Good Intentions vs. The Plague
Despite all my good intentions, I haven't blogged for a while. I have had The Plague for over three weeks -- don't ask. But I think I am finally getting better.
My camera is still dead (as is Generalissimo Francisco Franco), so still no pictures. They would be a sorry sight if I had any.
Sock Surgery
Maybe it was starting the sock when I was coming down with The Plague. Or maybe it was sheer air-headedness. At any rate, I knit a whole toe-up sock with the exception of the Afterthought Heel I was going to put in, and found it was too small. I swear, I tried it on multiple times as I was knitting it, and I thought it was firm, but not tight. (Something I wish I was.) Well, it was tight. I could just barely get the ribbing over my instep.
No problem, I thought. I'll just undo the cast-off and redo it more loosely. I did this, with a bigger needle. Still too tight. So I pulled it out once again, and, with a much bigger needle, knit another inch on the leg of the sock, finishing off with a looooooose bindoff. It still only barely made it over my instep.
Still no problem, I thought. I'll put in the heel, then see how everything fits. I did this, and the sock was very tight over my instep (I have high insteps, but I usually don't have a problem with this style sock).
Still no problem, I thought, smiling hopefully through gritted teeth. I carefully snipped one thread in the instep (a la Elizabeth Zimmerman's Afterthought Pocket method -- check it out, it's cool) and unraveled it almost all the way across the instep in both directions. I'll just put in an instep gusset, I thought with uncharacteristic optimism.
Well, maybe it was the fact that I was into the full-blown Plague by this point, or maybe it was that I'd already been working on the sock all day, or maybe it was simply not thinking it through well enough. But the instep gusset looked more like an instep growth. I tried it both with short rows and with increases, but it still looked like a tree fungus.
Fine, I thought. I'll steek the sock up the front. What have I got to lose at this point? This is where I should have stepped away from the knitting. Surely I was fevered at this point because I really do know better; when you do a steek, you have to secure the edges in some way, e.g., with a facing. (Not, I think, Fray Check). Once I'd made the fatal cut, I realized my error almost immediately.
OK, I thought, I will just cut off the foot of the sock below the heel and re-knit it on a bigger needle. This would have worked, except that after a few rows (having cut off the foot) I realized I was sick of the yarn, sick of the sock, that I hated it and never wanted to see it again, much less wear it. Most certainly, I would never knit the second sock. So, into the trash it went and good riddance too. (See my previous post for discussion of same.)
After the sock incident, I swore off knitting for a few days while I took to the couch with blankets and tissues. Then, yesterday, my confidence back, I thought I would finish a bolero I'd been knitting for my favorite five-year-old. I'd started it in the fall, and figured I'd better finish it while it was still the season to wear it.
I'd left off when I ran out of yarn from the previous ball, so I picked up the new ball and picked up the armhole stitches, then knit about two inches on the sleeve. And realized the new ball of yarn was a different color than the rest of the sweater. Not just a different dye lot -- a different color. The sweater is a heathered brown. The last ball was a solid chocolate.
Being a calm person, I decided instead to work on a spring bolero for the same child. She'd been asking, just that morning, when I was going to finish it. I quickly located the project, but the pattern was nowhere to be found. I flung some yarn tubs about looking for it, and succeeded only in tiring myself out and hurting my back.
No problem, I thought. (Do you detect a pattern here?) I will just start the Schaefer Victorian Baby Jacket that I need to make in preparation for a class I'll be teaching. I cast on 188 stitches in Anne (a fine fingering weight made by Schaefer) on size 3 needles. The first two rows went swimmingly, since they were stockinette. The third row, the beginning of the lace pattern, did not go well. I ended up with two extra stitches, despite handfuls of markers and careful attention to the pattern. I tried to identify my mistake, something I'm normally quite good at (especially with simple lace patterns like this one), and couldn't find it.
No problem, I thought. I will just tink back and surely I'll find the problem. I did not find the problem, but I succeeded in dropping a few stitches while undoing the Slip 1, K2tog, PSSOs. These dropped stitches went all the way down to the cast-on.
