The Faculty Meeting Knitter

Switching Gears for Nerd Wars

2011-10-03T07:58:00.000-07:00

YIKES!! Nerd Wars is upon us.

News bulletin: I have joined Team Rangers (i.e. the Babylon 5 contingent) for Tournament 3 of Nerd Wars on Ravelry, which will run from now until the end of the year with three rounds of one month each. NW is full of mischief and mayhem, with tons of chitchat on the Ravelry forums. Teams compete for points in six different categories (technical, team spirit, giving geeks, scientific, intellectual, and nerd culture), with a challenge tied to each category in each round. It's also possible to take on a larger project in one category over the whole length of the tournament. That's aptly called a dissertation and, if completed, is worth many points for the team. I have a lovely sweater in the works that will be a technical tour-de-force if I can pull it off. At any rate, the need to track all my various NW projects in real time lends a whole new urgency to the blogging process.

Yet a good deal of 'ketchup' still remains. Under these circumstances my valiant scheme to finish removing the backlog before pressing forward simply won't work. I need to switch gears and start blogging in two directions at once. So I will continue to hammer away at the retrospective checklist whenever time allows, but meanwhile I will also begin tracking the latest WIP's.

And so it begins...

Sic transit gloria mundi.

2011-08-15T14:52:00.000-07:00

[[ Dear Reader: I'm afraid everything around here is still smothered in ketchup. Please be patient, as we continue to dig our way out from under the backlog, and be sure to check the Table of Contents (left) to catch any ephemeral posts that you may have missed in all the hullabaloo. ]]

The next item on my "ketchup list" is the American Beauty shawl by BadCat Designs, which I managed to finish just in time to wear it to church on Easter Sunday. We had fun doing an outdoor photo-shoot in the April sunshine (see left).

But two days ago, when I brought out the shawl because I was getting ready to write about it, I had a nasty shock: the drawer where it was kept had been invaded by carpet beetles!! Thankfully, other hand-knit items in the vicinity seem to have been spared, and (before anyone asks) the Princess Shawl and WRS were both tucked away safely elsewhere, but American Beauty was badly damaged, perhaps even beyond repair. The little buggers seem to have a definite taste for fine merino, because they zeroed in on that one piece and basically left the others alone. So far as I know, the little wrist-warmers mentioned in this post from over year ago were the only other casualty.

As typically happens where insect larvae have feasted on a piece of wool, parts of the fabric simply fell apart in my hands (see right). It was hideously upsetting, of course, but I resisted the impulse to throw the whole thing away in despair. The shawl in its present form is probably too far gone, but I may be able to salvage the gorgeous fuchsia yarn for eventual reuse. I won't know for sure until I examine it more closely with dispassionate eyes. For now it's in a plastic bag in our spare freezer, along with the entire contents of the drawer where the infestation occurred. If cold does not actually kill the bugs, it should at least make them go dormant. Meanwhile I've ordered some pesticide strips that are designed for enclosed spaces, so the next step will be to seal all the infected items in a big plastic bin and let the chemical (DDVP) go to work. None of the other dresser drawers showed signs of insect activity, but as a precaution I sent EVERYTHING that I could through the laundry. Oh my, but *that* exercise is not for the faint of heart...

At any rate, because of what has happened, and in deference to the inevitable period of mourning, I am not going to dwell on the completion of this project anymore. That would feel distinctly morbid somehow (although Matthew 6:19 comes to mind, of course). But though the loss is undeniably a bitter one, in the last 48 hours my outlook has already shifted toward the positive, because I can see a shiny silver lining.

As much as I love the Rose Whisper with its wide range of color, done just by varying the saturation of a single dye, the dramatic shading turned out to be too intense and overpowering for the delicate lace of this particular design. At first there were just little flecks of the darker color, which I really liked. But then wider bands and blotches started to appear. It all blends together visually, but the larger rose motifs at the shoulders are mostly drowned out in the noise and confusion, which made me very sad, because they are truly magnificent (see left).

So at some point I think I would like to try knitting American Beauty again, but this time with more of a solid color. I have already done some preliminary yarn hunting over the Internet. For you know what they say: when the going gets tough, the tough GO SHOPPING!! Best therapy in the world, methinks, and it's free for now, as long as I don't actually buy anything. :-)

Eomer Shield Tam

2011-08-13T11:28:00.000-07:00

I was fortunate enough to participate in my first ever test-knit this spring: the Eomer Shield Tam by designer KYMaggie. It was a terrific experience!! Using several shades of KnitPicks Palette from my stash (mostly leftovers or unused colors from the Bunny Mittens), I got to indulge my love for Celtic scrollwork, not to mention The Lord of the Rings, and to put all my academic proofreading skills to good use in service of the fiber arts, especially to ensure that the line-by-line written instructions accurately mirrored the complex chart.

The design was based on an unused concept drawing for Eomer's shield from the LOTR movies. It is knitted seamlessly in-the-round, starting with a band of corrugated ribbing for the brim, followed by a colorwork panel running underneath the crown, and then the crown itself, worked inward toward the center.

I had great fun with this project, and enjoyed learning new techniques for combining stranded colorwork with cables. The colors kept weaving over and under each other, to create an intricate embossed texture reminiscent of fine metallurgy. There was marvelous attention to detail throughout. The one element that I found slightly tricky was the motif similar to a fleur-de-lis that appears at the four cardinal points where the brim meets the crown, but it came out beautifully by carefully following the detailed instructions. Past that point, it was incredibly smooth sailing to the end. For some reason the magic of blocking a tam on a dinner plate never seems to grow old for me. I love how this piece turned out, and it fits great.

Gingerbread House Knee Socks

2011-08-13T08:02:00.000-07:00

For my 2nd pair of post-tenure socks (begun in mid-March), I turned to KnitPicks Imagination, a cushy blend of 50% Merino Wool / 25% Superfine Alpaca / 25% Nylon, in the colorway called "Gingerbread House," which setssix different cheerful "gumdrop" colors (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple) against a background of warm ginger-brown. I really love this yarn for socks!! Which is good, because I have several more colors stashed away... It knits up into a wonderful fabric, soft and warm and snuggly against the skin. I wanted to see how far I could go on two skeins (= 438 yards) to fit my smallish (US size 61/2, European size 37) feet. So I used the Lace and Cable pattern from Wendy Johnson's Socks from the Toe Up, with one skein for each sock, and basically kept knitting until I ran out of yarn.

What I got, to my amazement and delight, was a splendid pair of honest-to-goodness KNEESOCKS. Once againI worked the two socks in tandem by switching off between two sets of dpn's: first both toes, then feet, then heels, then legs, then cuffs. To shape the calves, I measured the circumference of my lower leg at 2" intervals and calculated first increases and then decreases based on my gauge. And to help the socks stay up, I switched to smaller needles for 1" of ribbing at the top, and finished off with Jeny's Surprisingly Stretchy Bind-Off (JSSBO). They fit me perfectly and don't fall down with general use, although a brisk walk can cause them to sag a bit, but that happens with commercial wool knee socks too. I had less than a foot of yarn left over on either side. The colors pooled a bit here and there, but I don't mind the effect. In fact, I rather like it. As always, click on any one of these photos to view an enlargement.

Oh my, but to my mind these are genuinely *happy* socks, so bright and colorful and toasty warm, and they go beautifully with the tawny brown leather clogs that I wear pretty much constantly through 3 seasons of the year, in all but the most inclement weather.

Oak Grove mitts

2011-08-13T06:29:00.000-07:00

I grew up in a house surrounded by woods and adjacent to this CT state park. Many of the biggest trees there are mighty oaks, and so I have developed a fondness for oak leaves and acorns as decorative motifs, because they remind me of home.

That's what attracted me to Anna Dalvi's Oak Grove Mitts pattern, which features a beautifully embossed oak leaf, framed by a pointed arch, on the back of each hand. For this special project I treated myself to a single skein of Sanguine Gryphon Bugga! (70% superwash merino / 20% cashmere / 10% nylon) in a colorway called Arachne, which is basically an autumnal mix of deep red, russet, and brown. It was a quick knit on 2.5 mm (US size 1+) dpn's. At the tight gauge, and for my little hands, I used up only ~125 yards. These mitts fit snugly at the wrists, without impeding the movement of my fingers, which makes them ideally suited for riding in the car or sitting in a chilly house and knitting, reading, typing at the computer, or whatever. And the best part is that I still have enough Bugga! left over for a pair of socks. :-)

"You're not seriously going to wear that in public, are you?!"

2011-08-12T12:28:00.000-07:00

Some needlework projects are never-ending, not through any fault of their own, but due mostly to what Gilbert Murray famously called"the failure of nerve" (Five Stages of Greek Religion, c. 1925). I have repeatedly categorized my loving homage to Frejya, our female Maine Coon (a.k.a Big Orange Fluffy Thing or B.O.F.T., see left) as one such. The whole thing took four long years from start to finish. But during that interval I spent most of my time ostentatiously (though guiltily) NOT working on it. Progress came, when it did, in fits & starts, with long empty gaps in between, while I agonized over what to do next. All the actual knitting on this sweater went extremely fast. What worried me was the embroidery, having never attempted to embellish my knitting with decorative stitching before.

Since the pattern did not call for embroidery beyond some simple lines for whiskers and toes, by far the hardest part was figuring out how much, or indeed how little, I should add to the intarsia, which already incorporated texture as well as color, by contrast with the coal black Peruvian highlands wool used in the body of the sweater: brushed Suri alpaca (akin to mohair) in orange, brown, and ivory for the cat, cushy cotton chenille in turquoise for the blanket (or pillow?) that she is curled up on, and on the back ribbon yarn in bright orange for the goldfish scales, and a nubbly chunky wool in dark green for the aquatic plant.

My initial concepts for embellishing the sweater were full of creative inspiration but proved too grandiose, not to say fiddly, and in the end I scaled back quite a bit on the eyelash yarn simulating Frejya's long hair, gave only the barest of outlines to eyes, face, paws, and (on the back) goldfish, and did not attempt to apply whiskers, or (for that matter) fins. I decided to let the cat's whimsical features show through as much as possible. After much deliberation, I chose to omit the dangling tail as well, despite having knitted the intarsia base for it, on the grounds that (a) I could not easily weave in enough eyelash yarn to represent the magnificent plume of a Maine Coon adequately (the breed is described as "the tail with a cat on the end," after all, and see above left), and (b) a tapered appendage hanging down from the side-seam of a garment would present far too great a temptation to our real-life feisty felines, who might attack without warning and damage the sweater (to say nothing of injury to the hapless wearer!!). So my woolen Frejya remains tailless, and contentedly so, at least for now. I reserve the right to change my mind at some point in the future. But in the interest of verisimilitude I should point out that the real Frejya does like to curl up with her tail hidden away underneath her (see above right).

In terms of the actual sweater construction, I kept the turtleneck from the original pattern but converted the raglan sleeves to a set-in style, with straight armholes and a gentle short-row shoulder cap. With its generous outlines and soft fabric, it hangs on me more like a drop-shoulder sweater than anything terribly close-fitted, but the shaping works, and I am delighted with how the garment looks and feels. For all its personality and pizzazz — and yes, that's how I happen to view it, although one friend really did blurt out the question that appears in the heading to this blog post, which simply made me laugh in response — this is also a WARM winter woolly that will serve me well when thermostats are kept low to conserve fuel.

Eventually I will probably sew in a polyester lining, so as to protect the back of the intarsia from abrasion and my dark cotton turtlenecks from stray multi-colored fibers. I have even purchased the black fabric for this, but I have not gotten around to actually doing it yet, in part because I think I want to wear the sweater once or twice as is, before doing anything else to it. Totally typical, hein? Nonetheless, I have been calling this a finished object on Ravelry since March 6th, when I laid down my embroidery scissors and weaved in the last few loose ends, and so I present this photo gallery to mark its completion.

What you see here are wide views of the front and back, followed by close-ups of the neckline, the sleeve shaping, the cat, and the fishbowl. As always, click on any one of these images to view an enlargement.

I just love the goldfish with their *googly* eyes, which I acquired courtesy of the ever-thoughtful Anita, who has a great big bag of them on hand because she often knits sweaters for her grandchildren. :-)

Smothered in Ketchup

2011-08-12T11:16:00.000-07:00

Despite this salubrious health warning (and let's face it: pretty much anything is bad for you if consumed in excess), the grim reality is that we here at The Faculty Meeting Knitter are playing ~~ketchup~~ catch-up in a MAJOR way these days. I personally prefer to take the Great American Condiment only in small quantities, but with several months worth of knitting projects off the needles yet still waiting to be blogged, the only way out of this mess is through it. And so we press forward, one photo gallery at a time... Efforts are now underway and gaining momentum, with retrospective posts appearing at a rapid rate and items gradually being crossed off the summer's hefty "To Do" list. So if you have not visited the site in a while, perhaps lulled into apathy by the long intervals of silence over the winter/spring, you may want to check out the menu at the side of the screen, to see what you have missed lately. Thank you for your continued patience as this mayhem runs its course.

Bunny mittens!!

2011-08-12T06:57:00.000-07:00

These were a huge hit with people on campus and my friends on Facebook, so I'm excited to be bringing them to the blog audience at last...

Before I get down to the subject of knitting, I want you to meet two special somebodies who are very important to me. They are a bonded pair of house rabbits, known formally as Cinnamon the Mocha Bunny (right) and Olorin the Little Gray Bunny (left). She is a mini-lop, while he is a Netherland Dwarf mix. They have lived with us for quite a few years now, long enough for many legends and stories to spring up about them. For instance, the phrase "Cinnamon the Mocha Bunny" is fun to say in a wide variety of circumstances, or even at random, and can be sung as the lyrics to ANY tune imaginable (trust me, my husband and I have amply demonstrated this!). And Olorin happens to be Gandalf's name in the language of Westernesse, for those of a Tolkienian bent...

