, most vivid and most wonderful thing I have ever read. I think on some level I will never read anything that perfect ever again. It is a difficult thing for any other book to live up to.
After that, I re-read some old favorites, picked up a few authors I hadn't read before (Carl Hiaasen became a favorite), and occasionally tried something serious again, only to put it down after a few pages.
Knitting sometimes works that way for me, too. I commit to something large, time consuming, and/or complicated and spend about 90% of my knitting energies on it until it is done. After that, I alternate among some smaller, simpler projects, with perhaps a mediumish project in the background. At some point, the urge for something on a grander scale kicks in, and the cycle starts anew. It is a shorter cycle, I think, than for books, as I knit a lot more than I read most of the time.
But I have digressed. One of the things that strikes me about Kristin Lavransdatter is the time period in which it is set. Kristin lives in the 14th century in Scandinavia, a time period in which everything was made by hand, and in a place that has given us some of knitting's most treasured classics. Kristin actually doesn't knit (at least not so far), but she, along with her mother and sisters, spins and weaves. The cloth they make marks the significant moments in their lives (a wedding dress for Kristin, her trousseau, swaddling cloths) and is a part of their daily lives as well (bedding, tablecloths, everyday clothing).
For most of the people in the world today, the things we make are not a necessity of every day life -- not in the sense of "if we don't make it, we won't have clothes." In fact, crafting has become somewhat of a luxury, whether that luxury is time, money for supplies, a wealth of options from which to choose, or a combination of these. Happily, handmade things do still mark the significant occasions in our lives. Weddings and babies are both heralded with what most of us would consider our greatest masterpieces (wedding ring shawl, anyone?) and sweetest whimsies (like the watermelon hat I recently made for a friend's baby shower).
The act of making these things, however, might have an element of necessity, in the sense that this act gives us something adaptive and useful that we otherwise might not have. It gives us patience waiting in line, it gives us solace when we are too overwrought to read or listen to music. It puts us in touch with something traditional and handmade in a world that is increasingly detached from tradition and focused on mass production. Perhaps in this last way, making something by hand is a revolutionary act. How many of you have been knitting, crocheting, or cross-stitching in public, and encounter someone observing you who seems a completely shocked?
For me, the solace of crafting (in my case, knitting) has a particular relevance. At its most mundane level, it is something that helps me calm down when I am anxious, or feel better when I am upset. One time, it was a necessity for me. I was at work one morning last summer, when I got a call from my mom. It was a call I had been dreading for weeks, as my grandpa had been in the hospital with cancer for some time. She gave me the news we had all feared, that he had died, and then we hung up. I was literally incapable of speaking through the sobs, so I instant-messaged my boss to tell him I needed to leave.
On the train home, my book was useless. It may as well have been written in hieroglyphics, for all I was able to read of it. I had, however, been knitting my first-ever sock during my commute, and that is what I reached for when I needed something, anything, to keep my eyes downward and the tears at bay until I got home.
Reading Kristin Lavransdatter, I wonder if Kristin finds solace in her work. If spinning, for example, produces something her family needs, as well as gives her solace for her troubles. Ms. Undset does not really say. Kristin seeks solace in her faith, more than anything else. She is pious, and her faith is demanding. It requires obedience, atonement, and self-examination, which seem to add sometimes to Kristin's inner turmoil. Spinning and knitting, even with their occasional snarls and tangles and dropped stitches somehow avoid causing more troubles for the troubled. They soothe by giving the troubled person something external to focus on.
Before I was an obsessive knitter, I was an obsessive reader. That tapered off a bit when I didn't have a commute. I lived walking distance from my office, and somehow, it didn't seem wise to wander through the Tenderloin and the Financial District with my nose in a book. The former might get my ass kicked, the latter would annoy all the other Fi-Di denizens because I would be in their way. Either could get me hit by a car.
Since I moved to the suburbs and acquired a really quite lovely commute on Caltrain, reading has been back on the agenda. Usually something light and funny, but occasionally I crave something more serious. On my current reading list is Kristin Lavransdatter, by Sigrid Undset. This classic medieval romance was written in 1928, and earned Ms. Undset the Nobel Prize for literature. It is also the first serious work I have fully committed to since finishing The Moor's Last Sigh by Salman Rushdie two years ago.
The Moor's Last Sigh took a lot out of me. It gave me something, too, but reading it was such a tremendously emotional experience that upon finishing it, I cried good and hard for a solid 30 minutes. It is at once the saddest, most affirming, most vivid and most wonderful thing I have ever read. I think on some level I will never read anything that perfect ever again. It is a difficult thing for any other book to live up to.
After that, I re-read some old favorites, picked up a few authors I hadn't read before (Carl Hiaasen became a favorite), and occasionally tried something serious again, only to put it down after a few pages.
Knitting sometimes works that way for me, too. I commit to something large, time consuming, and/or complicated and spend about 90% of my knitting energies on it until it is done. After that, I alternate among some smaller, simpler projects, with perhaps a mediumish project in the background. At some point, the urge for something on a grander scale kicks in, and the cycle starts anew. It is a shorter cycle, I think, than for books, as I knit a lot more than I read most of the time.
But I have digressed. One of the things that strikes me about Kristin Lavransdatter is the time period in which it is set. Kristin lives in the 14th century in Scandinavia, a time period in which everything was made by hand, and in a place that has given us some of knitting's most treasured classics. Kristin actually doesn't knit (at least not so far), but she, along with her mother and sisters, spins and weaves. The cloth they make marks the significant moments in their lives (a wedding dress for Kristin, her trousseau, swaddling cloths) and is a part of their daily lives as well (bedding, tablecloths, everyday clothing).
