Introducing…
…my LSP Wendy, who has unmasked herself to me at last, with one final, characteristically stunning package!
Not a great image, as you can see, and it doesn’t show you the glorious colours of the yarn — but there’s no doing anything about the four sorry hours of tepid daylight we get at this time of year here…
In any case, that’s a beautiful crocheted and felted bag in Kureyon 40 (which you can see here in its full completed glory, and by real daylight); a cotton tank pattern; a mini sock blocker, with pattern (I’m intending to use some Koigu left over from my mother’s shawl); Carole Wulster’s customisable sock pattern book (which may finally teach me to kitchener, since I can actually understand her instructions!); two Dr Seuss-esque books (for G.); the winter 2006 Interweave Knits; some teacup notelets; a photoframe and bookmark; a Burt’s Bees hand and foot set; and four skeins/balls of stunning, co-ordinated, jewel-toned yarn — some Manos (my first, and not my last), two skeins of sari silk, and some Kujaku.
Wendy, you’re amazing, and I’m overwhelmed. Another super-generous package chosen with your hallmark intuitive craftiness: dinosaur books may just be a good guess for a three year old boy (he loves them), but how did you know he also has a thing about identifying types of trees? And the Burt’s Bees package is superbly timed: I cast on for Seraphim this week, and my winter-roughened hands are snagging horribly on the alpaca-silk yarn I’m using… Thank you, thank you, thank you.
On with the show
Thank you to everyone who read my post about G.’s assessment and did not immediately write in to comment that I sounded either horrendously pushy (counting in six languages indeed!), hopelessly defensive, or just barking mad. With the benefit of a little distance, I can see I might have (ahem) over-reacted somewhat to the parent-teacher interview, going into Full Panic Mode (one of my most familiar modalities) at the mere suggestion that investigation might be warranted. It’s a funny thing, being a mother, and I now understand all sorts of odd parental behaviour that mystified me in the past — such as the tendency to talk at endless, boring length about one’s child. And how We Think You Should Get Him Tested can become There Is Something Terribly Wrong With Him in the time it takes to come out of a teacher’s mouth and reach my ear.
Anyway. As the title says, on with the show.
I recall mentioning in the same post that I had uploaded a bunch of photos for later blogging.
Swatch and yarn for a top-down raglan with cable rib for B., with the camera wobble I specialize in. The yarn is some natural-coloured aran/heavy worsted weight bought for me in New Zealand.
A selection of red, purple, gold and orange yarns for Annie Modesitt’s Cocoon Sweater (a.k.a. Twisted Float Shrug, or Twist, Float and Shrug, as my brain keeps proffering it).
Weft for a couple of blankets, from my stash. The yarn on the left is recycled from one of my mother’s UFOs. None of the ball bands have survived, but it’s brushed, with a high animal fibre content (wool and mohair, at a guess), and there’s about a pound of it. And it’s purple: very, very purple.
The yarn on the right is seventeen balls of Debbie Bliss Soho, shade 08, originally destined for a sweater until I swatched it and discovered that it virtually felts in the hand. Irritating in a sweater, but perfect for a blanket that will be fulled on completion anyway.
I don’t have anything suitable for a warp in my stash, so I’ll probably buy some Briggs and Little Regal (possibly the evocatively named Fundy Fog) that will do as a warp for both — well, it’s necessary to finish a project, right?
And finally, this:
The photo does the subtle, gorgeous colours no justice whatsoever. This is the one unjustified exception to my yarn diet, bought in a moment of weakness from its dyer on ebay in early December. No immediate plans: I post it here in the spirit of full disclosure, or confession.
And I’m almost finished the 23rd square of Lizard Ridge…
December’s sock yarn
From left, that’s Meilenweit Megaboot Stretch #711, the Lisa Souza Wild Things yarn gifted by my LSP, Trekking #101, more Megaboot Stretch (#709), Regia Banner colour #5450 (self-striping, for Jaywalkers) and, in front, some Fortissima Socka #2420 (now sadly and inexplicably discontinued).
This photo doesn’t do the Lisa Souza yarn any justice: it was gorgeous in the skein, but in the ball the subtle variations in the dark background colour show up much more clearly, and the turquoise and rust splashes really sizzle. And it’s soft. I can’t wait to start knitting it.