I could go on and on about the charming personalities and funny antics of my beloved furry creatures. But for purposes of this blog post, the salient point is that they are different colors. So when I found a pattern for Bunny Mittens from House on a Hill Knits, I knew in an instant that I had to knit them as a tribute to Cinnamon and Olorin. And so I did, using 6 different shades of KnitPicks Pallete yarn (black, white, bison, marble heather, lipstick, and teal), and adding features that appealed to me from two other patterns: the Latvian braid and hem from Deep in the Forest mittens by Tuulia Salmela (a pattern waiting eagerly in my queue for just the right moment to arrive) and the side outline and lining from Fiddlehead mittens by Adrian Bizilia (which I had already made and enjoy wearing quite often). As with my Fiddleheads, I used KnitPicks Andean Treasure (100% baby alpaca) for the lining, which feels deliciously yummy and soft next to the skin. The following photo gallery tells pretty much the whole story of how they were made, step by step. I am proud of my colorwork on this project, and feel particularly smug about the fact that I paused to weave in all the hellish ends neatly before picking up stitches for the lining, even though my hard work and attention to detail will never show. But that's what pictures are for, to commemorate events and accomplishments hat would otherwise go unnoticed. As always, click on any one of these images to view an enlargement.

Between the double layer of Peruvian highlands wool from the stranded colorwork and the thick, cushy alpaca lining, these mittens are phenomenally warm and essentially windproof — just the ticket, in other words, for my chilly walks to & from work in the dead of winter. And even apart from keeping my hands from freezing off, they make me ridiculously HAPPY just to look at, because it's like having lots of little Cinnamons and Olorins along on my adventures. I am particularly fond of the gray bunny on each thumb.

Elm Row (and extras!!)

2011-08-11T19:21:00.000-07:00

And now for another finished object whose 15 minutes of blog fame are LONG overdue...

I grew up in and around New Haven, CT, affectionately known as the Elm City from having played host in the 1750's to the first public tree-planting program in the US, two centuries before Dutch Elm Disease effectively wiped out all the elm trees (although a precious few have apparently survived).

So when I ran across Anne Hanson's Elm Row scarf, it was an easy choice for the Deep Forest colorway of Unique Sheep Eos (50% merino wool / 50% tussah silk) that I picked up from Earthfaire, where it appears as an exclusive offering from time to time (one of many creative collaborations between Ellen and Laura and Kelly). The yarn is a marvelous mixture of spring greens with a touch of tawny golden brown, and I decided to pair it with 6/0 sparkling metallic gold-lined crystal beads. Here is my best photo of what the skein looked like before winding (which really brings out the range of cheerful colors), and another showing the wound yarn-cake with the container of beads. Notice how all of the colors from the hand-painted hank are still there, but subtly blended together. As always, click on either image to take a closer look.

To be honest, I do not have much to say about the knitting process on this one, except that the project took me ~9 months to complete (mid-March to mid-December of last year), mainly because I preferred to work on it in short, intermittent bursts rather than continuously. Anne's instructions are impeccable, as always, and I found the pattern easy to learn, albeit rather repetitive over the long haul. I placed beads in the convenient little grooves running down the center of each elm leaf: 3 beads per leaf for 7 pattern repeats at either end, and 1 bead per leaf everywhere else.

The scarf was designed to be knitted in one piece from top to bottom, but I wanted the ends to match when worn, and so set out to knit two identical pieces that would meet in the middle, with the graft neatly concealed at the back of the wearer's neck. I came up with a convenient way to ensure that two pieces coming from either direction would meet up, by ending at two different rows so that the lace pattern would align properly. Two web resources helped me hone my Kitchener technique: this Knitty editorial and this YouTube video.

The finished piece blocked out to an impressive 13 1/2” wide x 72” long!! It used up 35 g from the 50 g skein, with a total of 370 beads. Here are some pictures. The long, skinny one running down the left side shows how it looked from end to end, pinned out on a queen-sized bed. To the right is a photo of the graft (with apologies for the grid of the blocking cloth peeking through from underneath), and below are several closeup views of the lace fabric after the blocking wires were removed, two focused on the heavily beaded portion at the end of the stole, and one higher up with fewer beads. I feel thoroughly enchanted with the finished effect of this piece, because the pattern has such a rich texture and depth to it. The Eos seems to glow from within (it must be the silk content, right?), and the beads add a perfect touch of sparkle, like drops of dew glinting in the morning sun. As always, click on any image to view an enlargement.

As luck would have it, I finished the stole with leftover materials just in time for the release of Anne's follow-up design: Elm Leaves wristlets, where the same organic lace motif appears as a dainty ruffle dangling from a ribbed cuff. I added 3 beads per leaf to match the ends of the stole, and voilà.

Each cuff needed only a short time to knit, never mind the fact that I took a rather sizable break in between the two, but let me say that 4” is an awful lot of ribbing with lace-weight yarn and 2.75 mm needles... These are definitely meant more as decorative accessories than strictly functional garments, but I still find them surprisingly warm to wear. They will complement the stole beautifully. :-)

Unst Stole: Inching Forward

2011-08-11T08:59:00.000-07:00

The Unst Stole by Sharon Miller (Project #7 in Heirloom Knitting) is currently my longest-standing WIP, and after 2+ years I am eager to finish it up as soon as I possibly can. But, as Treebeard would say, Let's not be hasty... It's not really up to me anyway. This project insists on setting its own pace, because it is incredibly painstaking, and anytime I try to rush, or work on it under less-than-perfect lighting conditions, or when I am tired and/or not fully alert, I always live to regret it. So, frustrating though it may be, I have learned and must continually remind myself that slow-and-steady is the ONLY way to make any real progress. It will all be worth it in the end.

Fortunately, I have managed to devote quite a bit of time to the Unst lately, so there are some very encouraging results, although my hope (wish??) from this earlier blog post that it might actually be done by the end of summer will almost certainly prove to have been overly optimistic. By the end of the year is more like it, or maybe before the snow flies. We'll see. At any rate, the good news is that I can now report (with pictures!!) on all three sections of the pattern: center, borders, and edging.

I. Center
It took me three tries with two embarrassingly long hiatuses in between to get through the 476 rows of my modified center pattern, but on May 1st I finally reached that point. I did a total of 9 repeats, beginning and ending with a framing band of mirrored ferns and alternating in the middle between the original pattern and an adaptation of the Shetland Twins motif. Here's an old picture of the bottom frame and the first several repeats, plus a new one showing the entire center. Click on either thumbnail to get a closer look.

II. Borders
The Unst borders have always been my favorite part of Sharon Miller's design. There is something about the delicate lace trellis with its different diamond motifs, each of which is distinct and yet beautifully harmonized with the others, that I find utterly captivating. My one complaint is that the 136 rows of the original charts are over too quickly. That's not a lot of yardage, especially at the tiny gauge that I get with Gossamer CashSilk and 1.5 mm (US 000) needles. So for my stole I decided to double the length of both border panels, which should dramatically showcase the trellis/diamond pattern when the piece is worn.

Below are three photos to illustrate exactly what I did, since I did not simply repeat the charts as written. The top photo shows the frame separating the border from the center below it, and the beginning of the first border panel. In the lower left you can see how it looked when both charts were complete (June 6th). According to the original design, the body of the shawl would have stopped there. Note that there are 5 full diamonds in the trellis, each containing a different pattern (ABCDE), with half-diamonds above and below. I replaced the motif in rows 1-11 (i.e. the bottom half-diamond) with the more symmetrical/rounded one found on p. 218 of HK, and also wrote out a chart to complete the half-diamond at the top (F), which enabled me to continue the trellis with the original series of diamond motifs in reverse order: ABCDE-F-EDCBA, ending with the substituted 11 rows once again. The result is perfectly mirrored and balances nicely. I finished the 1st border panel on June 18th, and was amazed at how effortlessly my two-year-old provisional cast-on allowed itself to be unraveled so that I could start the 2nd identical panel, which I FINALLY finished on July 17th, bringing the stole to 70% completion, with only the edging left to round the whole thing off. As always, click on any of these pictures to get a closer view. I recommend this for the largest one in particular, which does not show up very well on a small scale.

III. Edging
Make no mistake: the edging may feel like an afterthought to the body of the stole, but it is a MAJOR undertaking all by itself, representing 30% (i.e. nearly 1/3!!) of the stitch-count for the project as a whole. The original Unst stole edging with its boxy squares in garter-stitch has always struck me as rather clunky, so I went hunting through Heirloom Knitting again and chose a more delicate pattern that seemed to strike just the right note. It is called the Queen’s Lace Edging (HK, p. 129) and fortunately has the same 20-row repeat as the original. It already includes a strip of faggotting along the inner edge, but I decided to incorporate the spider-hole insert from the original design as well.

A kind friend on Ravelry helped me do the math, which came out to a satisfyingly even total of 150 points: 20 across each of the short sides and 55 up/down the long sides, with sufficient ease before and after each corner to make the turns and still lie flat. The same Ravelry friend also advised me to go ahead and pick up stitches all the way around the stole on a long circular needle — 1420 of them, to be exact — to which the edging could then be attached. This took the better part of a day and was an ENORMOUS headache at the time (I won't pretend otherwise), but all that work up-front turned out to be a terrific investment. The Big Win was that it enabled me to double-check the spacing and stitch-counts and make minor adjustments in advance, rather than trying to do this on-the-fly and quite possibly having to rip out portions of the lace itself if something went awry. Now that I have all the stitches neatly held in reserve with markers at intervals to help me count, I no longer have to worry about whether the spacing will come out right and can therefore concentrate on the actual knitting, which poses enough of a challenge all by itself.

This third and final series of photos contains a close-up of the first 3 edging points, a wide shot of the entire stole, showing all the stitches bunched up on the circular needle with markers every 20 stitches along the edges and every 10 stitches near the corners, and finally my most recent picture showing the first *10* edging points (= halfway across the first short side).

The Queen's Lace is a 20-row repeat, as I mentioned, and the spider-hole insert is a 6-row repeat, so they line up together only occasionally (i.e. once after 1.5 repeats of the main pattern and again after 3 full ones). It's intricate and fiddly, with the added complication of working left-handed (chart dyslexia, anyone?). I think there's just a learning-curve and that it will speed up once I get the hang of how everything fits together. But I've been at it for several weeks now and still haven't turned the 1st corner, because I kept having to rip out bits. Two steps forward, one step back. Yesterday after yet another minor setback, I did manage to knit three or four points in a row without mishap, so maybe it will finally start to go more quickly from now on. That would certainly be nice, because at the rate I've been going so far, I estimate that it would take another 8 MONTHS or more to finish. Sigh. Clearly, no matter what, this edging is going to be with me for quite a while. Slow and steady, slow and steady, slow and steady...

Portrait of the Knitter as a Middle-Aged Woman

2011-08-11T08:46:00.000-07:00

My good friend Viki took this photo of me not long ago at a church gathering, where we sat outdoors on a glorious spring afternoon enjoying food and fellowship together. After the meal I got out my knitting, of course, and I have only to look at the picture to feel a wave of peace & contentment spreading over me, as it did on that day. I share it with Viki's gracious permission.

P.S. Note the dpn's in my hand. Not socks, though... I was working on an elegant pair of beaded cashmere gloves, about which there will be more to say on a later occasion in what I hope will be the not-too-distant future.

Happiness is... tenure, and my very 1st pair of handknitted SOCKS.

2011-08-11T07:23:00.000-07:00

OK. It's high time that I started catching up with myself around here, as I'm sure everyone will agree...

First and foremost I need to write about socks, so naturally (?!!) the place to start is with news from my professional life. A few months ago I became a tenured member of my college's faculty. This represents a major milestone in my academic career, and comes about as a result of many years' hard work and dedicated service, but apart from a blessed sabbatical this fall and slight rise in pay that will be VERY welcome when it kicks in at the start of the new school year, the fundamental nature of my work hasn't changed much at all. I will still be dividing my time between teaching, research, and other campus commitments as before. Oddly enough, the most noticeable difference so far has nothing to do with my job, and it's one that I manufactured myself by deliberately linking the tenure process to my initiation into the mysteries of sock knitting.

Remember this post from about a year ago? In a nutshell, "No socks until tenure!!" had been my personal mantra since graduate school in the 1990's. The inevitable corollary was that tenure finally meant SOCKS, and so over the course of the fall and winter, at each stage in the process -- submitting my dossier (August), getting a favorable ruling from the Faculty Evaluation Committee (October), meeting with the Dean (November), and finally receiving the official stamp of approval from the Board of Trustees (February) -- I began amassing a collection of sock yarn and sock patterns, in preparation for the big moment of casting on for the first pair.

I knew offhand that I would feel more comfortable using dpn's for socks, as opposed to either two circulars or Magic Loop, despite the popularity of both these other methods. It's not a dogmatic thing for me, but a matter of personal preference and comfort. I just happen to like dpn's, having gotten over my once-upon-a-time phobia of the dreaded "prickly porcupine" by making various hand-warmers over the years. Of course one drawback is that you can't really knit two socks at once with dpn's, but there's a terrific approximation with two balls of yarn and two sets of needles, where you switch back and forth and knit the pair in tandem by stages: first both toes, then both feet, then both heels, and then both legs, or vice versa for top-down construction. Works like a charm. And due to what turned out to be a happy accident with my KnitPicks shopping cart a couple of years ago, I already had two sets of nickel-plated dpn's in typical sizes for socks (2.0 - 3.25 mm, US 0 - 3). It was the easiest thing in the world to form a good habit from the get-go and avoid "Second Sock Syndrome" altogether.

For the inaugural pair, I chose solid, dependable Brown Sheep Wildfoote in the colorway called "Bark Cloth" (= brick red, see left), and a very simple pattern from Charlotte Schurch's Sensational Knitted Socks: Garter Rib Socks. The Dean of my college actually called me right after the Trustees voted to grant me tenure, and I cast on that very evening (February 12th), using a 2.0 mm (US 0) needle, because I had heard from the friend who recommended Wildfoote to me that it wears like iron but does best with a tight gauge. Wow. Knitting an actual sock after so many years of build-up where sock knitting was Something That Happened To Other People made me feel light-headed, but the project itself was fairly uneventful. Since the pattern was top-down and I had no personal experience to guide me, I fussed a bit over estimating how long to make the leg so as not to run out of yarn at the end, but it all came out alright. For such a momentous event, I took LOTS of pictures. Here is a gallery documenting the various stages of completion. Click on any one of these thumbnails to see a larger view.