For most of the people in the world today, the things we make are not a necessity of every day life -- not in the sense of "if we don't make it, we won't have clothes." In fact, crafting has become somewhat of a luxury, whether that luxury is time, money for supplies, a wealth of options from which to choose, or a combination of these. Happily, handmade things do still mark the significant occasions in our lives. Weddings and babies are both heralded with what most of us would consider our greatest masterpieces (wedding ring shawl, anyone?) and sweetest whimsies (like the watermelon hat I recently made for a friend's baby shower).
The act of making these things, however, might have an element of necessity, in the sense that this act gives us something adaptive and useful that we otherwise might not have. It gives us patience waiting in line, it gives us solace when we are too overwrought to read or listen to music. It puts us in touch with something traditional and handmade in a world that is increasingly detached from tradition and focused on mass production. Perhaps in this last way, making something by hand is a revolutionary act. How many of you have been knitting, crocheting, or cross-stitching in public, and encounter someone observing you who seems a completely shocked?
For me, the solace of crafting (in my case, knitting) has a particular relevance. At its most mundane level, it is something that helps me calm down when I am anxious, or feel better when I am upset. One time, it was a necessity for me. I was at work one morning last summer, when I got a call from my mom. It was a call I had been dreading for weeks, as my grandpa had been in the hospital with cancer for some time. She gave me the news we had all feared, that he had died, and then we hung up. I was literally incapable of speaking through the sobs, so I instant-messaged my boss to tell him I needed to leave.
On the train home, my book was useless. It may as well have been written in hieroglyphics, for all I was able to read of it. I had, however, been knitting my first-ever sock during my commute, and that is what I reached for when I needed something, anything, to keep my eyes downward and the tears at bay until I got home.
Reading Kristin Lavransdatter, I wonder if Kristin finds solace in her work. If spinning, for example, produces something her family needs, as well as gives her solace for her troubles. Ms. Undset does not really say. Kristin seeks solace in her faith, more than anything else. She is pious, and her faith is demanding. It requires obedience, atonement, and self-examination, which seem to add sometimes to Kristin's inner turmoil. Spinning and knitting, even with their occasional snarls and tangles and dropped stitches somehow avoid causing more troubles for the troubled. They soothe by giving the troubled person something external to focus on.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Mantra
First of all, I wanted to send a shout-out and thank you to the recent commenters, Sarah, Kate and Denise. Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment! Its so nice to see the bloggers I read regularly find their way here as well.
Now then, I have a friend named Katherine who likes to refer to her angry self as the "Wrath of Kath." She once suggested that I might start trotting out my "Zen of Jen" on suitable occasions, but let's face it: I just don't have it. But I might be learning it; three recent episodes have reinforced the zen-ness of knitting in my otherwise completely zen-less brain.
Episode 1: last Friday, lunch hour.
It was a stressful day at the end of a stressful week. I decided some knitting refreshment was in order, so I headed out to meet my knitting buddies at the usual place and time (we meet occasionally on Fridays at lunch).
I do virtually all of my knitting at home, after I have had a chance to unwind. By the time I pick up the needles, I am already in relaxing mode. Similarly, at previous lunch hour knitting meetings, work has been relatively calm, and I have been able to slip pretty readily into knitting mode. Not this time. My needles couldn't seem to find a comfortable place in my hands, and my pattern seemed confusing at first. This latter bit was particularly telling, as I'd been knitting on this scarf for a few days now, and it is a herringbone lace, which is easier (!!) than even the ol' feather and fan. Seriously.
It was the first time I had ever noticed the difference between my state of mind in Work Mode, and my state of mind in Knit Mode. Truth be told, Work Mode is kind of a twitchy klutz who can't focus unless 500 things are happening at once. But I kept at it, and sure enough, Knit Mode got up off the chaise longue, stretched a bit, and picked up the needles. I felt a steady wave of calm suffuse my body, followed by an internal click, after which I was knitting along at my usual rhythm. I was amazed.
Episode 2: on airplane Friday night.
I used to be a great flyer. But as I got older and had more to lose (and after 9/11, too), the whole concept of flying seemed really scary to me. So scary, in fact, that when I landed in Las Vegas for my bachelorette weekend (Memorial Day Weekend, 2006) I actually had a panic attack. The whole show came out on stage, with shortness of breath, racing heart, overwhelming feelings of impending disaster and, of course, shnuffly tears accompanied by mucus, all dancing merrily together in a long chorus line. Hoooboy.
I did more or less successfully fly to and from Italy last September without much in the way of panic, but then, DH was with me and I'd had a couple of drinks. It was also really late at night and I was exhausted.
So, the true test came on Friday, March 16, when I flew to Las Vegas for my dear friend's baby shower (no, it wasn't that we were all going to see Thunder from Down Under, she lives in Henderson). I had fortified myself with a glass of way too buttery Chardonnay, but the main thing is, I had my knitting on board (the aforementioned scarf). Though I had to put it away for landing, I was able to draw on that zen-like feeling to short-circuit my fear. For some reason, planes coming into Vegas do so really fast, and continue at what feels like the same lightning speed when they meet the runway.
When I felt the panic rise, for rise it did, I found myself repeating the stitch pattern in my head over and over again: "knit two yarn over purl two together, knit two yarn over purl two together...." Before I knew it, we were at the gate, and I was ready to disembark. Crisis averted. The lesson apparently stuck, because I didn't have a single bit of panic on the way back Sunday.
