Curmudgeonly Ruminations

I hate knitalongs.

As revealed in yesterday's post, I hate deadlines, I don't like things I'm told (or think) I "should" do, and when the two get rolled up together, I really get cranky. Maybe that's why I'm about a year behind in filing my medical insurance paperwork.

The last time I committed to a knitalong, my knitting group and I decided it would be a lot of fun to do one of the lace fichus in "Victorian Lace Today". Fun, fun, fun. Yippity-skippity, whoop-de-doo!

What in the HELL was I thinking?

As always, K., she of the engineer's mind and laser-like concentration, came back the first week with the thing practically finished. She explained the problems she'd run into reading the charts, and how she figured out how to work with them, and what to watch out for.

Meanwhile, M. and I had each made it partway through the ties (thin garter strips) and, each for reasons of our own, had ripped them out and started over.

The next week K. had finished hers and blocked it, and was wearing it. M. and I quietly put ours away to age like fine whisky. I'll have to check on mine, say, in 20 years. The best single malts are at least that old. Or maybe even 21 years. If I'm not in the senior home by then, crocheting granny squares and spending Saturday nights at Bingo. That fichu wouldn't be any good for me anyway. I'd just dribble my pablum on it.

I avoid mystery knitalongs. These are the ones where some stranger online -- sometimes from a yarn company, sometimes just a random torturer -- issues instructions for something section by section, which you are supposed to have the faith to knit without knowing whether you're making a lace stole, a Dr. Who scarf, or a cabled red carpet for the Oscars.

You sink many kopecks into buying the yarn, you get the (sometimes error-filled) instructions, and away you go. Of course you finish each section before the next set of instructions comes out, so you can lah-di-dah your way through the thing and get it done on time.

Or ball it up in the middle of section 2 and put it away somewhere dark, hopefully somewhere moths like to breed.

Did I mention I am short on faith? Especially when it comes to decrees issued by unknown online personages.

I prefer to do my knitting alone, in the dark seclusion of my home, so that if I decide I don't want to finish the project, or that I want to put it aside for a week or a lifetime, I am beholden to no one.

Yep, I'm a curmudgeon. Board-certified.

The year of Kauni Effektgarn and some musings on resolutions

I don't do New Year's resolutions. Why would I do that, when any resolution I'd make would be doomed to fail?

Think about it: What types of things do people make resolutions about? Typically, eating less, exercising more, quitting smoking, quitting drinking, giving up sugar, saving money -- in short, removing all pleasure from life. And knitters often make incomprehensible (to me) resolutions about de-stashing, not buying more yarn, not buying more sock yarn, not buying any more [insert favorite color here] yarn ...

All I can say is I'm going to hell in a handbasket, and enjoying every bit of the ride. I'm gonna go in a blaze of glory, but at least when I do, my stash won't melt, because I don't buy acrylic.

I do, however, occasionally think, in a noncommital way, about the fact that yarn makes up a sizable part of my "budget" --  I call it that, just for fun -- and an even more sizable part of my possessions. And I occasionally think that, if I were a person who believed in "shoulds" and "shouldn'ts", I probably shouldn't be spending as much money on yarn as I do.

Oh well, screw that.

My coworker and friend E. did a "year of the sock" last year, during which she made 12 pairs of socks in 12 months. This year, she's doing the "year of the hat", and has already produced several really smashing hats. [I encourage you to follow her at paleopurls.blogspot.com.]  I admire her perseverance and accomplishment, but that whole type of project is way too close to all things I fear: deadlines, shoulds, and lack of variety. (And variety IS the cheese of life, doncha know. More about that another time.)

However, I've decided to do The Year of Kauni Effektgarn. It encompasses everything I like, and nothing I don't. First, I've lost my heart, and most of my money, to the beautiful, delicious Kauni Effektgarn. It's 100% wool, rich with lanolin, and it shades from one beautiful color to the next in at least 20 colorways.

Second, this Year doesn't involve any shoulds or deadlines. I don't really care if I make 12 things in 12 months with Kauni. But I've already made 3 major things out of it this year: A large Spiral Nebula shawl*, and two (count 'em) Maude Vests from the Simply Shetland 2 book, the first according to the pattern and the second enlarged somewhat for a better fit. I figure I've been more-or-less continuously knitting with the stuff all year so far, so I might as well continue. Especially since I have enough stashed to make both a cardigan and a project-to-be-determined.

Watch this space for further adventures with Kauni, and, of course, pictures. When I get around to it, that is. (No resolutions on that.)

*I knit the Spiral Nebula while my mom was in the hospital for two months, and I've decided it soaked up too much bad juju during that time and must be frogged. Not to mention, It's a big shawl, and it's done in the rainbow colorway. I started picturing myself as Rainbow Bright at age 56, looking like hell but really BIG and BRIGHT. I'm going to repurpose the yarn and incorporate it into the collar of the cardigan, and make a few scarves with the rest.

Stay tuned.