The entire project took about 2 1/2 weeks from start to finish, and the socks turned out to be gratifyingly comfy and warm, although the fit is perhaps not quite as snug as I might have ideally preferred. Definitely good enough to be getting on with, though, and especially for a first attempt. I felt so proud of myself as a newbie sock knitter that I wore them pretty much continually until the second pair was ready to join in a rotation. :-)

List Mania

2011-06-20T17:43:00.001-07:00

OK, let's just come out & admit it: this past school year was NOT terribly kind to my blog on the whole, and it wasn't just coming up for tenure that caused the recurring difficulties. I faced a veritable host of other distractions.

Ghost & Goblin, formerly known due to ringworm as the "plague kittens" or chatonnes de la peste, were finally pronounced fungus-free and released from their long quarantine at the end of February. Here they are shown blissfully sleeping on the first afternoon in their new much more spacious & comfy abode. When the quarantine was lifted, I had a sore back and lot of catching up to do in all the other aspects of my life that had been woefully neglected while I dutifully sat tending baby cats in "The Haunted Loo." I barely remember the month of March, and the rest of the spring went WHOOSH!! Thankfully I managed to stay afloat in all of my courses, but I could tell that I was slowly-but-surely running out of steam. The prospect of a sabbatical from teaching in the coming fall was just about the only thing that kept me going to the end of Winter term. And then I took a group of students abroad to study Roman Italy for 2 1/2 weeks in May, which accounted for about twice that much time in preparation beforehand and afterward in recovery.

So the blog in 2010-2011 has had gaps & hiatuses up one side and down the other. On the up-side, I kept knitting at least, whenever time allowed, meaning that I have quite a lot of nifty stuff to showcase here, now that the summer is offering me a chance to catch up once again.

One way to quantify progress over the last twelve months is to compare what I've gotten done to the seemingly endless catalog of WIP's from June 2010. And the BIG news on that front is that I have now successfully completed eight (*8*) of the twelve (*12*) projects on that list, as follows...

Stained Glass Felted Bag: completed in June 2010, within days of the original WIP list and written up here;
Fiddlehead Mittens: completed in late August 2010, and discussed in the end-of-summer wrap-up here;
Candlelight Kimono: likewise completed in late August 2010, and discussed here;
Frejya sweater: FINALLY completed in March 2011, and not yet discussed in full;
Stornoway: completed in October 2010, and discussed here (with additional photos here);
Evenstar: completed in at the end of June 2010, and discussed here;
American Beauty: completed in time for Easter 2011, and not yet discussed in full;
Elm Row: completed in December 2010, and not yet discussed in full.

Right now the only projects that I have going, and the only WIP's listed on my Ravelry profile, are the remaining four of the original twelve. They actually fit across a single row on my little laptop screen!! I have been waiting a long time to see that happen. Although they are all on separate timetables and at different stages of completion, I have been making as-of-yet undocumented progress lately on two of them in particular, as follows...

Unst Stole: currently somewhere ~55-60% complete, with the center (FINALLY!!) and one border segment done. When the 2nd border is finished (sometime in July?), I will have only the edging left to do, and the project will stand at 75% complete. This project may have stalled out a couple of times before, but it is most definitely "over the hump" now, and I fully expect to have it wrapped up by the end of the summer.
Eriskay: the body is thankfully complete up to the armholes, including the bottom part of the underarm gussets, and I recently divided the stitches for the yoke. I have begun work on the back portion, and hope to have both yokes finished by the end of the summer and the entire sweater by Christmas.
Mehndi does not really deserve to be called a WIP, strictly speaking, since all I did in April 2010 was to cast on and knit far enough into the 1st chart to see what the yarn & beads & pattern would look like together. It did not amount to more than just a swatch, in other words, and I am still waiting for the right moment to pick it up and start work in earnest. Look for news sometime later this summer.
Peggy Tudor has been on hold for a while, waiting for me to get a long list of other things out of the way so that I can concentrate on the next segment. For the sweater is cunningly designed to be assembled out of many small pieces. I am deliberately setting no deadlines for this project, so that I can take it at a natural, unhurried pace and savor the intricacy of the process without ever having to distress myself over it. So while I expect to complete it sometime in 2012, I refuse to make any more detailed forecasts.

Meanwhile, in the past year all of the following additional projects also came and went, whether I have managed to write about them yet or not...

Herbert Niebling lace (x2): I did a practice square in crochet cotton and a rectangular piece in gossamer silk from the same pattern, with the latter as a wedding gift for my sister-in-law and her husband. Both were completed in July 2010, as discussed here and here.
Frosted Leaf Necklace: with this lovely kit from Earthfaire, I made my first foray into knitting beaded jewelry. It was completed in September 2010 and discussed here.
Rivendell Cowl: I splurged with some birthday money and bought the luxury color-shifting yarn to make this showpiece from Susan Pandorf, completed in December 2010, and discussed here.
Unikatissima's Lace Advent Calendar: this was a thoroughly enjoyable and relaxing knit, completed just after New Year's and discussed here.
Continuum Legwarmers: a magnificent design by Sivia Harding, completed in January 2011, and discussed here (sadly my most recent post, prior to this one).
Elm Leaves wristlets: made to match Elm Row, completed in February and not yet discussed at all.
Garter Rib Socks (a.k.a. "Look Who's Got Tenure Now): my very first pair of socks, completed in early March, and not yet discussed at all.
Bunny Mittens: lined in alpaca and exquisitely warm, completed in early March, and not yet discussed at all.
Oak Grove Mitts: a design by Anna Dalvi done up in exquisite Sanguine Gryphon Bugga! yarn, completed in mid-March, and not yet discussed at all.
Gingerbread House Socks: my 2nd pair ever, with a lovely lace pattern and custom fit to just below the knee, completed in late March, and not yet discussed at all.
Eomer Shield Tam: a lovely colorwork pattern and my first ever test-knit for a friend on Ravelry who designed it, completed in late March, and not yet discussed at all.
Northern Lights Bracelet: my second beaded jewelry piece, also a kit from Earthfaire, this one using mood beads that change color when the ambient temperature goes up or down. Completed in May, and not yet discussed at all.
In Dreams: the second Tolkien-inspired mystery lace KAL by Susan Pandorf, using a custom "gradiance" colorway from The Unique Sheep (that I helped to design) and containing ~5000 beads, completed in June, and not yet discussed at all.
Sorrento Sunset: my travel-knitting for the Italy trip with a group of students (see above), completed in June shortly after we returned, and not yet discussed at all.
Beaded Blue Cashmere Gloves: my first non-fingerless glove project in luxurious 100% cashmere, completed just this past weekend, and not yet discussed at all.

So I have been a busy little professor in 2010-2011, and no mistake. What is more, even leaving aside any long-term plans and ignoring undue pressure from the back of the queue, I expect to launch at least two new projects in the coming week: a 3rd pair of socks, now that the gloves are off the WIP list (as per My Rules, to which I fully intend to adhere), and a summer KAL from BadCat designs where I will make a circular shawl bringing together gossamer CashSilk leftover from the Princess project, itty bitty 11/0 beads, and (for the first time in my life) nupps. Yes, I said *NUPPS*.

To be perfectly honest, the challenge for me is really not in the knitting, but in the typing, the text-writing, the image-processing, and the web-publishing. I have labored to produce this elaborate catalog today, therefore, as a testimony to the progress that I have made on the knitting side of things, even during the recurring periods of silence. And, more importantly for the sake of the blog, the same can also serve as a To Do list for the next few weeks. Let's see if I can REALLY get caught up by the end of this month, by documenting all my newest work as it happens, and by gradually writing up all the projects that as of right now are not yet discussed in full (= 3 total) or at all (= 10). Clearly I have my work cut out for me...

Continuum Legwarmers

2011-04-05T16:13:00.000-07:00

Stress points in the space-time continuinuinuum... — Ponder Stibbons, Department of High-Energy Magic, Unseen University
(from the novel The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett, c. 1988)

The minute I saw Sivia Harding's Continuum legwarmers, featuring 100's of beads and an amazing Celtic cable design, they went right to the top of my queue for Christmas break. I thought of them as my Christmas gift to myself. Our house gets decidedly chilly in the winter, you see, and for the sake of the long afternoons and evenings that I often spend sitting still while struggling to stay warm, I sought to maximize the coziness factor by using an alpaca yarn (Knit Picks Andean Treasure). I paired the rich charcoal gray color called Mystery Heather with 6/0 beads in Metallic Amethyst Gunmetal. The beads glow with a quiet and distinctly purple intensity that marks a delightful contrast with the fuzzy warmth of the yarn. It was a match made in heaven (see left, and click for a closer view).

The ~450 beads for each warmer had to be strung in advance, which got interesting as I went along, because each skein of the yarn contained only 110 yards. I used six skeins in all, and although I always tried to err on the side of stringing too many beads at any given time, rather than too few, inevitably there were a lot leftover whenever I changed skeins, so I ended up re-stringing some of them several times. It felt like many more than 1,000 beads!!

But the biggest challenge that I faced with this project was not the beads: it was the fit. The original design called for 100% wool yarn, with a broad flare toward the bottom to accommodate a pant leg and/or boot. See the example shown in white on the left here. Of course alpaca fiber, though warmer by weight than wool, has little trace of the elasticity and springiness for which sheep fleece is justly famous, so I knew I would probably end up altering the pattern somewhat to help the legwarmers stay up. But I was still surprised by just how much the fabric wanted to stretch out and hang loose around my ankles. To make the fabric more pliable, I decided to move up a needle size to a US size 6 (4.0 mm), which naturally also enhanced the floppiness of the bell-bottom.

In fact, after some experimentation, I ended up reworking the lower half of each warmer to remove the bell-bottom increases altogether. It took several weeks to complete the alterations. The end result fits a lot more snugly, although the ankle still flares out to some extent. I still wouldn't trust them to stay up either, if I need to walk or move around very much, and especially if I wear them over any kind of slippery fabric.

I used Jeny's Surprisingly Stretchy Slip-Knot Cast-On for this project again, as I had first done with Rivendell, and then I also taught myself the corresponding Surprisingly Stretchy Bind Off, which has since proven its usefulness time and time again. It is so much fun to experiment with new knitting techniques and expand one's repertoire.

The top two photos below show the upper portion of one warmer and the elaborate cable motif at the knee. Then there is a picture of the knitting in progress, followed by two full-length shots of the finished object: one as written from the first time around, with all the extra fabric, and the second as I revised the pattern to make the two ends match. The change in shape was really quite dramatic. As always, click on any of these images to take a closer look.

These elegant beaded legwarmers do a magnificent job of fending off the cold, and they look fantastic all the while, but I have to admit that they also tend to fall down at the slightest provocation. So I have concluded that they are best suited for times when I need extra warmth while staying put for extended periods, such as around the house or in the car. Fortunately, there are plenty of such times, when I can put them to good use. They perform beautifully under the right conditions. I have plans to make another pair in pure wool specifically for my walks to/from work, either with an even more heavily modified version of this design, or perhaps with another pattern entirely. Never a shortage of new knitting projects around here, no sirree...

Stornoway Photos

2011-04-05T15:47:00.000-07:00

Somehow, in the midst of letting the blog lie fallow for so long, I managed not to post any pretty pictures here of my dear hubbly wearing his Stornoway guernsey. So here are two shots of him in the sweater, holding our beloved Wobbles. We rescued this astonishingly fluffy little tiger-cat in 2008, when she was a mere 18 hours old. She had to be bottle fed for the first several weeks, until she could start to eat solid food. Her name came from watching her learn to get around on her stumpy little legs. As always, click on either photo to take a closer look.

Rivendell Cowl

2011-04-05T11:12:00.000-07:00

The parade of knitted objects from my blog-sabbatical continues...

One of the little indulgences that I allowed myself during the Christmas holiday was to knit Susan Pandorf's Rivendell cowl with the luxury yarn specified in the pattern. Muse from Twisted Fiber Art is a sport-weight blend of 50% merino wool and 50% silk, with a dreamy hand and a not-so-subtle sheen. I ordered a custom version of the long-striping "Evolution" colorway called Vintage. This colorway normally shifts from pale gray-green to burgundy and then to pink, but I asked for more of the dark wine color than usual, and for a tad less yellow in the green. What emerged was a lovely mixture of warm gray and burgundy, shading into pale pink. I had a devil of a time getting the colors to show up accurately in digital pictures, but the photo of the yarn (above right) is a fairly good approximation.

The pattern is another one of Susan's exquisite Tolkien-inspired lace designs, featuring interlocking archways, reminiscent of Elven architecture as shown in the LOTR movies, with twisted stitches to lend texture and depth to the fabric. It was a very easy knit that took only a few days, a brief span made all the more satisfying and enjoyable by the gradually shifting colors. I got to teach myself the left-handed version of Jeny's Surprisingly Stretchy Slip-Knot Cast-On, and could have kept knitting more or less indefinitely. But I stopped short of using up the entire skein, because I decided not to place the very palest shade of baby pink next to my face.

The knitted object proved even more difficult to photograph than the skein of yarn, but here are my two best shots, one taken part way through the knitting and the other during blocking. As always, click on either photo to see a larger version. But note that the finished object has less magenta in it and more petal pink than the photo shows. The actual colors are more like what you see in the skein of yarn. At any rate, I wear this cowl often, usually with a gray turtleneck underneath. It adds a marvelous splash of color that helps to cheer me up on those dreary winter days when I have to head into work and try to inspire my students.