Episode 3: Today's lunch special is yarn.
A bit of a crazy morning got me thinking that I'd like to knit at lunch today. I headed up to Artfibers with the now famous panic-averting scarf, which I am knitting in their Sylph yarn. After checking out their new roving, Miso (of which I bought 100 grams), I sat down in a chair to knit. And you know what? This time, I didn't have any problems switching from Work Mode to Knit Mode. Knit Mode just happened. Zen just happened.
Now then, I have a friend named Katherine who likes to refer to her angry self as the "Wrath of Kath." She once suggested that I might start trotting out my "Zen of Jen" on suitable occasions, but let's face it: I just don't have it. But I might be learning it; three recent episodes have reinforced the zen-ness of knitting in my otherwise completely zen-less brain.
Episode 1: last Friday, lunch hour.
It was a stressful day at the end of a stressful week. I decided some knitting refreshment was in order, so I headed out to meet my knitting buddies at the usual place and time (we meet occasionally on Fridays at lunch).
I do virtually all of my knitting at home, after I have had a chance to unwind. By the time I pick up the needles, I am already in relaxing mode. Similarly, at previous lunch hour knitting meetings, work has been relatively calm, and I have been able to slip pretty readily into knitting mode. Not this time. My needles couldn't seem to find a comfortable place in my hands, and my pattern seemed confusing at first. This latter bit was particularly telling, as I'd been knitting on this scarf for a few days now, and it is a herringbone lace, which is easier (!!) than even the ol' feather and fan. Seriously.
It was the first time I had ever noticed the difference between my state of mind in Work Mode, and my state of mind in Knit Mode. Truth be told, Work Mode is kind of a twitchy klutz who can't focus unless 500 things are happening at once. But I kept at it, and sure enough, Knit Mode got up off the chaise longue, stretched a bit, and picked up the needles. I felt a steady wave of calm suffuse my body, followed by an internal click, after which I was knitting along at my usual rhythm. I was amazed.
Episode 2: on airplane Friday night.
I used to be a great flyer. But as I got older and had more to lose (and after 9/11, too), the whole concept of flying seemed really scary to me. So scary, in fact, that when I landed in Las Vegas for my bachelorette weekend (Memorial Day Weekend, 2006) I actually had a panic attack. The whole show came out on stage, with shortness of breath, racing heart, overwhelming feelings of impending disaster and, of course, shnuffly tears accompanied by mucus, all dancing merrily together in a long chorus line. Hoooboy.
I did more or less successfully fly to and from Italy last September without much in the way of panic, but then, DH was with me and I'd had a couple of drinks. It was also really late at night and I was exhausted.
So, the true test came on Friday, March 16, when I flew to Las Vegas for my dear friend's baby shower (no, it wasn't that we were all going to see Thunder from Down Under, she lives in Henderson). I had fortified myself with a glass of way too buttery Chardonnay, but the main thing is, I had my knitting on board (the aforementioned scarf). Though I had to put it away for landing, I was able to draw on that zen-like feeling to short-circuit my fear. For some reason, planes coming into Vegas do so really fast, and continue at what feels like the same lightning speed when they meet the runway.
When I felt the panic rise, for rise it did, I found myself repeating the stitch pattern in my head over and over again: "knit two yarn over purl two together, knit two yarn over purl two together...." Before I knew it, we were at the gate, and I was ready to disembark. Crisis averted. The lesson apparently stuck, because I didn't have a single bit of panic on the way back Sunday.
Episode 3: Today's lunch special is yarn.
A bit of a crazy morning got me thinking that I'd like to knit at lunch today. I headed up to Artfibers with the now famous panic-averting scarf, which I am knitting in their Sylph yarn. After checking out their new roving, Miso (of which I bought 100 grams), I sat down in a chair to knit. And you know what? This time, I didn't have any problems switching from Work Mode to Knit Mode. Knit Mode just happened. Zen just happened.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Wine Pairing: What to Drink With Yarn
For those who are both wine lovers and knitters, at some point you will face the following dilemma:
You have had a long and difficult day at work (or you have had a wonderful day and feel like a little celebration). In either case, perhaps some grape-derived refreshment is in order. However, you always knit in the evenings. It is how you unwind, so to speak. Also, you have a sweater on deadline. A sweater with cables perhaps, or a tricky bit of shortrowing somewhere. In other words, the wine cannot interfere with your ability to knit. Maybe the yarn is cream-colored, too, and wouldn't look too hot with splotches of your favorite Pinot Noir. There's hand-dyeing, and then there are wild accidents. What are you going to do?
I have your answer. German Rieslings. They are low in alcohol, often complex, tannin free (no headaches, for those who have sensitivities to red wine) and come in both sweeter and drier styles. They have an unparalleled quality-to-price ratio. The drier ones can pair extremely well with food; everything from seafood to your favorite Chinese or Thai takeaway. My husband and I drink quite a bit of Riesling. It is defintely his favorite white wine, and is near the top of my list as well (the only thing that beats it for me is Condrieu -- a wine from northern Rhone made from Viognier).
The only sticking points are that these can be a little hard to find, and the terminology can be daunting. Oh, and if you don't care for white wines, you are out of luck. But for the rest of you, check out this helpful guide to German wines, as well as some of our experiences with Rieslings.