I ripped everything off the needles, broke off the used yarn (this same section of yarn had been used for a previous project I'd abandoned because I didn't like how the lace looked in the particular colorway, and it was looking pretty tired.) I was pretty tired myself and took to the couch with blankets and tissues.
Moral of the story: If you knit when you're sick, and it starts going all pear-shaped on you, stop. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Lie down and watch reruns of I Love Lucy.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Monday, January 7, 2008
Catching up / New Year's advice
The holidays were great, but I'm happy to be on the other side of them. I've had enough cookies, candies, rich meals, and other gastronomic overages to last me for another year. (And I have the enhanced waistline to prove it.) I wish there were such a thing as aerobic knitting.
My camera has died after a long illness. It is survived by me, dozens of special friends, and a bunch of pictures. While I am waiting until I can get a new camera, you will have to use your imagination to envision the projects I describe. Besides, they were mostly boring lately:
I knit a bunch of things over the holidays, but most of them were hats, scarves, and the like that I gave as gifts. I knit several more two-color brioche scarves. (They're good enough, they're smart enough, and doggone it, people like them.) I knit another moebius for my mother. I finally put the fringe on a scarf I'd knitted for my sister last year.
The only thing I completed that was slightly interesting was the "Caplet", as my sister dubbed it. The Caplet is my own take on the Dubbelmossa hat, the two-layer hat that is essentially one hat inside the other, with the hats being joined at the brim edge. When it is opened up, with the top of one hat at one end and the top of the other hat at the opposite end, and the line of demarcation in the middle, it looks like a giant Tylenol capsule.
I made the Caplet by starting with a provisional cast-on (I used the knit-up-stitches-in-a-crochet-chain method), then I knit the first hat normally. Then I took out the provisional cast-on, picked up those stitches, and knit the other hat identically. I experimented with a YO, K1 turning row at the border between the two hats, hoping to get a picot edge, but the yarn I used (Cascade's DiVe Autumno) was too thick to show the picot. Next time, I'll do a purl row for a turning row. I was concerned about finishing off the top of the second hat, as at that point I didn't have access to the wrong side to weave in the ends, but I was able to take the yarn tail around in several circles at the top and it looks just fine.
Knitting advice for 2008: Be Fearless!
I meet a lot of people in classes and help sessions, and I have never met anyone who can't knit. I have met a lot of people who think they can't knit, or think they can't understand a pattern, or think they can't master a certain technique.
We are often afraid to try something because we think we might fail. I've avoided lots of things for this reason. And it's true, you might fail. Or you might find you don't like it. Or you might find you can do it, but prefer not to. Or that it's too much work. But it's rarely the case that you can't do it.
And anyway, it's just yarn, right? It's just knitting. No lives are at stake. If you feel severely displeased with something you've worked on, you can unravel it, hide it in a closet, give it away, or -- gasp -- throw it in the trash. I have trashed several projects, including an Aran sweater that was 3/4 finished. But by the time I was to that point, I realized the yarn I'd chosen wasn't very high quality (I hadn't been knitting very long, and didn't know much about choosing yarn), and the gauge was way off, to the point that the sweater would have been suitable for a man over 6'5" tall with very big shoulders. I kept it a few years while I was mourning, then I popped it in the dumpster. I learned a lot from that project, and I'm not sorry I spent time on it. The next Aran sweater I made was very lovely and I wear it all the time.
What's the worst that can happen? You can spend (I don't like to say "waste") some time and money that don't result in a piece that you can use for the intended purpose. But if you enjoy knitting, time spent knitting can't be considered to be wasted. And money, well ... if we were in this to save money, we wouldn't do it. (And it's better than buying pulltabs). And you almost always learn from every project, even if all you learn was that you chose an inappropriate yarn and didn't check your gauge well enough.
Be creative with your unexpected results (I don't like to say "failures"). If what you've knit is feltable, felt it, cut it into pieces, and make something out of it -- felt flowers, a cell phone holder, a purse, a haggis* caddy, or whatever fun or outrageous thing you can imagine.