Advent Calendar Scarf

2011-04-04T19:28:00.000-07:00

Now without further ado, let's start the recap with a BIG personal favorite, in more ways than one... :-)

I basically kept up with the daily clues for unikatissima's Advent Calendar scarf all the way along. In fact, I even finished the main part of the knitting a day or two early (i.e. on Dec. 23rd), because the designer published the last several clues all at once for the benefit of those who might be traveling over the holidays, and so I went ahead and blitzed through them. But then I decided to embellish the piece with an applied edging all the way around, and that took a while. I had to order more yarn first, for one thing. Fortunately I did not have to worry about matching dye lots, though, since I was using natural (undyed) Peruvian Highland wool. The package arrived in about a week, and I managed to be back underway by New Year's Eve. I set a goal of completing the edging and blocking the scarf in time for Russian Christmas on Jan. 6th, the date celebrated by Western Christians as Epiphany, which also happens to be our wedding anniversary. :-)

I chose to do a slight variation on the "Doris Edging" from p. 74 of Sharon Miller's book Heirloom Knitting (see left, and click for a larger view), mainly because the framed diamonds seemed to harmonize nicely with the rest of the lace design. The 12-row repeat (= 6 attachments per edging point) turned out to be ideal for me, because by sheer dumb luck both the stitch count across the top & bottom (= 66) and the row-count along the sides of my augmented scarf/stole (= 294) came out as even multiples of 6. By squeezing the points at either end of each long side into half the usual space, then, I found that I could provide sufficient ease so that the corners would eventually lie flat.

I finished the knitting on Jan. 5th. It came out to 11 points across each of the short ends and 51 points down each long side (= 124 points in all).

This scarf is HUGE by anyone's standards. I decided to emphasize length over width when blocking it, and the only way to get it to fit on the bed was to fold it more or less in half horizontally and block a double layer. I did not stretch it as hard as I could, though, because I wanted the fabric to have some stretchiness and give to it. So the finished measurements are 20” wide x 104” long (i.e. 51 x 264 cm). It’s really more stole than scarf, I suppose, but in the dead of winter, I love having an extra-long scarf that I can wrap around my head & neck several times and still have plenty of yardage hanging at the front/back.

Here's a blocking photo (left), and a picture of me wearing the scarf (right), as I have done pretty much every day since its completion. My 2010 Advent Calendar project quickly became a beloved addition to my wardrobe, as well as a conversation piece. As always, click on either image to see a larger view.

I guess I would rather knit than blog about it, but still...YIKES!!

2011-04-04T18:39:00.000-07:00

Greetings, dear readers. I am back. :-)

I have a LOT of catching up to do (= understatement of the year).

And I owe each and every one of you a sincere apology. There is no good excuse for letting the blog languish for as long as it has. I have been wrestling with a tough teaching schedule all semester, including bouts of fatigue and respiratory illness, but that's always true at this time of year. Welcome to life in academia. I guess the bottom line is that whenever I have managed to eek out any spare time lately, I have wanted to spend it knitting rather than maintaining a chronicle about knitting. I have managed to keep my project notes on Ravelry up to date, and to post pictures there and on Facebook as well. But no blog. I keep telling myself, "This weekend I will return. This weekend..." and then not quite getting around to it.

All of which ends today, with this post. I really really REALLY want to get back into the swing of things again. I have lots of exciting projects to talk about -- past, present, and future -- and the sooner I get caught up on the finished ones, the easier it will be to stay current with WIP's. So let's do this thing. Here and now.

Lace Advent Calendar 2010, Day 4

2010-12-04T13:32:00.001-08:00

I just finished Day 4 of unikatissima's Lace Advent Calendar, using KnitPicks Bare Peruvian Highland Wool (fingering weight) and 3.75 mm (US size 5) needles. Here's what it looks like so far. The motif for day 4 reminds me of a row of candle-flames, with the glowing aura around each one. Click on the image to get an even closer view. :-)

The yarn feels incredibly soft and squishy (squooshy??). I made sure to give the scarf enough width (66 stitches = 4 x 16 + 2) so that it could eventually be folded and/or rolled in half the long way for a double layer of cuddly warmth. As you can see, the various lace patterns have been carefully selected and arranged so that each one flows seamlessly into the next, but to ensure that the finished product will be long enough to match the width, I am sneaking in a few extra rows here and there, wherever it is possible to add pattern repeats without disrupting that crucial flow. So I did 6 extra rows on day 1, and 4 on day 2, but none on day 3 (where I would have had to add 8 rows, which seemed like a bit much) or day 4 (which is a transitional pattern that did not want to be repeated). I also did a provisional cast-on, so that a beaded edging of some kind can be applied at the end. I like the idea of keeping my options open, depending on how it all turns out.

It will be fun to watch the pattern evolve over the coming days, between now and Christmas Eve. I really like the idea of using increments of lace knitting to mark the Advent season. Veni, veni Emmanuel...

2.5 out of 3 and counting...

2010-12-04T07:06:00.000-08:00

Heading into the Thanksgiving holiday, I had three knitting goals: (i) to finish the Frejya sweater, tail and all, (ii) to bring Eriskay up to the armholes, and (iii) to get past the heavily beaded bottom segment (= 7.5 pattern repeats in all, ~30 more rows) of Elm Row's second half. Then, I thought, it would be OK to start something new for a chance. And despite the inevitable delays and distractions, I am happy to report that I managed to complete 2.5 of the three during the break. :-)

Frejya is, not surprisingly, the one partial hold-out. I find it very hard to work on the painstaking embellishments when I am tired, which is, alas, almost always the case in these waning days of the fall term, especially right after I get home from work (i.e. during my prime knitting hours). So my progress remains maddeningly slow, but I am encouraged by the extent to which incremental steps continue to be taken. I have finished the face of the cat and one paw (two to go!) and acquired the googly eyes for the goldfish. Anita (The Fiber Artist) and I made an informal pact at our last Odd Tuesday gathering (Nov. 23rd) to complete a sweater each before the next meeting (Dec. 7th), since we both have projects very near to completion that require just one final push to get them "D-U-N done." I intend to wrap up the last few bits of embroidery *today* and then, God willing, to deal with the tail tomorrow (and the next day??), so that I really can wear the sweater to the next Odd Tuesday. Suffice to say that having this perennial project off my "To Do" list would be cause for GREAT rejoicing. As an added reminder that the darn thing is still pending, I am holding off on further photos at least until the embroidery is complete.

Although Frejya went slowly, I got excited about Eriskay and was able to complete not only the diamond pattern in the lower part (which was my original goal) but also the 18-row horizontal band that ends right at the armholes and marks the transition to the ornate yoke. I am following the instructions for the medium size, but added a repeat of the diamond pattern as per the large, once having reassured myself that the amount of yarn on 2 cones of Frangipani would suffice, so that the sweater will have plenty of length below the armholes. I want it to be ample, more like a man's sweater, since that's my preferred modus operandi in the depths of winter. I inherited several sweaters from dear old dad, and wear them often, grateful for the extra coverage. Click on the image above for a closer look at one of the lovely armhole gussets, although I should warn you that the dark plum color (code name "Damson") does not lend itself terribly well to low-light photography. I am waiting for a sunny day to see about getting some better pictures.

With Elm Row, my ambitions were fairly limited as well, but again I managed to exceed my goal by a wide(ish) margin. Happily, once I got going, it did not take long to make my way past the heavily beaded section, and then the work sped up enough for me to do several more pattern repeats. In fact, I surged ahead with it this past week and am now just *6* pattern repeats from the end. Happy dance!! Since the scarf/stole is destined to become a Christmas present, I am reluctant to post pictures of the finished piece until after the holiday, but I have to say that the combination of the graceful design by Anne Hanson, the sunny green-and-brown colorway ("Deep Forest") from The Unique Sheep (also shown here), and the sparkling metallic gold-lined crystal beads from Earthfaire, has proven to be a winner and I think blocking will really open up the lace into something truly special. Anne has also recently come out with this complementary pattern (and yes, I do mean that with an "e," as in "complementary angles"), which I am hoping the remainder of the skein will allow me to make in addition, as the perfect little flourish for the gift.

So where does that leave us in relation to new projects?? Well... I went ahead and joined this Advent KAL, on the grounds that it's not a big time commitment (12-32 rows per day) and will be over in just 3 1/2 weeks. Keeping up with the daily increments will get a lot easier too when classes end next Friday (December 10th). Because it is such a short-term thing, I'm not counting it as a "real" WIP either, but especially with Elm Row suddenly and unexpectedly so close to completion, I'm incredibly reluctant to start anything else until that and Frejya are finally done once and for all, leaving me with *5* of the original dozen, plus the KAL. Then, and only then, will I feel at liberty to cast on for something from my queue. *Almost* there...

Resolution (take that how you will)

2010-11-22T07:42:00.000-08:00

I love my walk to work in the morning, because it always gives me a chance to mull things over, like impromptu lesson plans, household To Do lists, or knitting projects past, present, and future.

Today I decided on the best way to handle the growing tension between the need to wrap up WIP's and the urge to start new projects. This coming week, with the Thanksgiving holiday, will be a break from classes and should give me a chance to get some real knitting done. So... If I can manage to complete three simple tasks — (i) finish Frejya finally, tail and all, (ii) get past the heavily beaded section of Elm Row Part II (~35 more rows), and (iii) reach the armholes of Eriskay (all of which are eminently doable and within my grasp) — I will give myself permission to launch one new smaller project, like a pair of mittens or a piece of jewelry. I have a great big pile of such things in my queue, all lined up and ready to go, so now I will have both an incentive to make progress on the longstanding larger items *and* an opportunity to indulge in the easy gratification of colorful and/or shiny things that can be completed in just a day or two.

And if I play my cards right, the total project count won't ever have to go above *7*, which is where it stands right now. I think I can live with that. Happy dance!! :-)

Operating Difficulties

2010-11-21T21:11:00.000-08:00

Here at The Faculty Meeting Knitter we have been experiencing operating difficulties lately on a number of fronts.

The trusty old Sony digital camera conked out several weeks ago, for one thing, after nearly eight years of loyal service. I was totally flummoxed by the sudden inability to take pictures. But before choosing a replacement device, I consulted with a friend of mine, a librarian at my college who freelances as a photographer and could therefore speak knowledgeably about all the latest advances in technology. The consumer market has certainly changed a lot! I told her what we wanted (something solid and reliable, and not too expensive, that could run on rechargeable AA batteries, to be used mainly for point-and-shoot but with manual override available), and she came up with several options within our price range. There was a Fuji at the "high-end of the low-end" that won over both me and my husband almost immediately, so we ordered it posthaste, and it arrived with fanfares a few days ago. It offers a dazzling range of features for what felt like an astonishingly low price, but although it is intuitively designed and very easy to use, at least on full-auto, it's going to take a while for me to get fully comfortable with it. This post, alas, will perforce be predominantly text-based.

Here's one nice shot that my husband took, however, showing me with les chatonnes de la peste (female "plague kittens"). That's Goblin in brown & white on the left and Ghost in beige & white on the right. They are growing by leaps and bounds, while steadily overcoming the scourge of ringworm in their bathroom quarantine, affectionately known as "The Haunted Loo" because of their names and the odd thumps and plaintive voices heard from within. Last Monday they went to the vet for a round of vaccinations and weighed in at a respectable 3 lbs. 10 oz. for little Goblin and a whopping 4 lbs. 3.5 oz. for her larger sister. If indeed they are litter-mates, as we surmise, then they are probably the runt and the largest of the lot. I think this picture really brings out the family resemblance between them, especially in the shape of their faces and the patterning around their eyes.

We are determined to raise them as affectionate "people kitties" rather than cooped up, neurotic, anti-social beasts, and so each of us has been spending several hours in the bathroom with them every day. They are *full* of bouncy energy most of the time (and are obviously both avid climbers), but they can also fall very fast asleep, as befits their species and tender age. So we play silly games and give them plenty of quality cuddle-time too. The space is not surprisingly rather cramped, and one is constrained to sit on the floor with minimal cushioning. Fortunately, though, there is wi-fi, so although books and papers (and alas, also knitting) are strictly verboten in the quarantine zone, we rarely go in there without a laptop. Keyboards, screens, and casings can easily be wiped down with 1/10 bleach solution on returning to the outside world, after all. :-)

My husband generally takes the babies their breakfast and spends the morning with them, while I head off to campus, and then I serve them dinner and sit with them in the evening. To prevent contagion, we always change clothes before going in or out of their room, and we bathe ourselves thoroughly with soap and shampoo containing tea tree oil after prolonged contact with them. We also anoint ourselves liberally with this amazing salve throughout the day. So we have managed thus far to ward off rampant skin lesions, and what is more, our six other cats still show no signs of contamination. I don't know how we could manage the worst-case scenario, if the fungus ever got lose into the general population of our household. But so far, so good. Meanwhile the kittens are thriving, and have finally grown big enough to start taking the oral med itraconazole that will eventually clear up the ringworm. In fact it's already had a noticeable effect: in just a few short weeks their bald spots have basically disappeared. They will still need another month or two before the quarantine can be lifted, because our vet wants to play it safe and make them pass two tests in a row, two weeks apart. At that point a new world of "fun" will emerge as we try to soothe and/or cajole the other cats into accepting the newcomers into the clan — but that's another adventure.

As I mentioned, time spent with the kittens has forced me to do less knitting than I would like, since I cannot bring fiber into the quarantine zone without bleaching it afterward, but I still try to squeeze in at least a few rows each day for sanity's sake, if nothing else. My progress has been irritatingly slow, with nothing 100% completed since Stornoway over a month ago. There are, alas, still *7* active projects on my Ravelry profile, and although I would very much like to finish one or two lingering items before launching anything new, mental pressure from the queue is becoming a noticeable distraction. I have are SOOOOO many yummy things all lined up and ready to go. For the time being I am still doggedly working away at what I've got, rather than giving into temptation, but we'll see how long it lasts. Then again, I really could not bear a return to the days of a double-digit project count. Perhaps the best approach is to paraphrase Dory's sage advice and just keep knitting, just keep knitting...

In that spirit, here's a quick rundown of the present State of the Kingdom, with a promise of more to come in the not-too-distant future.

The Frejya sweater is 90-95% complete. Despite my confident projection in the aftermath of Stornoway, I did not manage to have it finished by Hallowe'en. Nor is it quite done yet, even now, with Thanksgiving fast approaching. As always, it is the embellishments rather than the actual knitting that are causing the delay. I did the sleeves top-down using a short-row technique that was quite new to me. It took a bit of fiddling (and yes, tinking) to get the proportions right, but the process still went very fast, and I love the end results. I promise to do a more detailed write-up at some point. I also redid the turtleneck collar to make it more roomy, because repeatedly pulling the sweater on and off over my head while trying on the sleeves convinced me that I should. And then I did some embroidery, outlining the two goldfish on the back in shiny metallic copper thread, and on the front the face, eyes, and nose of the cat in appropriate silky shades of orange, brown, black, and white. I still have to do something about whiskers (but what exactly??), add claw-lines to the two front paws, possibly 0utline the entire body of the cat (although I'm not sure about that and may end up leaving just the face highlighted, depending on how it looks), and add the tail. That's all it needs. It sounds so simple and straightforward when you put it that way...