I would even say that the act of knitting is kind of like drinking a good German Riesling (I have to keep saying "German," by the way, because there are some made in other places which, sad to say, do not compare with the real thing). The palate entry is like casting on. You've just started, and although you know what you are making, you don't have a sense of what it looks like yet. As the wine expands on your palate, you start the stitch pattern. The flavors and stitches take shape and show their beauty and complexity. There are some tricky bits, and you don't quite know what you are tasting. The flavors are somewhat elusive, and you're not sure what your pattern is telling you to do either. At this point, you just need to have a little bit of faith. The wine and the pattern will reveal themselves in the fullness of time. Ultimately, you will finish, where the flavors will linger a bit, leaving just their memory on your tongue, and every time you pick up your shawl, or sweater, or hat, you will look back on the minutes, hours and days you spent knitting it, and smile.
Salut (and happy knitting)!
You have had a long and difficult day at work (or you have had a wonderful day and feel like a little celebration). In either case, perhaps some grape-derived refreshment is in order. However, you always knit in the evenings. It is how you unwind, so to speak. Also, you have a sweater on deadline. A sweater with cables perhaps, or a tricky bit of shortrowing somewhere. In other words, the wine cannot interfere with your ability to knit. Maybe the yarn is cream-colored, too, and wouldn't look too hot with splotches of your favorite Pinot Noir. There's hand-dyeing, and then there are wild accidents. What are you going to do?
I have your answer. German Rieslings. They are low in alcohol, often complex, tannin free (no headaches, for those who have sensitivities to red wine) and come in both sweeter and drier styles. They have an unparalleled quality-to-price ratio. The drier ones can pair extremely well with food; everything from seafood to your favorite Chinese or Thai takeaway. My husband and I drink quite a bit of Riesling. It is defintely his favorite white wine, and is near the top of my list as well (the only thing that beats it for me is Condrieu -- a wine from northern Rhone made from Viognier).
The only sticking points are that these can be a little hard to find, and the terminology can be daunting. Oh, and if you don't care for white wines, you are out of luck. But for the rest of you, check out this helpful guide to German wines, as well as some of our experiences with Rieslings.
I would even say that the act of knitting is kind of like drinking a good German Riesling (I have to keep saying "German," by the way, because there are some made in other places which, sad to say, do not compare with the real thing). The palate entry is like casting on. You've just started, and although you know what you are making, you don't have a sense of what it looks like yet. As the wine expands on your palate, you start the stitch pattern. The flavors and stitches take shape and show their beauty and complexity. There are some tricky bits, and you don't quite know what you are tasting. The flavors are somewhat elusive, and you're not sure what your pattern is telling you to do either. At this point, you just need to have a little bit of faith. The wine and the pattern will reveal themselves in the fullness of time. Ultimately, you will finish, where the flavors will linger a bit, leaving just their memory on your tongue, and every time you pick up your shawl, or sweater, or hat, you will look back on the minutes, hours and days you spent knitting it, and smile.
Salut (and happy knitting)!
Friday, February 23, 2007
A Knitter's Lent
In addition to the more usual observations during this time, Lent has become a factor in my knitting (and now spinning -- more on that in a moment). I am devoting most of my knitterly efforts to the Violet's Pink Ribbon Knit-A-Long and sending healing thoughts to Miss Violet. I also found a these readings that touch both the yarn and the spirit:
Spinning a Yarn
Linen Spinning for the Shroud of Turin
Both are excellent articles. I love anything that delves into the historical, technical, "how things are made," particularly relating to fiber arts and textiles. I thought the piece was really absorbing. Spinning a Yarn is simply beautiful, and the author perfectly describes the productive-yet-calming-yet-'wasting time'ness of spinning.
I had entertained the idea of not buying yarn during Lent, but this was apparently too much to hope for. I popped in to Nine Rubies Knitting in downtown San Mateo on Saturday. I didn't go crazy - just a few skeins of sock yarn - but yeah. The Lenten Yarn Fast will now have to get serious.
This was the first time I had been to Nine Rubies. It is an absolutely beautiful shop, and the staff was very welcoming and helpful. I love the way the yarns are displayed, and the needles and notions are tucked into handy corners throughout the shop. My favorite features are a backroom with a big table for social knitting, and a fantastic area in the front bay window -- if Jane Eyre was a knitter, she would have secreted herself in this spot for a bit of quiet knitting (instead of in the window seats behind the curtains with a good book). In this auspicious spot, I found some Tilli Thomas yarns (which I didn't buy), and some Schaefer Anne (which I did) as well as a great selection of books. I wouldn't hesitate to send other knitters, local and visiting, to this shop. I know I will definitely be back.
This is in contrast to the yarn shop I popped into the previous weekend, also for the first time, and to which I will probably not return. I don't necessarily feel like I have to be greeted and welcomed with great fanfare when I enter a shop, but even to me, this place seemed a bit chilly in that regard. Not chilly. Impersonal. It had the feel of the temporary headquarters for a political campaign. More like a conference room than a yarn shop.
Though they had some things I would most definitely buy (Koigu, for example), the prices seemed high, so I gave the old pocketbook a rest. The yarns were arranged by colors in bins along the wall.... which can make a pretty sort of gradation or palette around the shop, but makes it cumbersome to shop for anything specific. Most folks I know aren't looking for "a red yarn," they are looking for "something in a worsted weight," first, and then start considering color. The selection of needles and notions was not very wide, and again, I noticed that the Crystal Palace needles (which I buy regularly) were about $3 more than I usually see.
So. Spinning. A few weeks ago, I started spinning with a spindle and fiber I got from Hello Yarn. It definitely took me a bit to get used to handling a spindle, and though I am by no means adept, I have enjoyed it and I have spun two small hanks of pretty regular singles. It was enough of an introduction to inspire teaching myself to spin on a wheel, and purchasing a wheel. I chose the Kromski Prelude; I can't wait until it gets here.