I almost can’t bear to start knitting the Fortissima Socka, though, since it’s unlikely I’ll ever find any more. I bought it a year or so back, and I just take it out from time to time to ogle the rich, subtle, tweedy colours and squeeze it. You know what I mean.
December is…
… going to be sock month, in the great stash diet. I’m heading out west for nearly four weeks over Christmas and New Year, to give my in-laws time with their grandson (and vice versa), so I need some small, portable, discrete projects I can pick up and put down between meals, visiting, card playing and more meals. I’ve wound the yarn into balls for two-at-a-time-on-one-enormous-circ socks, and I’m looking out a range of patterns to mix things up a little, and take advantage of the range of space dyed, variegated and self-striping yarns I have to work with. (And they’re so purty: photos to follow when I have some natural light to take them in.)
All of which has got me thinking about my technique. When I came back to knitting a couple of years ago, I was just happy to finish projects, but the more I knit, the more impatient I become with my own knitterly imperfections. My selvedges row in and out. My ribs aren’t pretty, with the last stitch of every knit repeat invariably ending up stretched out and uneven. And, despite growing experience, I don’t seem to be able to pick up my speed.
The speed issue anyone watching me knit could immediately troubleshoot. I have an ungainly version of English knitting I think of as unmodified eight-year-old, since I took to it when I first learned to knit and haven’t changed since. I hold the right hand needle about half way down, dropping it to make every stitch, and then picking it up again. Slow? Why, yes. My right hand (which is holding and wrapping the yarn, remember, English fashion) has to travel about half a mile with each stitch. It’s probably a good workout, but otherwise it’s the knitting equivalent of two finger typing. If I’m ever to rival Eunny Jang in the productivity stakes, it’s gotta go.
The rowing out, ugly rib problem I had no solutions for until a few days back, when — in a search for a sock pattern generator that would let me customize patterns for long, skinny, low-arched feet (a.k.a. rat feet or skis, and ubiquitous in my household) — I happened across an article on combination knitting, made famous by the knitting heretic herself, Annie Modesitt. Among its other virtues (speed, evenness, cures baldness), this style of knitting is apparently supposed to be helpful for those of us afflicted with a tension difference between knit and purl, the cause of rowing out and baggy ribs. The article had photos or rib swatches attached, and I have to admit the combination sample was far prettier.
So there we have it: I just have to completely change my knitting technique and all my problems will be solved. I am happy at the prospect of a solution to my technical imperfections, really I am, but the thought of retraining myself makes this not-so-coordinated knitter want to lie down in a dark room with a wet cloth on her head. Eventually — probably quite soon — the desire to make rib, knit-purl or cable patterns I won’t immediately frog in disgust will win out over my inherent conservatism. Watch this space.
Elsewhere: LSP, I have converted the gorgeous Kureyon you sent me into three more Lizard Ridge squares. The two #95 lemon, lime and raspberry squares give the colour scheme a much-needed kick in the pants, making all the deeper colours of the other squares glow. I tend to be a bit timid with colour, going for the safe (let’s not say boring) choice nine times out of ten, and I need my hand forced now and then to make me experiment. Thank you! I’ll post a photo when I can take one during daylight.
And, in the odd quiet moment, I’m spinning up some glorious Fleece Artist Blue Faced Leicester roving. The colourway (sea greens and blues, and the softest of beiges) is beautiful, of course, but it’s the fibre I’m in love with: as soft as merino, but with enough crimp to make it simple for a novice like me to control. It really does deserve all the hype.
You’re the top…
… you’re the smile/ on the Mona Lisa…Look at this hoard of loveliness, courtesy of my wonderful LSP. That’s a 2 pound bag of gourmet beans in the middle there, people, just in time for a week in sole charge of a three year old. (The beans are for me, not him. They’re medicine.) Nestling cozily around the beans are a skein of beautiful sock yarn hand-dyed by Lisa Souza, colourway Wild Thing, and three skeins of Kureyon (2 x 95, 1 x 147), immediately destined for Lizard Ridge. And around the outside, some delicious teas, a sampling from a great page-a-day knitting calendar, some yoga mints and lip gloss, a lovely ruler with pressed flowers on it, five beautiful glass bead stitch markers, a floral calendar, Zen and the Art of Knitting, a bonsai potato kit (subtitle: Zen without the wait!) and my very own “I’d rather be knitting” bumper sticker. Plus the Mona Lisa, with sticks and string. Wow!