In fact, the tail itself is already knitted and would be ready to attach, were it not for the need to add the @#$^%!! eyelash yarn to make the cat a Maine Coon. At one point I had imagined knitting with multiple strands of the eyelash yarn, pulling the dangling bits to the RS as I went, but the 2-tone intarsia pattern was complicated enough by itself, without all that extra tangled mess to contend with. So I did the knitting first, and will have to use a darning needle and some version of duplicate stitch again, as I did with the body. After the first few attempts proved unsatisfactory, though, I realized that this was going to be a fussy and time-consuming project and laid it aside to consider my options. To be honest, I have not so much as looked at it for a couple of weeks. But I really will get moving on it again very soon, because I cannot stand to have it looming over me any longer. On Tuesday I will get to see my friend Anita (a.k.a. The Fiber Artist). She has a big supply of googly eyes in various sizes and has offered to give me two of the smaller ones for the goldfish at least, if not a pair of the larger ones for the cat as well, so that will be a nice incentive to finish the embroidery. And maybe this same gathering of the Odd Tuesday fiber folk can even induce me to solve The Dreaded Tail Problem at last. Hope springs eternal...

I knew when I first finished Stornoway that I would be facing a bit of an uphill battle to reduce the number of WIP's further, because apart from Frejya (which was about 2/3 done at the time) and one of my Christmas 2010 lace projects, Elm Row (which remains at ~60%), everything else that I had going was still very much in the early stages (~5-25% complete). But I did *NOT* expect Stornoway itself to keep coming back for more. The dilemma is that my husband has longish arms and likes the sleeves of his sweaters, when stretched, to come all the way down to the the base of his thumbs. As noted in the original post, the pattern as written yielded sleeves that were plainly too short, even after blocking. So I went back and immediately doubled the length of the ribbing at the cuffs, thinking that the ability to adjust them slightly would be enough to fix the problem. Yet when he wore the sweater out-and-about for the first time, with a turtleneck underneath, as opposed to trying it on briefly over a T-shirt, it became abundantly clear to both of us that I would have to lengthen the sleeves even further. Sigh.

Thank goodness for top-down construction!! Adjusting the length of the sleeves would have been extremely troublesome — not to say heart-wrenching — otherwise, but I simply undid the bind-off at the cuffs for the 2nd time, ripped out the ribbing and the transitional decrease row between the sleeve pattern and the cuff, and added 3 1/2" to the bottom part of the sleeve that is worked even, below the decreases. It took maybe 3 hours per sleeve, which I stretched out over 4-5 days. The patterns of Stornoway repeat every 6, 8, and 20 rows, and thus do not all converge very often. The original design had been carefully orchestrated so that the math would come out evenly, and I was loathe to attempt any adjustments for fear of disrupting the Order of Things. Fortunately, however, the 20-row pattern had completely disappeared into the sleeve shaping up above, leaving only the 6-row and 8-row patterns in this lower portion. Those two multiples were *much* easier to coordinate. When I reached the desired length (after 41 additional rows), I did the decrease row as written, and then switched to the smaller needles for an amount of ribbing on this 3rd go-round that was less than I had done the 2nd time but more than the 1st, just enough to fold over for a neat 2". He has tried on the new sleeves and pronounced them worthy at last. It would appear that 3's the charm. Rather than blocking the whole thing over again, I soaked just the ends of the sleeves and allowed them to dangle freely while drying. I promise to get the dear man to pose for some celebratory pictures very soon.

As noted above, Elm Row is my other project nearest to completion, but it has been stuck at ~60% for quite a while, waiting for me to find the time when I can sit still and work on it in a concentrated way again. With my limited knitting time since the arrival of the kittens, I have not managed to do any beading whatsoever. Truth be told, this particular project has *never* lent itself very well to being my main focus, because for whatever reason I cannot seem to work on it except in scattered short bursts. I have started the second half, though, and it will get easier once I finish the first 8 pattern repeats, which are heavily beaded, and begin the main portion, where there are fewer beads and the knitting can speed up a bit. With only two more weeks left of actual classes this semester, maybe some decent blocks of time will finally open up soon. At any rate, there is no reason why I can't have the whole thing done in time for Christmas, as planned, as long as I fix it as a priority and continue to whittle away at it gradually.

By far the biggest surprise in recent weeks, while so many other things have been languishing for lack of attention, is the stunning progress that I have made with Eriskay all of a sudden. I picked it up after finishing off Stornoway for the 3rd time, as something relaxing and relatively straightforward to knit when tired. For November is a *very* tired month in academia... And without ever doing more than a few rows at a time (especially with 320 stitches around on 2.25 mm needles), I have nevertheless managed to bring it within an inch or so of the point where the underarm gussets will begin. That is an amazing feeling, and I look forward to posting pictures very soon to mark the accomplishment.

So... Barring some catastrophe unforeseen, Frejya, Stornoway, Elm Row, and Eriskay will *ALL* be subjected to the new camera in the coming days. Maybe I will even be able to check off one or two more finished objects before the next wave of new projects hits. Good things are certainly on the way, whatever happens, and meanwhile this post should suffice to keep the blog alive while we iron out our operating difficulties. Please stand by.

"No socks until tenure!!"

2010-10-13T11:21:00.000-07:00

It sounds coockoo, right? But I'm not kidding. "No socks until tenure!" has been a mantra of mine for *years*, ever since the whole sock explosion began and knitters everywhere started spending their hard-earned savings on fingering-weight wool/nylon blends and obsessively carrying their sock projects around with them. At first it was just dpn's, but soon the alternate techniques came along and the Great Debates arose: magic loop vs. 2-circs, toe-up vs. top-down, heel flaps vs. short-rows vs. afterthought heels, etc. People took sides on these questions, and you couldn't visit a yarn store or knitting website, or open a knitting magazine, without bumping into another disquisition on why such-and-such was the most revolutionary and life-changing invention/discovery since the yarn swift. And don't get me started about all the hand-painted sock-yarns that suddenly flooded the market...

For a long time, though, I was only dimly aware of these momentous developments, because I had inured myself to the entire world of sock-knitting. I had heard just enough about the allure of sock projects that I instinctively shied away from them ("Beware the sock...") and vowed that I would continue to steer clear until I was granted tenure, and with it a measure of freedom and autonomy to accommodate passionate hobbies in my life, if I chose. Until quite recently (see below), I didn't buy sock yarn, read sock books, download sock patterns, or even fave sock designs on Ravelry (although oddly enough other people's knitted projects were in a different category from the work of sock designers). Mind you, I had nothing against sock-knitting per se. Quite a few of my best friends are avid sock-knitters, and I agree on principle with this fellow blogger's recent apologia for hand-knit socks. Yet nevertheless I came to view sock-knitting as Something That Happened to Other People, for the time being at least.

The problem was that my attentions, as a junior faculty member, were already spoken for. I needed to get my career stabilized before taking on either the financial burden or the massive time commitment that I knew sock-knitting would entail, because it would never stop at the first pair, or the second, or the third. One thing was bound to lead to many more, and I simply couldn't afford outside interests. To make matters worse, my first professorial "gig" was in a dysfunctional department. All my activities were closely scrutinized, and knitting too much, especially in public, would have been frowned upon as an indicator of insufficient dedication to my research. I was hired by a state university primarily for my skills as a teacher, and given responsibility for large lecture classes with 100's of students, but then judged strictly on the basis of my scholarly productivity. Juggling all the conflicting expectations and demands became a professional nightmare. I did what I could, but under those conditions, not getting tenure did not come as a shock in the end, or even as a disappointment. Honestly, the predominant feeling that I had was *relief* at being set free from an unpleasant work environment, especially since the job search eventually brought me to a small liberal arts college where I am MUCH more at home and have been both happier and, oddly enough, more productive as well. So no hard feelings remain, just gratitude at having arrived in a better place. It is remarkably easier to get along in life when you *belong* where you *are*...

But as more and more years went by without my getting tenure, I established an identity for myself as Someone Who Does Not Knit Socks. I had been chanting the mantra for so long that it simply became a fact of life, something taken for granted, like gravity, or tax increases, or the onset of presbyopia. My husband had heard tell of "Beware the sock" too, had seen the credit card statements from my other knitting exploits, and could do the math. So every time the subject of hand-knitted socks would come up, or sock yarn, or sock patterns, etc., he would roll his eyes and thank his lucky stars that I had not yet succumbed.

Staying away from socks per se did not prevent me from knitting. Lace emerged instead as the perfect alternative for my lifestyle, since each purchase of gossamer yarn, though by no means cheap, would yield hours, weeks, months, even years of contented handiwork. It was a process knitter's dream: once or twice a year I could spend a bit of money on gossamer yarn, and then settle down again for the long haul, putting in as much time on the project, or as little, as I happened to have available from day to day and week to week. After switching jobs, I found that I could actually knit during faculty meetings, or between classes, or after dinner, or whenever I needed a break. The eventual result was the Wedding Ring (see photo at left) and Princess shawls. Not too shabby, hein?

In 2006, after a year at the new post, the decision-date for tenure was set for several more years down the road. I did not object or try to accelerate the pace, because I was happy to concentrate on enjoying my work and let the rest take care of itself. All in due time, eh? And no socks for MRPP until 201o-2011.

Which is this academic year.

>>gulp<<

Suddenly the familiar landscape is changing. It was one thing to keep saying, "No socks until tenure!" when that basically meant "for the foreseeable future." But now that I am actually *up* for tenure this year — have indeed filed all the necessary paperwork and am only waiting for the Powers That Be to reach a decision — the possibility of knitting socks has started to loom larger and larger in my imagination. In many ways, sock-knitting has become the symbol for me of what tangible difference, if any, finally getting tenure will make in my life. I certainly don't want to jinx anything by speaking too soon, but the omens for tenure this time around are truly very encouraging. It's a totally different world. I feel extremely confident that the process is going to end with a verdict in my favor. So as far as sock knitting goes, we are no longer talking about a remote possibility. It could actually happen sometime in the next few months.

Incidentally, it can be an interesting challenge to decide precisely *when* tenure happens. This is more than just a semantic question. The specific procedures and protocols differ from one place to another, but there are typically several stages to the process. On our campus it goes something like this...

First the candidate prepares and submits a dossier and colleagues write letters (that was back in August), then an elected body known as the Faculty Evaluation Committee reads through all the materials (this is going on now) and eventually drafts a letter to the Dean with a recommendation, yes or no. That will happen most likely sometime before Thanksgiving. The candidate gets to read the letter before it is sent, and can make comments or suggestions for the record that are also sent along to the Dean. Next there is a meeting with the Dean (sometime in December?), who in turn makes his/her own recommendation to the President, who eventually presents a slate of candidates for tenure to the Board of Trustees at the February meeting. Only then, with a vote from the Trustees, does the tenure decision become official and final, although in practice that vote is almost always a rubber stamp. Deans and Presidents have been known to go against the recommendations from earlier stages in the process, but generally speaking, if the system is working right, the committee's recommendation should prove to be decisive.

So when do you celebrate? If you throw a party when the letter is initially drafted, the whole deal could still go sour at a later stage, which would be a devastating blow. But if you insist on having everything signed, sealed, and delivered, you have to wait until after the February meeting of the Board of Trustees, by which point the results are old news. It's a real dilemma.

Since I intend to mark the arrival of tenure with the knitting of socks, I have decided to celebrate in stages, by taking baby steps in that direction as each successive stage of the process is auspiciously concluded. My birthday comes in August, and this year it happened to fall right after I submitted my tenure dossier, including the grueling self-evaluation, which came out to a bit more than 12 pages single-spaced (I chose to be deliberately anti-superstitious about the page-count). My mother sent me a generous birthday check, and so I spent a chunk of the money on sock-related materials to mark the completion of the dossier.

First of all, KnitPicks was having the magnificent 40%-off sale on books. At the recommendation of a friend who is a veteran sock-knitter, I ordered Sensational Knitted Socks by Charlene Schurch (AMAZING tutorials and tables to calculate stitch-repeats for feet in all shapes and sizes), along with its sequel More Sensational Knitted Socks. These books are the perfect place to start in learning about basic sock construction and how patterns of color and/or texture are worked into the various parts of a sock. And then, once having taken the plunge, I lost no time in acquiring the two irresistible sock-knitting books by Janel Laidman: The Eclectic Sole and The Enchanted Sole. The latter in particular is about as eye-catching a pattern collection as I have ever encountered, so I knew it would be at the top of my list when a portal opened for me into the magical realm of sock-knitting.

I bought a few experimental skeins of KnitPicks sock yarn too, in order to have some on hand. My purchases included two colorways of Imagination (hand-painted merino/alpaca/nylon, right), two colors of Risata (solid-toned cotton/wool/elastic, lower left), and one skein of Stroll Tonal (merino/nylon, upper left).

And I arranged for a "sock yarn petting-zoo" with my friends from a knitting group that gets together at the Barnes & Noble in Louisville twice a month or so. The experienced sock-knitters in the crew (i.e. everybody except me) went stash-diving and brought in sample skeins as well as finished socks in a whole variety of different yarns and fiber combinations, and then we spread them out on the table and discussed them one by one, drawing lots of comparisons and contrasts. It was so much fun!! I loved getting to see and touch and learn all about the different yarns from people in-the-know. I took notes. It was a fabulous hands-on experience, and by the end I felt a lot more confident about shopping for myself over the internet. I have a great big wish-list of sock-yarns now, as well as a growing queue of amazing patterns that I can see are in my future.

My not-too-distant future. WOW. Tenure means *socks*. Stay tuned for more...

