Miscellany

Having said that I hate knitalongs, especially mystery knitalongs, I bought the pattern for Stephen West's recent mystery knitalong. But I had heard from friends that, since it involves 3 yarns in 3 different colors, it was difficult to know which yarn to start with. So I'm going to look at completed ones on Ravelry, see if I like the pattern and try to understand how the colors should best be arranged. And if I don't like it, I won't make it. I'm making use of my underlying talent for procrastination to eliminate the mystery element.

I haven't been knitting much. I've been busy with lots of other things, like going to the Minnesota State Fair. Aside from CHEESE CURDS, Pronto Pups, and the new sweet corn ice cream, my favorite thing is the knitting display in the Creative Activities building. Emily Tremain's fair isle Doublemassa hat in Kauni Effektgarn is stunning, and, gratifyingly, it was prominently displayed instead of hidden under layers of other items. Katie Smith's beautiful sweater made of Opal sock yarn was also prominently displayed. Both won ribbons.

There were also quite a few lace scarves, stoles, and shawls, few of which were displayed so that you could see much of them. I realize there is limited display space, but some of these items looked very nice from what you could see of them.

Susan Rainey's circular tablecloth, done in what looked like fine crochet cotton, was gorgeous. It was impeccably knit, and impeccably blocked.

I am not a fair-enterer. While I'm vain about some of my talents and abilities, and somewhat proud of my knitting, I don't feel a need to be validated by winning a ribbon in the fair. Or maybe I'm just lazy.

It's been quite zippy on the home front, with a visiting sister, her two dogs (one is a 5-month-old puppy) and three cats. And I have a dog. They form a loose sort of Dog Chorus with hissing and growling for percussion.

Soon after the puppy, a blue merle smooth collie, arrived, I saw her thrashing something around on the floor. Since she had at least five toys strewn over the floor, I didn't think much of it at first. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dash of rich red. I wonder where she got that small red blanket, I thought. Hmmm. We don't have a small red blanket. Ummmm ... OH NO! NOT THE SCHAEFER! Let's just say Nancy is now possibly just Nan. I'm calling the puppy Vinegar Breath now.

By choice, I'm lying low for the Labor Day holiday. I'll need a vacation after my sister's vacation.

I'll be teaching Beginning Socks and Reversible Cable Cowl classes at Borealis Yarns in September and October. Check www.borealisyarn.com for more details.

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.

Increasing

What in the Sam Hill are some of these knitwear designers thinking?

It's well known that Americans are getting bigger and bigger. I have to admit that I'm a proud American, and as such, I am following the national trend.

I'm dimly aware that there are some people out there who wear an S or even an XS. It's a curiosity to me. I was 5'8" in 8th grade, and attained 5'10" + before I started shrinking vertically a few years ago. I've had size 10 shoes since junior high. The rest of my body is, ahem, proportional. And getting more "proportional" all the time, thanks to time, settling of contents, and chocolate.

I recently bought a copy of Brave New Knits, in which there is a pattern for a pretty sweater called Silke Jacket, designed by Shannon Okey for knitgrrl.com. I'm sure Ms. Okey is a lovely person with good intentions, but the jacket comes in four sizes: S, M. L, and 1X. So far, so good. I usually wear a 1X when I buy sweaters or tops.

But the 1X has a 38" bust circumference. I'm sorry, Shannon, that is not a 1X. Maybe a 1-boob, but not a 1X.

At work today a few of us were looking at the book Knit Jackets by Cheryl Oberle. To paraphrase my coworker E., everything in the book is very knittable and wearable. Well, maybe wearable by some. But I think the largest women's jacket I spotted was 46". Now, that's a fairly generous size, but it would still be too small for me. And no, I don't weigh 300 pounds. No, I don't weigh 250. (And NO, I don't weigh 400!)

Can I help it that I'm a woman of substance with substantial boobage? Well, OK, I can help it to a certain extent, such as maybe eating less ice cream (a.k.a. Food of the Gods), but I also have large bones. I swear it.

I'm not naive; I realize that designing unique, interesting knitted garments is a challenge. And I realize that, geometrically speaking, not every design is translatable into every size in 2" increments. But how about these suggestions, for starters:

1. Any book of knitwear designs, unless it is specifically for children or petites, should have at least 20% of the designs go up to 50".

2. Ditch the "S. M, L" labels for sizing. "Small" can mean anything from "fits my big toe" to "fits my big sister" (who is smaller than me). I know what 42 inches means, but "M" might as well designate "Mystery Size".

3. Always indicate how the garment should fit. Is it intended to be oversized, or should it have negative ease? A 50" finished circumference might be for a 42" circumference person or a 54" circumference person, or anything in between.

4. Show a photo of a realistic-size model wearing the garment. Include a fashion shot if you must, but also include a plain shot that shows detail of the garment and how it conforms to the body.

5. Include a schematic for every pattern. That way, if I can't quite see the details of the garment in the photo, I can get an idea of how it's structured and what the measurements of each piece are.