LSP, you’ve outdone yourself. I completely see why you were nominated for Best Secret Pal. You’re also eerily perceptive, since you managed to include colours of Kureyon I’d been eyeing up for Lizard Ridge, my husband’s very favourite tea (Moroccan mint green) and mine (English breakfast), and a card with one of my favourite old roses (Centifolia), all without any blog-hinting from me. Thank you so much!
Stash diet
Call it guilt. Call it mindfulness. Call it the shock of recognizing you can no longer close the yarn cupboard door without leaning on it (and, what’s more, that your overflow yarn drawers are, well, overflowing). Call it what you will: I’ve decided I need to reduce my stash.
So I’m going to join Stashalong, on a month-by-month basis.
Priorities for the stash diet are going to be:
- UFOs. I’m bending the rules a little to permit yarn purchases necessary for finishing projects already underway, such as Lizard Ridge, for which I’ll need some more Kureyon and something else (probably Briggs and Little) to sew it up and crochet the edge.
- Clearing out stuff I will never voluntarily knit for myself or those I have to live with. In this category go an assortment of orphan balls in respectable fibres (mostly pure wool or mohair blends) which I inherited from somewhere or someone, and either don’t much like, or can’t imagine ever finding a use for. I’m thinking charity knitting: the Red Scarf project for those nice enough to be scarfworthy, and blankets for the rest. My son’s preschool, which occasionally solicits yarn donations, will be the beneficiary of anything too nasty for blankets.
- Yarn I have stashed for sweaters, to expedite the emptying of my stash cupboard.
- Yarn for shawls.
- Yarn for socks.
At my current rate of production, I will be on this diet until 2009.
I’ve seen the future, and it is…
… Glade, from Rowan 40. I’ve read posts raving about this pattern, but I wasn’t convinced until I saw it at the local needlearts fair last weekend. And it is beautiful: all subtly coloured stripy scallops that remind me of Florentine paper. Never mind that I’m already drowning in yarn. Never mind that it would cost an arm and a leg — although I was planning to substitute Madil Kid Seta for the specified and mystifyingly expensive Rowan KidSilk Haze, which would cut the cost somewhat.
Checking out Miriam Felton’s online shop recently, I happened upon a couple of her sock patterns I hadn’t seen before: Eleanora and Blessing. I love historical textiles, and anything reproducing them or inspired by them. I also love the book that Miriam quotes as her source for the images of the originals, Richard Rutt’s History of Handknitting. (I love it for itself and its subject, of course, but also because its author is/was (a) a man who was out as a knitter, and (b) in his non-knitting time, an Anglican bishop, which is interesting.)
As chance would have it, I used part of the same textile that inspired the Blessing sock as the design for some needlepoint (currently languishing in a drawer, awaiting both an alternate source for the yarn I began it with, and the patience to complete it. Mea culpa.) So I’m going to have to make the Blessing socks — and the Eleanora socks too, because I’m a big enough history nerd to think having socks styled after those worn postmortem by a woman who died of the plague in the sixteenth century is very cool. It’s Hallowe’en, people: creepy-r-us.
Actual knitting progress over the last day or so: Rosedale needing only collar, zip facing, a little grafting under the arms and a zip. Have begun another Lizard Ridge square in Kureyon 40. Languishing in bed with a cold is not without its benefits.
Gratuitous yarn shot
Originally uploaded by The Ravelled Sleeve.
A glimpse of my recent experiments with swift and ball winder. That’s the Alpaca with a Twist Fino in Ruby Slippers (doesn’t that sound like the name of a pedigree animal?) at top left, which I’m planning to use for Seraphim. Clockwise from there: some yummy recycled sari silk, two skeins of Koigu PPM, and the green and plum Hand Maiden sea silk. Plus some teeny squash for seasonally appropriate colour — well, it is Hallowe’en.
The swift and ball winder work very well, I’m happy to say — but it’s a serious business winding a couple of kilometres of lace yarn, even with mechanical help. Phew. I think I may have ballwinder’s elbow.
This post brought to you by the words “woo” and “hoo”
Because of our proximity to the north, Father Christmas (a.k.a. Santa or Père Noel, as you prefer) calls early here.