Frejya at the Crossroads

2010-10-10T19:20:00.000-07:00

Some projects just seem to drag on and on for no good reason. My Frejya sweater is one such. I've been working on it — or more to the point NOT working on it — for several years now. Whenever I have actually managed to devote some time to it, the progress has come quickly, but then weeks or even months go by between sessions. It keeps happening. First I stalled over weaving in all the loose ends left behind by the intarsia on the front. That took forever! Then it was the embroidery and embellishment on the front, and some more loose ends on the back. Blah blah blah.

But today, knowing that with Stornoway finished I really have no excuse anymore, I finally put my foot down and made myself get through what needed to be done on the front. Or so I thought...

I was using eyelash yarn with duplicate stitch to give the cat "long hair". It is supposed to be a Maine Coon, after all. My plan was to add orange hairs to the body of the cat and ivory ones to the pale segments at the underside and extremities (chest, abdomen, paws). The *face* posed a real problem, though, because I soon realized that the dangling bits got in the way of the intarsia design and gave the whole thing a muddled appearance. So I had stopped short with the body basically done, while a debate raged internally (literally for months) over what to do next.

Last week I finally filled in the lower part of the abdomen with the ivory, but then on Friday and Saturday, when I tried to do the same with the upper chest, the result looked more like an old man's beard than a fluffy cat's neck ruff. *Ick*. So I took the embellishment away from the chest area. BIG improvement. And today, looking at the whole thing with the cold eye of reason, I came to the same conclusion about the paws, face, abdomen, and entire lower edge. After all that time spend trying to *add* stuff to the sweater in order to get it finished, in other words, today I took a whole bunch of stuff AWAY again. Go figure...

Here is what the "new & improved" front looks like (click for a larger view). Believe it or not, there is actually LESS embellishment on it now than there was a year ago. But at least you can see the adorable pussycat underneath it all, and the effect is more authentically Maine Coon-ish than before too, since the long hair is confined to the places where it would appear on a real cat. I could grumble all day and all night about why in the world it took me so @#$^!! long to decide that less is more, but the observation would be moot. Clearly I needed time, and a string of failed experiments, to reach this point. I will probably still use embroidery floss to outline the face and pick out certain details of the features (eyes, nose, ears, whiskers, claws, etc.). Or not, I suppose, depending on how it looks. But that final experiment means another trip to the craft store, and meanwhile I am done with the eyelash yarn. Huzzah!

Moreover, I am also done with the intarsia on the back of the sweater: a whimsical goldfish bowl motif for which I used some interesting textures (ribbon yarn held double for the fish scales, and a wonderful nubbly green yarn for the aquatic plant) in addition to the blue of the water (a different color of the same Wool of the Andes that is providing the black background) and the silver gray that represents the glass of the fishbowl (a bit of wool/rayon blend from my stash). As of this evening, the ends are all woven in too.

Which means that aside from the little bits of embellishment remaining to be added, which will have to wait for a shopping trip to purchase appropriate colors of embroidery floss (i.e. orange, rust, white, black, and ivory), and the cat's fluffy tail, which is a separate little knitting project all on its own, to be set aside for some afternoon/evening in the not-too-distant future, whenever I feel like it, it is now OFFICIALLY a matter of plain black stockinette knitting to finish the upper portion of the back and then the sleeves.

So we've really turned a crucial corner here. I feel totally confident now that this baby is going to be done done D-U-N DONE by Hallowe'en!!! :-)

"Holy fisherman's sweaters, Batman..."

2010-10-07T19:32:00.001-07:00

Brace yourselves, people. Not only am I channeling the silliest superhero sidekick of all time (as evidenced by the headline on this post). I actually feel like leaping for joy and doing a happy dance. For Stornoway (i.e. His part of The Great His & Hers Guernsey adventure, which began on July 11, 2009) is now 100% complete. I finished the second sleeve on October 3rd after about 3 1/2 weeks of pleasant and uneventful knitting, and immediately set the sweater to soak while I put together the brand new and quite literally shiny woolly board that I bought from Camilla Valley Farm with some of my birthday money (thanks, Mom!!).

This lovely piece of fiber-functional woodwork came completely disassembled, and although I found the assembly instructions very clear and easy to follow, it still took a while to figure out what went where and get all the hardware properly situated. When the moment arrived to place the sweater onto the frame, however, I was not even remotely prepared for how easy it would be to stretch it out. My experience with blocking lace — and having to apply torque on edging points with pins & blocking wires — had led me to expect something similar here, especially given the density and tight gauge of the fabric. In fact, the sweater basically stretched itself. I'm not kidding... All I had to do was drape it neatly along the upper crossbar, and gravity took care of the rest, ably assisted by the weight of the water that the wool had soaked up during its washing. Of course much of that liquid ran right to the bottom and started dripping all over the place, so I laid a towel across the base of the frame to catch the run-off. But the fabric required no additional persuasion and instead opened up naturally and effortlessly to its intended measurements. Truly remarkable.

Here are some photos of the sweater during blocking, including a couple of closeups taken after a day or two, as the fabric began to dry and the details of the textured patterning became more visible. As always, click on any of these images to get a closer look.

My husband has longish arms. I had already added about 1/4" to the ribbing at the cuffs of the sweater in an attempt to allow for this, although when he tried it on before blocking, the whole thing obviously needed so much stretching in all directions that it was hard to tell whether it really fit him or not. But after it had dried and I removed it from the frame, he tried it on again, and we verified that the sleeves were still a tad short, not a huge amount, but enough to warrant some attention. This was where the traditional guernsey design, with its sleeves knit downwards from the shoulders, showed its true genius, because there was nothing simpler than ripping out the bind-off, placing the 64 ribbing stitches back onto dpn's, and adding several extra inches to each cuff. I basically doubled the length of the ribbing (from 26 rows = 2 3/4=” to 50 rows = 5 1/4”), so that now he can fold them over and adjust their length however he likes. I certainly had plenty of yarn to make this modification to the pattern. In fact, the entire 3rd cone of the Frangipani 5-ply in the Cedar colorway remains untouched in my stash, along with the tail end of the 2nd one.

One effect of using a woolly board is that the ribbing gets stretched out, especially at the cuffs. One can easily re-soak the sweater's "extremities" after removal from the frame and allow them to dry unencumbered so that they will bounce back to their normal elasticity. I had been planning to do just that. But with the cuff extensions it was not necessary. I simply left the new portions unblocked, and when folded over, they hold everything nicely in place from the outside. I also made sure to bind off with a needle one size larger than I had used to knit the ribbing, so that the bottom edge would sit right.

Here are a couple of pictures of the end result, which do a good job of capturing the elusive gray-green too. As it turns out, DH & I both happen to think that the sweater looks better (i.e. more stylish and finished somehow) with folded cuffs than it did with plain ones. As I wrote on my Ravelry project page, mischief managed. :-)

I could not be more pleased with the way this project has turned out, or with the fact that completing it has officially lowered my WIP-count from 8 to *7*. WOOHOO!! Now to finish Frejya and Elm Row (perhaps by Hallowe'en??). That would allow me to reach my elusive goal of getting that number down to *5*. Muhahaha....

Stornoway: almost home!!

2010-10-03T07:16:00.000-07:00

I really don't know in all honesty quite *what* possessed me, in the summer of 2009, to launch *three* small-gauge sweater projects by the same renowned British designer with a penchant for brilliant yet meticulous details, but there it was. Before I fully realized what I had gotten myself into, I had Stornoway, Eriskay, and Peggy Tudor all going at once. A wise and perceptive friend of mine says she chalked it up at the time to the symptoms of "post-Princess withdrawal," and that explanation makes as much sense as any other. But with a trio of St*rmores on the needles, NO WONDER it's taking me so long to whittle away at my list of WIP's!!

Progress does come, though, bit by bit, if you work at it steadily enough. I couldn't quite bring myself to sit with a heavy pile of wool in my lap during July and most of August, but in the last couple of months I have managed to put in quite a bit of time on the sleeves of my husband's Stornoway, since of the three it was the closest to completion, with a real shot at being done in time for the upcoming winter.

And now — happily, happily, HAPPILY — it's almost there. The first sleeve was all done as of September 11th, and I have only 10 more patterned rounds left on the second one before the ribbing of the cuff. Sometime in the next few days, in other words, I am actually going to *finish* the project!! And then I can put my shiny new woolly board to good use and rejoice in the countdown from 8 WIP's to *7*. Not quite yet, but very soon...

Meanwhile, as proof of my bona fides (as Anna Russell used to say in the midst of her classic analysis of Wagner's Ring, "I'm not making this up, you know..."), here are some pictures of the first sleeve and its lovely gusset at various stages of completion. As always, click on any of these images to take a closer look.

This project has been a joy from start to finish, and can't wait to show it off, as the Great Guernsey Adventure continues.

Frosted Leaf Necklace

2010-10-02T11:37:00.000-07:00

In early August, my in-laws sent me a birthday check: $43. I will leave it to my clever readers to guess the reason for that peculiar amount. At any rate, I wanted to use it to buy something pretty but couldn't decide between yarn and jewelry. A familiar dilemma... Then I remembered the beaded jewelry kits from Earthfaire, which had intrigued me for a long time, although I had never quite gotten the nerve to take the plunge. This seemed like the perfect excuse, especially when I discovered the Frosted Leaf Necklace, the focal point of which is a genuine oak leaf, coated in sterling silver. I could not resist, since the house in CT where I grew up was nestled in the woods and surrounded by oak trees, with a state park on two sides of the property.

In addition to the leaf enhancer, the twig-shaped cross-bar that it hangs from, and a magnetic clasp, the kit consists of silver thread and 5 different types of beads: Matte Vitral Crystal daggers (basically pale green/tan, with a gentle metallic cast to them), 4 mm and 6 mm Twilight-Sapphire Fire Polish Crystals (pale purple with a fascinating smoky quartz overtone), Silver-Lined Crystal megatamas (pure and clear, like ice), and Silver-Lined Crystal AB 8/0 (like little soap bubbles, with a rainbow sparkle). The beads are threaded in advance in a particular sequence and then knitted into a self-twisting rope using 2.0 mm (US size 0) needles. There are enough materials for a 32" necklace (i.e. a 16" strand on either side), but Ellen says right on the website that she thinks "shorter looks better," and given my own smallish stature, I knew I would end up with lots of leftovers. So I went ahead and purchased an additional silver leaf-clasp to make a matching bracelet, and some sterling earring findings as well. So far, however, I have just the necklace done. Here are some pictures. As always, click on any of these photos to take a closer look.

WIP count on Ravelry = *8* and holding. This was a very quick project and extremely enjoyable. I spent a contended hour stringing the beads and another ~90 minutes knitting the strands and attaching the findings. My necklace was 12.5" top-to-bottom at first, and then after wearing it a bit, I shortened it even further (to 11"), so that the leaf would hang at the right spot on my breastbone. It makes a VERY striking statement. Such fun to wear!! I look forward to fashioning the additional pieces and pursuing other beaded jewelry projects in the future. :-)

I'm BAAAAAAACK... with the end-of-summer wrap-up!!

2010-10-01T07:11:00.000-07:00

*TWO* MONTHS??! Wow. I knew it had been quite a while since my last blog post, and that in the interim I had completed my tenure dossier, a new school year had started, and a whole lot of other momentous things had happened around our household, including a flea tsunami that engulfed our 100% indoor cat and rabbit population (go figure...), and the arrival of two little rescue kittens (4-5 weeks old), who turned out to have ringworm, a fungal infection that is terribly contagious to cats and rabbits, and to humans as well. So in the last two weeks, just as the flea situation was finally getting under control, we have had to implement a vigorous new regimen of quarantine procedures to protect ourselves and our other pets while the ringworm decontamination runs its course. There are now "plague kittens" by the names of Ghost and Goblin holed up in what used to be my bathroom.

In other words, I have had a lot on my mind lately. Along the way I have been knitting a fair bit, although not as continually as I did in June and July. I have also been keeping track of my progress on Ravelry, and even posting the occasional picture on my project pages. I received a generous birthday check from my mother in early August, which led to the purchase of many yummy and long-coveted things, including yarn and pattern books and even a woolly board, about which there will be more to say eventually. But in all honesty I did not realize how long I had managed to let the blog lie fallow while all of this was happening. It nagged at me, though. I kept telling myself to do something about it and not quite getting around to it, and time just kept going by...

Apropos of which, I learned something interesting a day or two ago. Apparently Mark Twain did not say, "The rumors of my demise have been exceedingly exaggerated," as I have so often heard it quoted in various contexts. What he really wrote (and you can click here for an image of the actual handwritten page) was this: "James Ross Clemens, a cousin of mine, was seriously ill two or three weeks ago in London, but is well now. The report of my illness grew out of his illness. The report of my death was an exaggeration."

Fascinating tidbit, yes? And having set the record straight, let's see what we can do to breathe some life into this blog of mine. Ever since the completion of the wedding gift in late July, my energies have been concentrated on continuing to wrap up as many WIP's as possible, and delightfully, we can now check three more items off my long list of unfinished projects.

I. The "Other" Niebling

The first thing that I did, knitting-wise, when we got home from the wedding at the end of July was to go back and finish up the other Niebling square. This was originally meant as practice for the wedding gift, in white no. 10 crochet cotton as opposed to the silvery gossamer silk, but I had to abandon it partway through, because there were only 3 weeks left until the wedding day and I needed all of that time to finish the "echt object" in good order. I had gotten through the first chart (rows 1-90), though, so all the cotton square needed was the 42 edging rows, which took only a few days. I had known all along that it was going to be a substantial piece, just from the heft of it on the needles and the fact that it used up two full balls (= 800 yards!!) of the thread. But nonetheless I was amazed to see it block out to a full 36" square. Here are some photos of the finished object, which brought my total # of WIP's on Ravelry down to *10* once more, where it had been before the onset of the two Niebling projects. As always, click on any of these images to take a closer look.