In other news, I frogged the EPS sweater, for two reasons. First was yarn choice. I love the yarn (Lorna's Laces Shepherd Worsted), and will certainly use it in something else -- just not a sweater. Probably a small throw.
I finished my mock cable socks a while back. They turned out absolutely great. In fact, I am wearing them right now. I haven't cast on any new socks, although I have been wanting to. I think I will save it for my first shipment in the Rockin' Sock Club.
Spinning a Yarn
Linen Spinning for the Shroud of Turin
Both are excellent articles. I love anything that delves into the historical, technical, "how things are made," particularly relating to fiber arts and textiles. I thought the piece was really absorbing. Spinning a Yarn is simply beautiful, and the author perfectly describes the productive-yet-calming-yet-'wasting time'ness of spinning.
I had entertained the idea of not buying yarn during Lent, but this was apparently too much to hope for. I popped in to Nine Rubies Knitting in downtown San Mateo on Saturday. I didn't go crazy - just a few skeins of sock yarn - but yeah. The Lenten Yarn Fast will now have to get serious.
This was the first time I had been to Nine Rubies. It is an absolutely beautiful shop, and the staff was very welcoming and helpful. I love the way the yarns are displayed, and the needles and notions are tucked into handy corners throughout the shop. My favorite features are a backroom with a big table for social knitting, and a fantastic area in the front bay window -- if Jane Eyre was a knitter, she would have secreted herself in this spot for a bit of quiet knitting (instead of in the window seats behind the curtains with a good book). In this auspicious spot, I found some Tilli Thomas yarns (which I didn't buy), and some Schaefer Anne (which I did) as well as a great selection of books. I wouldn't hesitate to send other knitters, local and visiting, to this shop. I know I will definitely be back.
This is in contrast to the yarn shop I popped into the previous weekend, also for the first time, and to which I will probably not return. I don't necessarily feel like I have to be greeted and welcomed with great fanfare when I enter a shop, but even to me, this place seemed a bit chilly in that regard. Not chilly. Impersonal. It had the feel of the temporary headquarters for a political campaign. More like a conference room than a yarn shop.
Though they had some things I would most definitely buy (Koigu, for example), the prices seemed high, so I gave the old pocketbook a rest. The yarns were arranged by colors in bins along the wall.... which can make a pretty sort of gradation or palette around the shop, but makes it cumbersome to shop for anything specific. Most folks I know aren't looking for "a red yarn," they are looking for "something in a worsted weight," first, and then start considering color. The selection of needles and notions was not very wide, and again, I noticed that the Crystal Palace needles (which I buy regularly) were about $3 more than I usually see.
So. Spinning. A few weeks ago, I started spinning with a spindle and fiber I got from Hello Yarn. It definitely took me a bit to get used to handling a spindle, and though I am by no means adept, I have enjoyed it and I have spun two small hanks of pretty regular singles. It was enough of an introduction to inspire teaching myself to spin on a wheel, and purchasing a wheel. I chose the Kromski Prelude; I can't wait until it gets here.
In other news, I frogged the EPS sweater, for two reasons. First was yarn choice. I love the yarn (Lorna's Laces Shepherd Worsted), and will certainly use it in something else -- just not a sweater. Probably a small throw.
I finished my mock cable socks a while back. They turned out absolutely great. In fact, I am wearing them right now. I haven't cast on any new socks, although I have been wanting to. I think I will save it for my first shipment in the Rockin' Sock Club.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
ruh-roh.
I counted up all of my UFOs and determined that my WIP list in the sidebar is a wee bit inaccurate. I cheated and only included what I conveniently consider the "active" projects, and the smaller ones that I start and finish pretty quickly, like the gifty scarf, and anything that sounds really impressive, like Fir Cone. This is the complete, annotated list, as of today:
1. EPS Sweater (nearly done)*
2. Mock Cable Socks (nearly done)*
3. Cascade Fixation socks (not a whole lot of progress, but for DH and definitely a keeper)
4. Ivy sweater from Knitty (just cast on - but definitely a keeper)
5. Reversible Cable Shawl (might be frogged - think yarn would be better in another, albeit unspecified, project)
6. Children of Lir Stole (loving it, good progress)*
7. Fir Cone Shawl from Folk Shawls (cast on only; might be frogged; think would be better in slightly heavier yarn -- this is a true laceweight)
8. Fair Isle golf club covers (1 nearly done; planning set of 3).
(*) denotes "active" projects.
I think that is everything. I hope so, as I clearly already have a problem. I used to keep it strictly to three, but I have gone a little crazy over the last few months.
Here is the plan:
A. Finish UFOs 1, 2 and 6.
B. Do not cast on anything new, including socks. No matter how strongly I might feel to the contrary, the Sophie's Toes (June Wedding colorway) and Lisa Souza Sock! (Jonquil colorway) are included in the moratorium.
C. Frog 5 and 7. It sucks, but it is time to face reality. The Anny Blatt fine kid could be a gorgeous twinset, and I really should have a slightly heavier yarn for the Fir Cone. The Lisa Souza laceweight will be better served in a different project, or even a couple of projects. Maybe matching triangular shawls for me & my mom.