Use it as a test swatch to try out new techniques. Make it into a doll blanket. Or call it art and hang it on the wall. Give it to the Goodwill if it's wearable. Give the yarn to the Goodwill if it's not. You get the idea.
Why not make 2008 the year you become a Fearless Knitter?
*Haggis is the traditional Scottish dish composed of such things as lamb parts** and barley, and cooked in a sheep's bladder. These days they use the better parts of the lamb and cook it in something more appealing, and it's delicious. But historically it was a way to use up all the bits and pieces of a sheep so they didn't go to waste, and the family didn't starve.
** Lips, innards*** and other unmentionables.
*** I would bet this is the only knitting blog that has ever mentioned lips and innards.
My camera has died after a long illness. It is survived by me, dozens of special friends, and a bunch of pictures. While I am waiting until I can get a new camera, you will have to use your imagination to envision the projects I describe. Besides, they were mostly boring lately:
I knit a bunch of things over the holidays, but most of them were hats, scarves, and the like that I gave as gifts. I knit several more two-color brioche scarves. (They're good enough, they're smart enough, and doggone it, people like them.) I knit another moebius for my mother. I finally put the fringe on a scarf I'd knitted for my sister last year.
The only thing I completed that was slightly interesting was the "Caplet", as my sister dubbed it. The Caplet is my own take on the Dubbelmossa hat, the two-layer hat that is essentially one hat inside the other, with the hats being joined at the brim edge. When it is opened up, with the top of one hat at one end and the top of the other hat at the opposite end, and the line of demarcation in the middle, it looks like a giant Tylenol capsule.
I made the Caplet by starting with a provisional cast-on (I used the knit-up-stitches-in-a-crochet-chain method), then I knit the first hat normally. Then I took out the provisional cast-on, picked up those stitches, and knit the other hat identically. I experimented with a YO, K1 turning row at the border between the two hats, hoping to get a picot edge, but the yarn I used (Cascade's DiVe Autumno) was too thick to show the picot. Next time, I'll do a purl row for a turning row. I was concerned about finishing off the top of the second hat, as at that point I didn't have access to the wrong side to weave in the ends, but I was able to take the yarn tail around in several circles at the top and it looks just fine.
Knitting advice for 2008: Be Fearless!
I meet a lot of people in classes and help sessions, and I have never met anyone who can't knit. I have met a lot of people who think they can't knit, or think they can't understand a pattern, or think they can't master a certain technique.
We are often afraid to try something because we think we might fail. I've avoided lots of things for this reason. And it's true, you might fail. Or you might find you don't like it. Or you might find you can do it, but prefer not to. Or that it's too much work. But it's rarely the case that you can't do it.
And anyway, it's just yarn, right? It's just knitting. No lives are at stake. If you feel severely displeased with something you've worked on, you can unravel it, hide it in a closet, give it away, or -- gasp -- throw it in the trash. I have trashed several projects, including an Aran sweater that was 3/4 finished. But by the time I was to that point, I realized the yarn I'd chosen wasn't very high quality (I hadn't been knitting very long, and didn't know much about choosing yarn), and the gauge was way off, to the point that the sweater would have been suitable for a man over 6'5" tall with very big shoulders. I kept it a few years while I was mourning, then I popped it in the dumpster. I learned a lot from that project, and I'm not sorry I spent time on it. The next Aran sweater I made was very lovely and I wear it all the time.
What's the worst that can happen? You can spend (I don't like to say "waste") some time and money that don't result in a piece that you can use for the intended purpose. But if you enjoy knitting, time spent knitting can't be considered to be wasted. And money, well ... if we were in this to save money, we wouldn't do it. (And it's better than buying pulltabs). And you almost always learn from every project, even if all you learn was that you chose an inappropriate yarn and didn't check your gauge well enough.
Be creative with your unexpected results (I don't like to say "failures"). If what you've knit is feltable, felt it, cut it into pieces, and make something out of it -- felt flowers, a cell phone holder, a purse, a haggis* caddy, or whatever fun or outrageous thing you can imagine.