He arrived today with my swift and ball winder, which were considerately left for me at a booth at the local needle arts fair. I told B. I was off out to buy his Christmas and birthday presents for me, and abandoned him with our three year old, who is in the throes of a full-blown Freudian moment and will only be content with mummymummymummy, for several hours. Most men (heck, most people) would be delighted to have their spouse’s presents for the year solved at a single stroke, and would regard a couple of hours of being treated as less than pocket fluff by a disgruntled small person as a trivial price to pay. But B. is a little unusual: he loves present shopping, and since he’s already (quite justifiably) hurt at being given the cold shoulder by our son, I think he was a bit disappointed. He did cheer up, though, when I arrived home, visibly excited, with my lovely wooden umbrella swift and ball winder.
The craft show also enabled me to out together the last bits and pieces for my Secret pal spoilee. For obvious reasons, I won’t say what they are, but I was very pleased with them, and I hope she will be too.
Of course I didn’t make it out without a little something (or two little somethings, in this case) of my own: two luscious skeins of Hand Maiden Sea Silk, in variegated shades of plum and green, with enough yardage to make a scarf from each skein. One of them (the plum) is going to be a Christmas gift, provided I can talk myself into parting with it. I’d love to take a picture of them, but it’s so gloomy today there’s no hope of capturing the colours accurately.
And finally, on the woohoo! front, Jess left me a comment, which has reassured me that I am not generating all of the hits on this blog myself. Now, it is plain to me from her blog that Jess is lovely: she makes veils and quilts for her girlfriends when they get married, and a quilt for a fundraiser for a little boy in her neighbourhood… and she likes kelly green! (If she has a stash of green Emu superwash the size of Mars, we are clearly sisters under the skin.) In fact, she is so lovely that her boyfriend proposed to her in public, in front of the local media, which most men would rather drink battery acid than do. And she put me on her blog roll! Woo hoo!
Yarn-u-like
My LSP (Lovely Secret Pal, who may well be the only person reading this blog — feel free to contradict me in the comments) has quite reasonably asked me to get more specific on my likes and dislikes, yarnwise. I’ve been reluctant, since I was afraid it would sound like a wish-list — but, as a current Secret Pal to someone else with a newish blog, I’m beginning to understand how difficult it can be to get the measure of their tastes with little to go on. So, LSP,in no order whatsoever, here are a few of my favourite things, as a general guide to the kind of things I like, and knit:
Trekking XXL 105, 106, 107 and 110 (but all the 100-110 range are pretty nice).
Knit Picks Gloss, especially in Woodland Sage. This would make a beautiful shawl…
…such as Miriam Felton’s Seraphim. If I didn’t have several miles of ruby alpaca-silk waiting to make this, that is.
Knit Picks Alpaca Cloud in Iris, or Smoke, or Stream, or Tide Pool, or any of them, really.
Rowan Tapestry, although admittedly I’ve only seen this on the web…
… and while we’re talking about soy silk, there’s SWTC Karaoke in Bloom. Sometimes you just want some pink in your life. Oh, and some purple. I’ve been considering this for the Sunrise Circle Jacket — once I’m no longer drowning in superwash.
I’m a fool for self-patterning sock yarn like this or this. I particularly like the Meilenweit, Trekking and Online Supersocke ranges.
The archaeologist in me is desperate to knit something from Elsebeth Lavold’s Viking Knits collections. This, maybe, from the new book? Or this? They’re both in Silky Wool (which I want to like, but can’t), so I could use my recently acquired indigo superwash sport, which knits up to the same gauge. Perfect!
Koigu PPM. OK, it violates my bias against handpaints with short colour spacing (I’m a perfectionist, and I get driven crazy by colour pooling). But it’s so soft and stretchy, and so beautifully painted…
Lang Silk Dream. I have no idea what I would do with this, but yum. Same goes for any of the Knit Picks luxury yarns: Ambrosia, Elegance, Decadence. (Whoever worked up the Ambrosia colour card is my kind of gal.)
While we’re back at Knitpicks, I quite like this pattern and this one too (either of which requires a DK-ish weight yarn. Hey! I think I have some of that …)
Things I don’t like?
Bright yellow, mustard, orange, light brown, dark brown (unless it’s the colour it came off the sheep), khaki.
Anything with a camouflage print effect, in any colour.
Boucle, although there is some in my stash I’ve yet to find a home/project for.
Eyelash yarn.
Really big needles.
Does that help at all, LSP?