D. Keep 3, 4 and 8, bumping them up in the queue as 1, 2 and 6 are finished.
1. EPS Sweater (nearly done)*
2. Mock Cable Socks (nearly done)*
3. Cascade Fixation socks (not a whole lot of progress, but for DH and definitely a keeper)
4. Ivy sweater from Knitty (just cast on - but definitely a keeper)
5. Reversible Cable Shawl (might be frogged - think yarn would be better in another, albeit unspecified, project)
6. Children of Lir Stole (loving it, good progress)*
7. Fir Cone Shawl from Folk Shawls (cast on only; might be frogged; think would be better in slightly heavier yarn -- this is a true laceweight)
8. Fair Isle golf club covers (1 nearly done; planning set of 3).
(*) denotes "active" projects.
I think that is everything. I hope so, as I clearly already have a problem. I used to keep it strictly to three, but I have gone a little crazy over the last few months.
Here is the plan:
A. Finish UFOs 1, 2 and 6.
B. Do not cast on anything new, including socks. No matter how strongly I might feel to the contrary, the Sophie's Toes (June Wedding colorway) and Lisa Souza Sock! (Jonquil colorway) are included in the moratorium.
C. Frog 5 and 7. It sucks, but it is time to face reality. The Anny Blatt fine kid could be a gorgeous twinset, and I really should have a slightly heavier yarn for the Fir Cone. The Lisa Souza laceweight will be better served in a different project, or even a couple of projects. Maybe matching triangular shawls for me & my mom.
D. Keep 3, 4 and 8, bumping them up in the queue as 1, 2 and 6 are finished.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Hat's On to DH!
I made a hat for DH for his birthday. My first handknit gift to him, and he loved it! It is the ribbed watch cap from Lisa Myer's "The Joy of Knitting." I did it in Rowan CashSoft Aran (black, of course) on size 7s. There are two reasons for this: firstly, he doesn't have a large head (marry small people - your projects will get done so much faster) and a slightly heavier worsted to make a slightly larger hat didn't seem necessary, and second.... well, second, this yarn is just about the softest thing you'll ever touch.
I used about 1 and 2/3 balls to make the hat, and it came out great.
Let me rephrase. It came out perfectly. I was so pleased with its technical perfection and beautiful symmetry that I actually made DH bend down a bit so I could examine the top of his hatted head and note the way the decreases flowed into one another, and the ribs met so neatly at the top.
This is in contrast to my regrettable sock-toe grafting moment a couple of days before DH's bday, which involved swearing, tossing and shoving of things, and peevish (albeit temporary) refusal to partake of the mozzarella cheesesticks DH thoughtfully cooked up for us. I have come to a realization about myself: I suck at grafting. This means:
1. I must master grafting, probably by doing swatches instead of attempting on actual socks, and probably when DH is out doing other things; or
2. I must find viable alternatives to grafting, such as toe-up socks, three-needle bindoffs, etc. Am I a real sock knitter if I don't graft?
But I digress. I did close the toe, albeit not so fabulously. I am going to take it out and re-do with the three-needle bindoff. The good news, though, is that I did cast on the second sock immediately (and without twisting, which was all but guaranteed given my vile mood).
At the moment, I am working almost exclusively on SBT2 (nearly done), and a gifty scarf. Okay, there are also ocassional assignations with a certain EPS sweater, and a reversible cable shawl. Oh, and DH's golf club covers. The gifty scarf is going superfast - it is the ideal commute project, and I am taking it to my lunch-hour knitting group on Fridays.
I used about 1 and 2/3 balls to make the hat, and it came out great.
Let me rephrase. It came out perfectly. I was so pleased with its technical perfection and beautiful symmetry that I actually made DH bend down a bit so I could examine the top of his hatted head and note the way the decreases flowed into one another, and the ribs met so neatly at the top.
This is in contrast to my regrettable sock-toe grafting moment a couple of days before DH's bday, which involved swearing, tossing and shoving of things, and peevish (albeit temporary) refusal to partake of the mozzarella cheesesticks DH thoughtfully cooked up for us. I have come to a realization about myself: I suck at grafting. This means:
1. I must master grafting, probably by doing swatches instead of attempting on actual socks, and probably when DH is out doing other things; or
2. I must find viable alternatives to grafting, such as toe-up socks, three-needle bindoffs, etc. Am I a real sock knitter if I don't graft?
But I digress. I did close the toe, albeit not so fabulously. I am going to take it out and re-do with the three-needle bindoff. The good news, though, is that I did cast on the second sock immediately (and without twisting, which was all but guaranteed given my vile mood).
At the moment, I am working almost exclusively on SBT2 (nearly done), and a gifty scarf. Okay, there are also ocassional assignations with a certain EPS sweater, and a reversible cable shawl. Oh, and DH's golf club covers. The gifty scarf is going superfast - it is the ideal commute project, and I am taking it to my lunch-hour knitting group on Fridays.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Girls in the Hood
My sweater plans added up to way too many hoodies, didn't it? Definitely doing the Central Park because I think the Jo Sharp is so perfect for it. Because it is kind of similar, I will probably forego Arwen and find something else fabulous for the Knit Picks' Andean Silk.
The Noni bag is still unfinished. I did some light embroidery and beading on the flowers, and sewed them to the bag, but I still haven't done the lining. I have a hard time motivating myself to drag out the sewing machine on a weeknight, but I just might do it during this week.
Weekends have been busy with other things - family gatherings, wine-related events, and the NFL playoffs. I am disappointed that the Patriots lost to the Colts. Not altogether surprised. But now that the Colts are in, I'd like them to win the Superbowl for Tony Dungy - definitely think he's earned it.
Even so, lots of knitting is getting done, including a couple of gifts, and row upon row of my EPS sweater. I want to get that done before I really really start on any other sweaters.