I would like to display this piece of lace in my home someday, if I can just find a way to put it under glass and away from those mischievous kitty claws!! ;-)

II. Candlelight Kimono

At one point I had been hoping to wear my scaled-down rendition of this sweater to some part of the wedding festivities, in order to show off my handiwork that was nearly two decades in the making, but the intricacies of the Niebling project — which clearly took priority — soon put paid to that idea. On our return home, I had the back all done and the lace section of the two fronts as well, which meant that I still had to finish the fronts and knit the sleeves (including Japanese short-rows, which were a new technique for me), then block all the pieces stretched out flat, and carefully sew the whole thing together. The pattern called for the back neckband to be knitted as a strip and sewn in place, but instead I used a technique similar to the one by which a perpendicular edging is grafted onto the live stitches of a lace shawl.

It took several weeks and some painstaking work to complete the project, but I was absolutely THRILLED with the end results. I felt especially proud of the sewing job that I did, because the seams turned out nearly perfectly, giving the sweater just enough structure to show off the magnificent drape of the silk fabric. All the loose ends also had to be invisibly tacked down by hand on the wrong side of the fabric. The photo gallery includes a picture of the sweater when worn, which was shot from below (because I stood up while my husband with the camera was sitting down) and thus emphasizes my natural curves to an unusual degree. But I think the glowing smile on my face pretty much says it all. For of course I now had only *9* WIP's left on Ravelry. Getting that vital number into the single digits felt really, really good. As always, click on any of these images for a closer view.

III. Fiddlehead Mittens

Adrian Bizilia's Fiddlehead Mittens are ENORMOUSLY popular, with 1068 projects currently listed on Ravelry. It's not hard to understand why either, because they make for a relatively quick and easy knit. The clever stranded design incorporates traditional elements and yet has a snazzy contemporary feel, and the pattern leaves lots of room for creativity in the selection and arrangement of colors. The luxurious lining is just icing on the cake (or perhaps more aptly filling in the jellyroll, given its position on the inside rather than the outside), adding a sybaritic extra layer to the stranded fabric that is already pretty cushy by itself.

I made the outside of my first mitten way back in March, but then it got too hot to think about snuggly warm things anymore, or so I told myself. I certainly would not have any use for them until the depths of winter anyway, so I waited until the mood was right to finish the job. Oddly enough, despite the heat, the moment arrived in late August, right before school started, when I had a brief window of opportunity to blitz through the remaining steps in quick succession — 2nd mitten body, 2nd thumb, 1st lining, 2nd lining — and check off another completed project from my list, bringing the total # of WIP's on Ravelry down to an eminently manageable *8* (where the tally stands to this day). The mittens fit me perfectly, cozy and comfy on my small hands and not too much like giant oven mitts, since I went down a needle-size from the pattern specs to make sure that the gauge would be just right. The jewel-toned yarn on the outside is Swedish wool from my stash, purchased long ago (Borgs Vävgarner S.N.2 garn), and the lining is buttery soft alpaca from KnitPicks (Andean Treasure).

Here is the third and final photo gallery for this post, showing my Fiddleheads in all their matching glory. As always, click on any of these images to take a closer look.

As this last photo shows, if you look closely, each mitten laid flat is nearly an inch thick!! I am SERIOUSLY looking forward to the sovereign protection that these mittens will provide for my hands on those frozen winter walks to and from campus. Bring it on, Boreas...

Faith, Hope, and Love: A Wedding Gift To Remember

2010-07-27T07:08:00.000-07:00

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
— I Corinthians 13:13 (English Standard Version).

It was a close thing, but by averaging ~5% of the project per day over ~20 days, I managed to finish the rectangular lace piece in gossamer silk for my sister-in-law and her new husband and to have it blocked and dried in time for our trip to the wedding. What a relief!

As mentioned in this previous blog post, the pattern came from the book Knitted Lace Designs of Herbert Niebling, as shown on p. 87 (charts on pp. 88-91). Although the design in question might or might not itself be a genuine Niebling, it is certainly a splendid example of German Kunststriken ("Art Knitting") from the second half of the 20th century. The yarn was Gossamer Silk from Heirloom Knitting. Since my sister-in-law with her undeniably "WASP-ish" ethnic heritage was marrying a man from Brazil, it was in keeping with the international flavor of the wedding that I chose that scrumptious silk fiber which is cultivated in Japan, spun in Italy, and sold from the UK. Michael at HK was kind enough to answer my questions about the provenance.

We arranged for the newlyweds to open the gift at the brunch hosted by the bride's parents on the day after the wedding, mostly so that I would get to see their long-anticipated reactions. I have developed the habit of typing up a cheat-sheet to go along with each knitted lace item that I give as a gift. This is partly to inform the recipient of the lifetime guarantee that should it need washing (or, God forbid, repair) it need only be sent back to me, since I have all the required blocking tools. But it also allows me to share various informative background details about the yarn, the colorway, the designer, the pattern, etc. My sister-in-law read the description out loud to the assembled friends and family, and she choked up a bit when she got to this part:

The pattern does not have an official name, but I chose the title from 1 Corinthians 13 (see above), because if you examine the motifs, you will see crosses (for Faith), leaves and flowers (for Hope), and heart shapes (for Love). The construction of the piece is also laden with wedding imagery, in that it starts as two separate squares, each knitted outward from the center until they reach a sufficient size. Then they are seamlessly grafted together and the elaborate edging is worked all the way around the outside of the resulting rectangle. So two pieces that began each with a life of its own become one and in the process create something new and beautiful together, just as the two of you are doing this weekend as you start your married life.

The finished dimensions of the piece were a generous 25" x 40". It started out, as indicated, with two separate but identical squares, which were then grafted together. Given my previous adventures with grafting lace, I was thrilled with the near-invisibility of this attempt, aided by the fact that the pattern at that point was nothing but stitch, yarn-over, stitch, yarn-over, etc. Near the start of the edging pattern, having noticed that the stitch count did not change over the course of the 42-row chart, I switched from 1.75 mm (US size 00) needles to the next size up (2.0 mm = US size 0) to help the fabric open up when blocked. In addition, the blocking process was GREATLY facilitated by the chain-stitch loops conveniently running all the way around the outer edge as a result of the laborious and time-consuming crochet bind-off (for which I used a 1.65 mm crochet hook).

Knowing that I was about to give the piece away and that it would be moving to Brazil with the newlyweds, I took lots of pictures while I still had it in my custody. Here is a gallery of my favorites. Feel free to click on any of these images, as always, to get a closer look. I should add that I did not have time to weave in all the loose ends until we reached Baltimore, where I managed to snatch a few productive hours sitting in our hotel room between family gatherings. So the occasional stray thread appears in these photos, taken before we left home.

One final note... This last photo was taken by another sister-in-law at the post-wedding brunch. It shows the newlyweds veiled behind the piece as they held it up for everyone to see while I pointed out and explained some of the motifs of the lace pattern to them. So yes, that's me on the right in the black sundress that didn't always zip up so easily. ;-)

Evenstar: Blocking Magic, Perilous Repairs, and a VERY Happy Ending

2010-07-26T08:58:00.000-07:00

Busy with summer travel and projects on a deadline, I have been rather neglecting the blog lately. So let's see what we can do to get caught up ASAP...

The big news that has been waiting the longest to be posted is that I finally finished the Evenstar on June 30th. The beaded edging had been dragging along for weeks, a few points at a time, until I reached the halfway point, and then a sudden spurt got the rest done in a matter of *days*. I was eager to see the end of it. Since it was my first circular shawl, I felt nervous about trying to block it, but a coil of spring wire borrowed from my trusty friend Anita (a.k.a. The Fiber Artist) made the whole process a no-brainer. Once I had threaded the wire through the edging points and pinned it out to stretch the fabric, a length of cotton yarn pinned to the center helped ensure that the radius was consistent all the way around. It came out to a diameter of 57". Here are some photos taken while it was still on the wires, including several wide shots and a closeup of the beaded edging. As always, you may click on any of these photos to see a larger view.

Only one aspect of the finishing on this project left me displeased, and that was the graft where the edging came full-circle. Grafting is never a relaxing or foolproof process even under the best of circumstances (hah!!), and this time I admittedly let it bunch up in places, especially when weaving in the ends, because I simply did not realize how much the fabric would open out when blocked. It turns out that there was ZERO room for error, so that every extra strand showed up like a searchlight in the night sky. The result was really quite ugly (see left and click for a closer look, if you can stomach it).

I tried to persuade myself that this was a minor flaw that others would overlook, but I found my eye so unerringly drawn towards it when I tried to look at the big picture that I decided it would bother ME even if no one else ever spotted the defect. So I set out to fix it, taking some time to think out a careful plan before attempting the repair.

The first step was to locate and untie the anchoring knot at the point where the edging meets the shawl. Once the right threads were loose (a surprisingly effortless process), it was easy to undo the graft and restore the live stitches on both sides, using strands of crochet cotton to serve as flexible stitch holders. I removed a single row on one side so that the graft would result in a full repeat of the edging pattern without adding anything extra. It took several tries to fiddle the loops into place, advance planning and preparation notwithstanding, and I finally had to call a halt to further manipulation for fear of over-handling the yarn. The faggoting on the inside edge proved especially tricky. Here are two photos that document the "during" and "after" of the repair. What I ended up with is still hardly the most perfect or inconspicuous graft in the history of lace knitting, but definitely represents an improvement over the original ugly blob. Hooray, and PHEW!!

This is most definitely a shawl to be WORN and ENJOYED. The fabric is robust as well as airy (thanks to the combination of alpaca and silk fiber in the KnitPicks Shimmer), and it feels luxuriously soft to the touch. I wore it several times to great effect during the festivities associated with my sister-in-law's wedding in Baltimore last weekend. No relevant photos from there have surfaced as of yet, but today I dressed up in my outfit from the rehearsal dinner for a home photo shoot, to be sure I would have something to share. Here are my two favorite shots (one front, one back). I just love the way the circle of lace makes its own perfect little collar when you fold it down on one side and drape it over your shoulders.

Now that's what I call a happy ending!! :-)

Loose ends had better watch out!!

2010-07-01T08:02:00.000-07:00

I have just acquired a whole ARSENAL of weapons in the never-ending war on loose ends. They will also be useful for delicate repairs in lace and fingering-weight yarns. In other words: *jackpot*!!

It would seem that the Meijer store in Jeffersonville, IN is closing down its needlework department. Truth be told, although we shop there regularly, I never even realized that it *had* a needlework department. In any case, their inventory appears to have been rather limited, so while I do feel a pang of regret at the sadly shrinking market, the absence of this particular shopping outlet is no big loss to me and will have precisely zero impact on my access to tools and supplies — except, of course, for the fact that the day before yesterday I stumbled upon the closeout sale, where I managed to pick up this little treasure for a mere $3.

The crochet hooks are stainless steel, in six sizes ranging from 1.3 to 3.25 mm, with lovely narrow heads that are ideally suited for picking up stray loops one at a time without splitting the plies.

Other than the two tiny tools that I use for beading (0.5 mm for 8/0 beads and 1.0 mm for 6/0 ones), until recently the smallest crochet hook in my trusty array (all bought during the 1970's and 80's) was an old 3.25 mm one from the same brand as the new kit (i.e. Boye). I also recently got new aluminum hooks in US sizes C (2.75 mm) and D (3.25 mm), but lovely as they are, those have wide heads that make them difficult to use with finer strands of yarn. They are better for DK or sport-weight, or even worsted. So in other words, I just filled in a big gap in my tool box.

Score one for the good guys. :-)

Evenstar Edging Endgame

2010-06-27T16:58:00.001-07:00

After weeks of slow and intermittent progress, I finally passed the halfway point on the Evenstar edging last Thursday. What a relief!! And then I began to realize just how close to the end I had come. A switch seemed to flick somewhere in my brain, and the next thing I knew, I found myself locked in a marathon push to the finish line over this weekend. I guess I must have decided that the project has simply gone on long enough. That, and a certain lack of enthusiasm about picking up double-pointed needles again for the second square of the Niebling project...

But whatever the reason, the GOOD NEWS here is that I now have only *8* points to go. Here's proof (see left, and click for a closer look). The photo doesn't show off the sparkly beads very well, but I think it gets the point across.

According to my official summer timetable, I only needed to have the Evenstar finished by mid-July, just in time for my sister-in-law's wedding. But what seems to be happening is that this task and getting a new start on the Unst stole have both jumped the queue a bit, which means that my goals for the kimono, the Frejya sweater, and Eriskay (all slated for end-of-June completion) will just have to switch places. It can all wait until July, and if as a result a few of the things on the August list get postponed until September, I won't lose much sleep either. There was nothing carved in stone about the list anyway, and as long as I keep making demonstrable progress I won't have any regrets. The other thing mitigating any potential guilt right now is that my list made no mention of the Niebling wedding gift, which has turned out to be a rather larger project than I had reckoned. So we are in pretty good shape. :-)

My Niebling Adventure Begins

2010-06-26T06:13:00.000-07:00

Herbert Niebling (1905-1966) was a master of German Kunststriken or "Art Knitting," who brought us the famous Lyra pattern and many other fancy doilies and tablecloths. Many of his designs feature elaborate flowers and/or foliage in fascinating geometric arrangements, and he is said to have had the unusual gift of being able to look at something (e.g. a vase of flowers) and translate what he saw directly into lace knitting. Read more about Niebling here.

The patterns were originally published in European magazines, which made them extremely hard to come by in the US market for a long time, until the spate of recent republications instigated by and/or available from Lacis in Berkeley, CA. Rare copies of the original Lyra once sold on ebay for $100's, but now the Lacis reprint is available for a mere $7. There is also the book called Knitted Lace Designs of Herbert Niebling, an English translation of Eva Maria Leszner's 1986 Gestrickte Spitzendecken. I have learned that the English title is a misnomer, in that many of the patterns are in fact *not* actual Nieblings. But positively verifying such attributions can be an impossible task, partly because the original published patterns often do not include the name of the designer for each piece, but also because there was in fact a Niebling "school" or design team that worked under his name and stylistic influence, like the ateliers of the Renaissance.

So there has been an explosion of Niebling work in the English-speaking world in recent years, with the formation of at least one Yahoo group and much activity on Ravelry, etc. It has become quite popular to knit doily patterns at a larger gauge so that they can be worn as shawls: Lacefreak's purple Lyra is a lovely example, marked as a Ravelry "favorite" by nearly 800 people to-date. I bought the Lyra pattern and the Leszner book last year, along with a cone of Gossamer Silk from Heirloom Knitting in stunning silver (see left), in hopes of starting a Niebling adventure of my own. And with a family wedding coming up in mid-July to serve as the excuse, I decided that the time had come to make it happen.