Use it as a test swatch to try out new techniques. Make it into a doll blanket. Or call it art and hang it on the wall. Give it to the Goodwill if it's wearable. Give the yarn to the Goodwill if it's not. You get the idea.
Why not make 2008 the year you become a Fearless Knitter?
*Haggis is the traditional Scottish dish composed of such things as lamb parts** and barley, and cooked in a sheep's bladder. These days they use the better parts of the lamb and cook it in something more appealing, and it's delicious. But historically it was a way to use up all the bits and pieces of a sheep so they didn't go to waste, and the family didn't starve.
** Lips, innards*** and other unmentionables.
*** I would bet this is the only knitting blog that has ever mentioned lips and innards.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
No new pictures, but more new projects
I have had a bad case of start-itis lately, which is why I haven't posted any new pictures -- I'm too busy swatching and getting new things on the needles.
I started another Sandra Stole, like the one Lewis is modeling below, in another beautiful Schaefer colorway. I can't help it; I love the yarn, the color, and the pattern. I got about 10" done before ...
I started a cardigan-in-one-piece that is based on an old Knitter's magazine pattern. The original pattern is by Medrith Glover, and it's called Circumnavigate a Cardigan. I had some juicy red stash yarn that seemed like it wanted to be a sweater. I'm thinking of making a couple of modifications to the design, though. The original is pretty boxy, and since I'm pretty boxy myself, I think I may throw in a little shaping at the sides to make it look as if I have a waist. I'm going to try some traveling stitches on the front to make mock-princess seams that go down to the pocket edges. And I don't particularly like ribbing at the bottoms of my sweaters, so I might do a hem at the bottom. The pattern is a v-neck, and I think I might also convert it to a hoodie with a zipper, so I'll have to leave out the v-shaping. All in all, it won't look much like the original (though it'll have most of the fun construction techniques). It may turn out to be ... interesting, as we Minnesotans like to say.
I'm also starting a lace scarf class [Fiber Trends Cocoon Lace Scarf/Wrap] at the store on Sunday, and a Shadow Shawl [by Maureen Mason-Jamieson] class on Tuesday. So I will be knitting along with my students on those projects as well.
And now, my favorite 5-year-old wants a hat that is pink and stripey on the outside, "indigoo" on the inside (OK, I guess I have to brush up on my double knitting), with a rainbow-colored pom pom. The things we do for the kids in our lives! This one will be (ahem) interesting as well. I hope she doesn't get teased on the playground!
I promise, pictures. Sometime...
I started another Sandra Stole, like the one Lewis is modeling below, in another beautiful Schaefer colorway. I can't help it; I love the yarn, the color, and the pattern. I got about 10" done before ...
I started a cardigan-in-one-piece that is based on an old Knitter's magazine pattern. The original pattern is by Medrith Glover, and it's called Circumnavigate a Cardigan. I had some juicy red stash yarn that seemed like it wanted to be a sweater. I'm thinking of making a couple of modifications to the design, though. The original is pretty boxy, and since I'm pretty boxy myself, I think I may throw in a little shaping at the sides to make it look as if I have a waist. I'm going to try some traveling stitches on the front to make mock-princess seams that go down to the pocket edges. And I don't particularly like ribbing at the bottoms of my sweaters, so I might do a hem at the bottom. The pattern is a v-neck, and I think I might also convert it to a hoodie with a zipper, so I'll have to leave out the v-shaping. All in all, it won't look much like the original (though it'll have most of the fun construction techniques). It may turn out to be ... interesting, as we Minnesotans like to say.
I'm also starting a lace scarf class [Fiber Trends Cocoon Lace Scarf/Wrap] at the store on Sunday, and a Shadow Shawl [by Maureen Mason-Jamieson] class on Tuesday. So I will be knitting along with my students on those projects as well.
And now, my favorite 5-year-old wants a hat that is pink and stripey on the outside, "indigoo" on the inside (OK, I guess I have to brush up on my double knitting), with a rainbow-colored pom pom. The things we do for the kids in our lives! This one will be (ahem) interesting as well. I hope she doesn't get teased on the playground!