6. Design more flattering stuff for us fat ladies. Those &*^%$#@** skinny beatches already have plenty of cute clothes.

No Knit Wit

This thing is not a sea creature, nor is it hyperbolic knitting. It's a ruffled silk and wool collar, which I made eons ago, and have never worn. Every time I encounter it in the bottom of a bin of yarn, I think, "I should wear that someday". Then it somehow goes back into the bin and never gets worn. Hm.

Since I have run out of knitting-related witticisms, I'm going to talk about one of my peeves, overused words and expressions.

1. "Devastated". I've been hearing this one a lot the past few days, since there have been a lot of tornadoes and other forms of severe weather. It's not that I doubt that the results are devastating, it's just that I expect people to be more lyrical in the midst of their, um ... devastation. How about "It wrecked our house and everything we own", "What will we do now?" or simply "Life sucks"?

2. "Icon", as in "James Brown was an icon for the African-American community". When Persons on the Street were interviewed on TV after James Brown died, about 90 percent of them said they were affected (or "devastated") because he had been such an "icon". But what does that mean, people?  Icons are symbols. So what was he a symbol of? Tell me or I will smite you.

3. "Snowmageddon" and "Snowpocalypse". These were funny the first time I heard them, but by the second day of the first snowstorm of 2010, they were about as hilarious as "Workin' hard, or hardly workin'?" I shall smite both your cheeks with a metal snow shovel if I ever hear these again.

4. "Awesome" (pronounced in Minnesota as 'ossum'). Do my new shoes really inspire awe? My haircut?  My recipe for baked beans? If so, you have a low awe threshold. And what happens when you encounter, say, the Second Coming (that is, the Apocalypse without the Snow) if you're already awed by baked beans?

5."Incredible". 'Incredible' means, literally, not believeable. "We went to this incredible new restaurant". Really? You didn't believe you were there, or you didn't believe it existed? If you didn't believe it existed, was your meal filling? Shall I smite you with this incredible wombat?

6. "Supposably". People. This is not a word. And still it gets overused.

Thanks. It's been awesome.

Of Great Blue Herons and Fish Skeletons

How can a fish skeleton be inspirational?

I saw this one on my morning dog walk, and immediately thought of knitted lace patterns I might design. Lewis immediately thought, "Yum!" Cruel mistress that I am, I didn't let him eat it.

Last year at this time, there were a lot of good-sized carp heads strewn about in the grass near the local pond where we walk. I never did figure out whether they were discarded by humans, raccoons, foxes, or something else, but every time we went out for a walk, I ended up with "fish heads, fish heads / jolly jolly fish heads / fish heads, fish heads, floating in my soup" circling in my brain.  (Or is is "roly-poly" fish heads?)

While we were walking, a Great Blue Heron swooped down about 20 feet from us, and let me take about 20 pictures before it flew further away. The photos I got were not stellar, but for what it's worth, I share one here.

Two days ago, a Peregrine Falcon swooped down into a yard as I was driving down Cretin Avenue in St. Paul, a busy two-lane urban street. The falcon missed whatever it was going after, but I got the best close-up look I've ever had of a Peregrine. And yesterday, I spotted a red-tailed hawk atop a freeway light pole. Our local pale hawk (identity as yet unknown, but probably a light-colored red-tail) has been frequenting its favorite utility pole at Lamplighter Park across the street, and I have had some spectacular close-up views as I walk under the pole.

I've yet to see any osprey, cormorants, goldfinches, or Eastern Bluebirds, but I trust with the warm weather I will see them soon. We've had a couple of good rains, which have brought the worms out onto the sidewalks, so the robins are feasting.

Welcome Spring, FINALLY, and Happy Easter!

An FO, plus My Precious Sock

Pictures, finally. Not good ones. The dreary Minnesota weather didn't cooperate for outdoor photos, so I had to put up with crummy lighting and unattractive backgrounds. If the sun comes out tomorrow, I'll do a retake.


The Maude Vest has been finished, blocked, and worn. I came, I knit, I conquered. When I told my coworker J., she replied, “have you cast on for the next one yet?” Dang, she knows me too well.


It’s a good thing I finished the vest yesterday, since today the knitting voodoo is upon me. Picked up the gusset stitches on my sock before I turned the heel; rookie mistake. Went to turn the heel, and ended up with a non-centered heel twice before remembering, (i.e., looking at the pattern) how to do it. While undoing my mistakes, dropped several stitches. After finally getting everything picked up again, put one of the gusset decreases in the wrong place.It’s great that I have a job where I can knit during my downtime.It wasn’t too busy today at work, but I believe I completed only two rounds on my sock. 


I feel like there’s some little fiend dogging me, someone who looks like Rumplestiltskin or Dobby, or worse, Gollum.Excuse me. I have to go buy a garlic wreath, some asafoetida (you can look it up) and a few wooden stakes for good measure.