That's about it!
The Noni bag is still unfinished. I did some light embroidery and beading on the flowers, and sewed them to the bag, but I still haven't done the lining. I have a hard time motivating myself to drag out the sewing machine on a weeknight, but I just might do it during this week.
Weekends have been busy with other things - family gatherings, wine-related events, and the NFL playoffs. I am disappointed that the Patriots lost to the Colts. Not altogether surprised. But now that the Colts are in, I'd like them to win the Superbowl for Tony Dungy - definitely think he's earned it.
Even so, lots of knitting is getting done, including a couple of gifts, and row upon row of my EPS sweater. I want to get that done before I really really start on any other sweaters.
That's about it!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Bag Lady
The floral gathering sac was officially done as of last week. Seaming and weaving in the ends took the better part of two evenings (that danged intarsia!), and the lining took literally all of one day. I decided to go close to all-out on it. The only departure from the plan was to make the pockets simpler. I am happy with how it turned out. I'll try to get some diagrams and pix up, in case anyone out there could use them.
I will say that using interfacing for the bottom and strap really helped to stabilize the bag a bit, and I don't think it will stretch much, if at all.
Last weekend, I finished knitting the Noni Garden Party Bag. It was an easy and actually pretty fun knit. Because I had so many WIPs, it took a lot longer than it should have, but I did have a good time with it. I am a tad disappointed in the (mostly) finished product, though. Even though I knitted at gauge, I had the hardest time getting the thing to felt down to the finished measurements. I gave up at about an inch larger around, and an inch taller. The flowers didn't felt down to the tiny cuteness in the picture, either. Maybe I give up too easily but like I said. I am done.
My bag just isn't as cute as the pictured one. The colors (green bag with blue flowers) seem off, even though I used the yarn and shades recommended, and my mohair fuzzed, but doesn't have that lighter, kind of curly look that the model bag does.
I am going to do the assembly tonight, and then it is officially done: a little beadwork on the flowers, a simple lining (structure/stability not being much of an issue....) and the handle. I will probably like it more after all of that is done.
I will say that using interfacing for the bottom and strap really helped to stabilize the bag a bit, and I don't think it will stretch much, if at all.
Last weekend, I finished knitting the Noni Garden Party Bag. It was an easy and actually pretty fun knit. Because I had so many WIPs, it took a lot longer than it should have, but I did have a good time with it. I am a tad disappointed in the (mostly) finished product, though. Even though I knitted at gauge, I had the hardest time getting the thing to felt down to the finished measurements. I gave up at about an inch larger around, and an inch taller. The flowers didn't felt down to the tiny cuteness in the picture, either. Maybe I give up too easily but like I said. I am done.
My bag just isn't as cute as the pictured one. The colors (green bag with blue flowers) seem off, even though I used the yarn and shades recommended, and my mohair fuzzed, but doesn't have that lighter, kind of curly look that the model bag does.
I am going to do the assembly tonight, and then it is officially done: a little beadwork on the flowers, a simple lining (structure/stability not being much of an issue....) and the handle. I will probably like it more after all of that is done.
Monday, January 08, 2007
The Non-Finish Line
Because you can't really call it finished until... you know... it is finished. I am done knitting the Floral Gathering Sac. I grafted (!!) the strap and did the slip stitch crochet bit and left the rest to post-blocking. The pattern didn't say to block, and maybe Pam Allen's didn't need blocking, but mine sure did. After pinning it gently to a towel on the floor late Saturday night, I became conflicted:
Did I want it to dry fast so I could weave in the ends and sew up? And then do the lining, inside pockets and whatever else I thought I might do? Or....
Did I want it to dry slow so I didn't have to face all that was left to do, and get in lots of knitting in the meantime?
It is cold here, so the thing is taking ages to dry. I even put it outside during the relatively warm afternoon, and in front of the heater in the evening (until Pepper laid down on it - the heater being her favorite feature of the apartment). With all of these efforts, it was still damp when I left this morning, which leads me to conclude that the Universe enjoys procrastination as much as I do.
In the meantime, I started some mitts to wear at the office when my hands get cold (in the same Rowan Kid Classic as my office poncho), got in a few rows of the Noni bag (I did indeed run out of yarn before the decreases at the bottom, but I have more on the way), SBT2, and the EPS sweater. Oh, and I swatched for the Central Park Hoodie in the Jo Sharp Silk Road Aran Tweed - got gauge on the first go with that one, too. It was a productive weekend.
In the realm of non-knitting productivity, I packed up the Christmas ornaments and decorations, and we took the tree out. We had planned to take it out pointy-end forward, but because of the way we picked it up, it ended up going butt-forward, thereby scattering the maximum possible number of needles per square foot. I actually didn't care about that until I started vacuuming.
We have a pretty expensive vacuum. Like most high-end things (human beings included), it can be quite sensitive. The thing practically choked on all the needles, and I had a temper tantrum (first one ever witnessed by DH) trying to undo the clog. I did get the bright idea to sweep up as many of the needles as I could, and then resumed vacuuming without further incident.
I've said it before, and I will say it again: this year, let's go away for Christmas.
Did I want it to dry fast so I could weave in the ends and sew up? And then do the lining, inside pockets and whatever else I thought I might do? Or....
Did I want it to dry slow so I didn't have to face all that was left to do, and get in lots of knitting in the meantime?
It is cold here, so the thing is taking ages to dry. I even put it outside during the relatively warm afternoon, and in front of the heater in the evening (until Pepper laid down on it - the heater being her favorite feature of the apartment). With all of these efforts, it was still damp when I left this morning, which leads me to conclude that the Universe enjoys procrastination as much as I do.