I promise, pictures. Sometime...
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Tales of the Twisted Float Shrug; Freddie Krueger
Annie Modesitt's Twisted Float Shrug
Photos are coming ... sometime!
I have been a busy little knitter. (Well, OK, I'm big and middle-aged). Besides finishing a couple of two-color Brioche scarves for charity, half a Brioche (so far) for a friend, and another rainbow-hued one for my favorite 5-year-old, I made progress on a Smooshy sock (the second of a pair I started as a class example) and knit a 12-inch "pizza pie" three times.
So what's a knitted pizza pie, and why did I do it thrice?
I took Annie Modesitt's Twisted Float Shrug class at the shop this past weekend, and had a great time. I like her encouraging approach, and I learned a lot of little tips and techniques along with learning how to measure for and construct the shrug. Alas, however, the contrast color I originally chose wasn't looking as nice as I'd hoped, so after I'd knit a piece about 12" in diameter, (the shrug is a big circle with sleeves) I decided to change the contrast color. (The main color is a gorgeous teal/yellow green/smoky blue variegated in Cherry Tree Hill's worsted; my original contrast was a dark orange tone-on-tone in Araucania Nature Wool worsted. But the orange was too similar in value to the main color, as my boss lady helpfully pointed out, so it looked flat. Well, OK, it IS flat, in dimension that is, but the color is supposed to have more depth! So a coworker helped me audition other contrast colors and we came up with a rich chocolate brown in Cascade 220. It's stunning, if I do say so myself. And thanks, Ms. Coworker; you know who you are.)
I'm going to do the border in Cherry Tree Hill's Baby Loop boucle in the Java colorway. It should pick up the smoky blue and the chocolate tones nicely. I may have to bulk it up with some Kid Seta fingering mohair, or double the Baby Loop, as it's only a sport weight, and worsted is called for.
Having knit the initial teal et. al. /orange pizza, I started over with the teal/chocolate. I love the way the colors are working with each other. But I was not at all happy with the way I'd been carrying the chocolate yarn up through the 4 rounds of main color. So, once again, the pizza was frogged down to a demitasse-sized coaster, and I started again, cutting and weaving in the contrast strands so I don't have to carry the brown up through the blue. Now it looks like I wanted it to. And it really only took a couple hours to knit each pizza. I'm so glad I started over and got it right. (Photos coming sometime!)
P.S.: See if you can find "Superbunny" at the store, wearing my class swatch in teal and orange.
Freddie Krueger
A friend of mine has been knitting -- and knitting, and knitting -- an intarsia baby sweater. The intarsia is disagreeing with her, much like a liverwurst full of e. coli. Intarsia disagrees with me, too, and I with it. I know I can do it, I just don't care to do it, in the same way that I know I could make fancy cookies like Martha Stewart's, but ... who cares? If I don't enjoy it, why do it? I'm going to leave Martha's title as cookie diva unchallenged, and the intarsia divas can have their beautiful, repellent craft to themselves, too.
Anyway, the particular sweater design my friend is knitting is called "Freddie". It's a very cute sweater, a pullover with a star (or is it a snowflake?) on the front. She has picked up the project and put it down several times, and, as mentioned, is not enjoying it now that she is at the intarsia portion. She even lost the sweater for over a year, I think in the instinct of self-preservation. I think we identified the base problem when it came to me that the sweater is called Freddie ... it must be Freddie Krueger!
My friend called yesterday and said that Freddie Krueger is dead. She has decided to do the sweater plain, without the accursed star/snowflake. I admire her for this; I'm sure it was tempting to do as another friend of mine once did, and burn the offending item in a ceremonial fire while doing a sprightly dance.
So, Freddie is gone. I guess we'll have to rename the sweater. How about Clive? I don't know of any evil "Clive"s, do you?
Photos are coming ... sometime!
I have been a busy little knitter. (Well, OK, I'm big and middle-aged). Besides finishing a couple of two-color Brioche scarves for charity, half a Brioche (so far) for a friend, and another rainbow-hued one for my favorite 5-year-old, I made progress on a Smooshy sock (the second of a pair I started as a class example) and knit a 12-inch "pizza pie" three times.
So what's a knitted pizza pie, and why did I do it thrice?
I took Annie Modesitt's Twisted Float Shrug class at the shop this past weekend, and had a great time. I like her encouraging approach, and I learned a lot of little tips and techniques along with learning how to measure for and construct the shrug. Alas, however, the contrast color I originally chose wasn't looking as nice as I'd hoped, so after I'd knit a piece about 12" in diameter, (the shrug is a big circle with sleeves) I decided to change the contrast color. (The main color is a gorgeous teal/yellow green/smoky blue variegated in Cherry Tree Hill's worsted; my original contrast was a dark orange tone-on-tone in Araucania Nature Wool worsted. But the orange was too similar in value to the main color, as my boss lady helpfully pointed out, so it looked flat. Well, OK, it IS flat, in dimension that is, but the color is supposed to have more depth! So a coworker helped me audition other contrast colors and we came up with a rich chocolate brown in Cascade 220. It's stunning, if I do say so myself. And thanks, Ms. Coworker; you know who you are.)
I'm going to do the border in Cherry Tree Hill's Baby Loop boucle in the Java colorway. It should pick up the smoky blue and the chocolate tones nicely. I may have to bulk it up with some Kid Seta fingering mohair, or double the Baby Loop, as it's only a sport weight, and worsted is called for.
Having knit the initial teal et. al. /orange pizza, I started over with the teal/chocolate. I love the way the colors are working with each other. But I was not at all happy with the way I'd been carrying the chocolate yarn up through the 4 rounds of main color. So, once again, the pizza was frogged down to a demitasse-sized coaster, and I started again, cutting and weaving in the contrast strands so I don't have to carry the brown up through the blue. Now it looks like I wanted it to. And it really only took a couple hours to knit each pizza. I'm so glad I started over and got it right. (Photos coming sometime!)
P.S.: See if you can find "Superbunny" at the store, wearing my class swatch in teal and orange.
Freddie Krueger
A friend of mine has been knitting -- and knitting, and knitting -- an intarsia baby sweater. The intarsia is disagreeing with her, much like a liverwurst full of e. coli. Intarsia disagrees with me, too, and I with it. I know I can do it, I just don't care to do it, in the same way that I know I could make fancy cookies like Martha Stewart's, but ... who cares? If I don't enjoy it, why do it? I'm going to leave Martha's title as cookie diva unchallenged, and the intarsia divas can have their beautiful, repellent craft to themselves, too.
Anyway, the particular sweater design my friend is knitting is called "Freddie". It's a very cute sweater, a pullover with a star (or is it a snowflake?) on the front. She has picked up the project and put it down several times, and, as mentioned, is not enjoying it now that she is at the intarsia portion. She even lost the sweater for over a year, I think in the instinct of self-preservation. I think we identified the base problem when it came to me that the sweater is called Freddie ... it must be Freddie Krueger!
My friend called yesterday and said that Freddie Krueger is dead. She has decided to do the sweater plain, without the accursed star/snowflake. I admire her for this; I'm sure it was tempting to do as another friend of mine once did, and burn the offending item in a ceremonial fire while doing a sprightly dance.
So, Freddie is gone. I guess we'll have to rename the sweater. How about Clive? I don't know of any evil "Clive"s, do you?
Sunday, October 28, 2007
A Few Comments
Just a few comments on the pictures below: Lewis is modeling the Sandra Stole in Schaefer Yarns' Sandra in the Margaret Mead colorway. And the flower garden is modeling one of the non-edible Brioche scarves I am making for the charity event. I thought the scarf would look good against the last of the zinnias, so I tossed it over the shrubbery ... forgetting that the "shrub" is a rosebush. It took me a while to get that scarf out of the talons of the rosebush. It almost did get "eaten" after all. I'm halfway through the second charity Brioche and am getting bored with the pattern, so I think my remaining items for this function will need to be something different.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
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