In the meantime, I started some mitts to wear at the office when my hands get cold (in the same Rowan Kid Classic as my office poncho), got in a few rows of the Noni bag (I did indeed run out of yarn before the decreases at the bottom, but I have more on the way), SBT2, and the EPS sweater. Oh, and I swatched for the Central Park Hoodie in the Jo Sharp Silk Road Aran Tweed - got gauge on the first go with that one, too. It was a productive weekend.
In the realm of non-knitting productivity, I packed up the Christmas ornaments and decorations, and we took the tree out. We had planned to take it out pointy-end forward, but because of the way we picked it up, it ended up going butt-forward, thereby scattering the maximum possible number of needles per square foot. I actually didn't care about that until I started vacuuming.
We have a pretty expensive vacuum. Like most high-end things (human beings included), it can be quite sensitive. The thing practically choked on all the needles, and I had a temper tantrum (first one ever witnessed by DH) trying to undo the clog. I did get the bright idea to sweep up as many of the needles as I could, and then resumed vacuuming without further incident.
I've said it before, and I will say it again: this year, let's go away for Christmas.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Ga-hay-hay-auge!!!
Dude. I got gauge on the first try last night. I feel like the Sir Isaac Newton of knitting. It is for the Ivy wrap sweater from Knitty. I am using the Karabella Breeze I bought from the Knitters Anonymous de-stash to benefit TSF.
I am sensing a sweater binge coming on. I have to finish the Floral Gathering Sac this weekend, and then my sweaterthon will continue in earnest. I have the EPS sweater chugging along, now Ivy cast-on, plus sweaterly plans on the to-do list for 2007, including: Enid and Arwen from the Winter 2006 IK, Central Park Hoodie from KnitScene (in Jo Sharp Silkroad Aran Tweed, also from the KA de-stash), the hoodie from White Lies Designs, and I might toy with doing something out of the Winter VK after I have had a closer look at the issue. I like the white turtleneck from the Northern Lights section. It is pretty, and unique but still wear-able.
In other knitterly plans, I want to make bears for the Mother Bear Project this year. The bears are just adorable, and the pictures of the kids who got the bears (in the Winter IK) totally sold me on the idea. The kid holding his bear and giving a thumbs-up is a boy after my own heart.
I am sensing a sweater binge coming on. I have to finish the Floral Gathering Sac this weekend, and then my sweaterthon will continue in earnest. I have the EPS sweater chugging along, now Ivy cast-on, plus sweaterly plans on the to-do list for 2007, including: Enid and Arwen from the Winter 2006 IK, Central Park Hoodie from KnitScene (in Jo Sharp Silkroad Aran Tweed, also from the KA de-stash), the hoodie from White Lies Designs, and I might toy with doing something out of the Winter VK after I have had a closer look at the issue. I like the white turtleneck from the Northern Lights section. It is pretty, and unique but still wear-able.
In other knitterly plans, I want to make bears for the Mother Bear Project this year. The bears are just adorable, and the pictures of the kids who got the bears (in the Winter IK) totally sold me on the idea. The kid holding his bear and giving a thumbs-up is a boy after my own heart.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Getting 2007 Off to a Proper Start....
What did I do on New Year's Day? I knitted. I knitted like crazy. Like it was going out of style. Like my stash was on fire.
What did I work on? The Floral Gathering Sac, which is so close to being done, I can taste it!
How many more cliches am I going to use? None. Sorry about that.
When I picked up the FGS again, after much time had passed, I was maybe 1/3 the way up the body. I am now at the base of the strap. I should be able to finish it this weekend. Colorwork, even with the attendant juggling and fussing with yarn, seems to go by really fast.
I am delighted with the bag and cannot wait to use it. It is my style exactly, which is to say, boho fabulous. I am a touch worried that the fabric is uneven, but this should smooth out in the blocking. In an unprecedented step, I even washed my swatch to test for colorfastness. I wouldn't ordinarily do this, but hand-dyed yarn plus intarsia suggested a need for caution. The darker yarn bled the teensiest amount in mega-hot water, so the bag should be fine in cool water.
Being an erstwhile seamstress of considerable accomplishment, I am tempted to go all-out on the lining: interfacing, pockets, the whole shebang. I tend to bottle out on these sorts of big plans, but I think it would be very practical for a bag that is intended to carry a lot of stuff. We'll see.
What did I work on? The Floral Gathering Sac, which is so close to being done, I can taste it!
How many more cliches am I going to use? None. Sorry about that.
When I picked up the FGS again, after much time had passed, I was maybe 1/3 the way up the body. I am now at the base of the strap. I should be able to finish it this weekend. Colorwork, even with the attendant juggling and fussing with yarn, seems to go by really fast.
I am delighted with the bag and cannot wait to use it. It is my style exactly, which is to say, boho fabulous. I am a touch worried that the fabric is uneven, but this should smooth out in the blocking. In an unprecedented step, I even washed my swatch to test for colorfastness. I wouldn't ordinarily do this, but hand-dyed yarn plus intarsia suggested a need for caution. The darker yarn bled the teensiest amount in mega-hot water, so the bag should be fine in cool water.
Being an erstwhile seamstress of considerable accomplishment, I am tempted to go all-out on the lining: interfacing, pockets, the whole shebang. I tend to bottle out on these sorts of big plans, but I think it would be very practical for a bag that is intended to carry a lot of stuff. We'll see.
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