For the wedding gift I chose a rectangular design (shown on p. 87 of the Leszner book), consisting of two identical squares that are grafted together down one side before an elaborate border/edging is worked all the way around the outside. It may or may not be an authentic Niebling design, but it has enough complex elements to it so as not to be a dull knit, and I can interpret a fair bit of wedding imagery out of it as well. I decided to do a single practice square first, with no. 10 crochet cotton and 2.75 mm (US size 2) needles, to be sure that I understood the chart. I used up an entire ball (400 yards) of the crochet cotton just on the main chart!!

The original plan was to finish the cotton piece before even touching the silk, but then part way along I suddenly realized that the wedding was only 3 weeks away (yikes!!), and so I reluctantly laid the practice piece aside with its edging incomplete. And then there were (*sigh*) thirteen... Then again, a case could be made to consider the cotton and the silk together as a single project rather than two separate ones. And both are short-term investments rather that will not become permanent fixtures on the WIP list. I fully intend to finish the cotton one ASAP, both as a matter of principle but also because it will give me something to keep, since I am giving the silk version away. Here are a few pictures of the crochet cotton at different stages, starting with dpn's and moving to a circular needle.

Notice the little brown pelican stitch marker in that last picture? I originally commissioned four pelicans, two white and two brown, from Jillian at Wee Ones, as a tribute to my maiden name (Pelikan), but working on this piece and thinking about recent headlines I discovered that the emblem could also serve as a meditation focus or prayer bead for the Gulf Coast oil spill, which made the knitting that much more meaningful.

The silk version has taken up the preponderance of my knitting time this whole past week. In fact, I have done very little else, because I am eager to finish it in plenty of time without any last-minute panic or midnight marathons. Just last night I finished the first of the two squares, which means that I am right on schedule and ~30% done with the piece as a whole. I am working with 1.75 mm (US size 00) needles, which is a step up from the 1.5 mm (US size 000) that I used for the Princess Shawl and other CashSilk projects. I could have chosen the smaller size for this project too, but I wanted to ensure that the lace would really open up. The fabric will require some serious blocking, of course, but I think it is going to shape up nicely and will make a big impression as a wedding gift. Fingers crossed...

Here are some pictures of the silk square as a work-in-progress, with knitting notes below. I have been photographing it against both pale and dark backgrounds, because the varying contrasts show off the lace in different ways (color vs. pattern). As always, click on any of the images to take a closer look.

Casting on in a circle with the tiny, slippery silk thread was a veritable nightmare at first. But after trying several “clever” new methods of circular-cast-on with the gossamer yarn to no good effect, I finally adopted an old-school approach, especially because the silk was likely to break when attempting to adjust a slip-ring at the center. So I got out my 1.0 mm crochet hook, made a fixed ring of 6 tiny chain stitches, placed the live loop onto a dpn, pulled a new stitch through the chain loop with the crochet hook and transferred it to the dpn (= 2 stitches), wrapped the yarn around the dpn once (= 3 stitches), then created another stitch with the crochet hook through the chain loop (= 4 stitches), and so on, until I had 16 stitches, which was 1/2 the desired amount. I then knit one row plain (figuring that the gossamer yarn could handle an extra mm or two near the center), then a row of knitting into the front and back of every stitch to double the count, then two rows plain as per the pattern, before starting the chart with row 3. Worked like a charm, and felt like a huge accomplishment.

In rows 3-15 the pattern calls for a number of crossed stitches (really mini-cables) in adjacent pairs, and the one modification that I made to the chart as written was to angle these away from each other for symmetry, rather than crossing them all in the same direction. It was a bit of a nuisance, but my friendly crochet hook proved its usefulness yet again, by serving as the world’s most convenient cable needle. One more floppy stick was the last thing I wanted in the midst of 5 dpn’s on that tiny scale!! Fortunately, though, I got through those early rows relatively fast.

My 1.75 mm dpn's are fully 8" long, and so I had originally acquired only 24" and 32" circular needles in that size, which meant that I was not able to take the first square off the dpn's until after 31 rows (when it would finally fit on the 24" circular). The slippery silk made some serious ladders at the junctions between needles. I don’t know if these will eventually block out or not, or maybe part way, but since they are evenly placed on all four sides of the square I keep telling myself that they will not detract from the finished product in any case, provided that both conjoined squares match. So even though I ordered both a 16" circular needle in the 1.75 mm size, and even a 12" one as well, I will probably use the dpn’s for the first 31 rows of the second square as well and save my new shorter-circumference circs for future projects, of which there are bound to be many. ;-)

When the first square was finished, I transferred it to a crochet cotton lifeline so that I could see what the pattern looked like (and get pictures) and to facilitate the grafting process as well. The latter should not pose an insurmountable difficulty, since it thankfully involves only single stitches alternating with yo loops. And once it is done, I will place the remaining live stitches from both squares onto the 32” circular needle for the edging. I deliberately postponed the last row of plain knitting from the main chart, so that the graft can take the place of it down the center seam, and so that I can use it to establish the unified path all the way around the outside of the rectangle prior to starting the edging chart.

One little footnote: the only other knitting that I have managed to squeeze in around all this Niebling lace is the Evenstar, where I am happy (and relieved) to report that I now have 30 out of 56 edging points complete. It felt really good to pass the halfway point at last, and to empty the first container of beads as well. Progress... My goal is to wear the shawl to the same wedding where the Niebling will be a gift. So far, so good.

Progress Report (1 week later): 3-1+1 = SUCCESS

2010-06-15T12:15:00.000-07:00

My stated goals for the opening bout of summer knitting after the landmark "12 weeks/12 projects" post were three-fold: finish the stained glass bag and the back of the Candlelight Kimono, and keep working on the beaded edging for the Evenstar.

Well... After getting through the first task in short order (obviously enough), I then went out of town for the long weekend to attend my 25th high school reunion, which was also remarkably the 350th anniversary of the school's founding back in 1660. I actually wore the bag to the reunion. You can see it peeping out in various photos that people have posted. So that felt like a significant victory.

I am also happy to report that I managed to stay on track over the weekend and have now completed the back of the kimono and gotten started the two fronts, which I decided to knit side-by-side in aid of the symmetrical shaping at waist and neckline. Here are some pictures as proof that I am not just telling make-believe stories. Click on any one of them to take a closer look.

I decided for a bunch of reasons (mainly luggage constraints and for the sake of practicality) not to travel with any beaded lace projects, and so I did not make any progress on the Evenstar over the weekend. But I DID bring along the Unst stole, and I was able to work on it quite extensively en route in both directions and in between as well.

It felt a bit awkward at first, picking it up after so long a hiatus. I definitely had to re-familiarize the muscles in my fingers with the tiny movements demanded by knitting with gossamer yarn and 1.5 mm (US size 000 needles). So I started by tinking back several rows, partly to make sure that I knew exactly where I was on the chart, and also to get used to handling it again. But by the time I had made my connection and embarked on the second leg of my journey on Thursday afternoon, I was already moving forward with confidence. And when I landed yesterday at my home airport, I had added several inches to the unblocked length of the piece. To put it another way, I stopped knitting a year ago with 4 out of 9 repeats of the modified center pattern complete (see left, which is a closeup from an old photo rather than a whole new one), and I am now 3/4 of the way through the *6th* pattern repeat. LOTS of happy progress!! Other projects are beckoning and will have to take priority in the next 2-3 weeks, but nonetheless I would be very pleased to finish the center and move on to the border patterns by the end of this month.

All of which means that I set out last week to do three things, and did two of them plus another unexpected one that was slated to happen soon. So I hereby officially proclaim this first bout of knitting a success.

Stained Glass!!

2010-06-09T09:40:00.000-07:00

People talk about instant gratification a lot, but the delayed kind has its merits too. :-)

I am getting to experience it firsthand today, because I just finished the Ravelympics Stained Glass felted bag. FINALLY. It admittedly needed only a lining and handles at this stage, but it had also been sitting around here since *February* waiting for me to get those two jobs done. The problem was that I needed to clear a solid block of time for the cutting and sewing, preferably during daylight hours, and that simply proved impossible in the springtime, while school was still in session. Hooray for summer knitting. "Tantantara! Tzing, boom!"

Technical procedures were as follows...

The lining would have posed a nice little challenge for any seamstress, what with no real pattern and all those fussy curves to consider. But I had been thinking it over for the last several months and came to the task as a Woman with a Plan. Focusing on the basic shapes first, and leaving room both for seam allowances and for eventually trimming the top edge to fit, I began by cutting out two rectangles 18” wide x 12” tall, and a circle roughly 12” in diameter to match the popcorn can on which the bag had been stretched to dry after felting. After sewing the rectangles together to form a tube and pressing both side seams, I attached the circle to the base of the tube with another seam running around the lower edge. Then I cut two strips of fusible interfacing to go across the top edges, between the side seams. The designer’s instructions suggest using an old CD to help create a pattern for the scalloped outline on the interfacing, and that technique worked well, with a little fiddling. Once I had positioned the interfacing and fused it to the wrong side of the lining (and NOT to the press cloth, as I have mistakenly done once or twice before), I trimmed the top of the lining fabric along the established curves, but just outside them, to form a seam allowance. Last, I carefully hand-sewed the lining to the inside of the bag, folding the raw edges under and making the stitches as neat and well-nigh-invisible as I could.

Truth be told, I might have wished the measurements and shaping to be even more precise than I managed, but thankfully the process was forgiving, and the end result actually looks quite professional, if I do say so myself. I think the lining compliments the felted wool nicely, both in texture and in color. So I promise to keep my perfectionist grumbling dialed down to a minimum. Here are some photos, including one that shows the side and bottom seams, as described. For a closer peak at any image, just click on it, as always.

Then came the handles. I weighed my options at first but ended up making i-cord, as per the original specs, although I used 7 stitches instead of just 6 for something just a tad more substantial. Each strap measured 32" before felting and 28" after, which is the perfect length IMHO. The Brown Sheep wool always felts beautifully, and it was very convenient to deal with the handles separately from the bag, as my extended time-frame demanded, because I could easily soak them for as long as necessary to make them good and solid, with virtually zero stretch. Anchoring them in place with black button thread was a mere bagatelle by comparison with the stitching required for the lining, and then suddenly the project was finished. Voilà.

A footnote: before attaching the handles to this bag, given its shape, one must first decide how the fan shapes across the top should be aligned when it lies flat. In all the designer's photos for the Bar Harbor Shell Bag (this pattern) and the Stained Glass Fan Bag (which is very similar), the midpoint front and back comes at the low trough between two fans. The latter is often highlighted with a button closure, and the handles are attached in the adjacent troughs. It makes for a very pleasing arrangement, but as a result the fan in each upper corner, left and right, is folded in half, wrapping around the side of the bag. I decided, however, that there should be three full fans uppermost, rather than two fans and two halves, in order to show off the vibrant pinks and reds of that top row to best advantage. So I opted to place troughs at the side edges instead. That leaves a bump in the middle and no convenient spot for a button, but I don't mind, because I was planning to leave the top of the bag open anyway. I should add that the project galleries on Ravelry for both M. Langan bag patterns show a WIDE variation in the type of handles used and in their placement, which means that I am not alone in taking some minor liberties.

In conclusion, I have been gratified and humbled by the positive feedback that this project received both during and after the Ravelympics. Then again, speaking for myself I almost cannot believe how amazingly well the color scheme turned out. It is every bit as elaborate and subtle and harmonious as I had imagined it could be. Yet for all that, and as much as I will cherish this bag and enjoy using it whenever the opportunity arises — starting this weekend at my 25th HS reunion — I would be loathe to make another one like it.

Don't get me wrong: Madeline Langan's design is a marvel of shape and texture and clever construction, even just from a technical viewpoint. But she calls for only two colors per fan, not FIVE, as I had throughout. I am still in recovery from weaving in all those ends!! So if I were ever to repeat the pattern, I would choose a narrower color palette, and I would seriously consider using single shades of Brown Sheep (or the equivalent), as I did with my zippered accessory pouch, instead of the multi-colored Noro Kureyon, so as to avoid having to carve up skeins and sorting through all the random, tiny snippets. But whereas that is a distant, hypothetical possibility, and no more, I now have a brand new knitted treasure to enjoy, and it is right here in front of me. Mmmm. :-)

And then there were... *ELEVEN*...

P.S. Rules Governing New Projects

2010-06-08T07:29:00.000-07:00

This photo shows my yarn and fabric stash as it appeared a year ago. I am proud to say that several of those bins are noticeably emptier now...

In my previous post, setting out lofty goals for an ambitious program of summer knitting, I made quite sure to couch them as "more what you'd call guidelines than actual rules" (as they say in the Pirates of the Caribbean), so that I can easily let myself off the hook if any aspect(s) of the plan should turn out to be a little *too* ambitious. I needed that for the sake of preserving my mental health.

I also deliberately phrased the central statement thus: "I have decided to dedicate the bulk of my summer knitting this year to wrapping up as many works-in-progress as I can." Notice the word "bulk" (conveniently highlighted here), as in "majority" or "lion's share," i.e. as opposed to something like "sum" or "entirety" or "whole."

I want to be very clear that even in the midst of striving to shrink the overall number of WIP's, I am *NOT* actually forbidding myself to launch a few new projects here and there along the way. I know of at least one such that will be coming later this month for sure — a gossamer lace doily to be a wedding gift for my sister-in-law and her fiancé, who are getting married in mid-July — and I have other items in the queue that I am eager to get on with ASAP, including some alterations to a sweater that I made for my husband last year. But obviously I can't afford any wanton proliferation here either, if I am indeed serious about shrinking that prodigious pile of existing projects.

So... Here are some self-imposed guidelines (*ahem*) for any new projects that I might contemplate adding to the list in the next few months. It makes sense to categorize things as follows:

NO NEW SWEATERS, period, until four of the current five are complete, and then no more than two at a time ever again (if I can manage it, hehe);
no new hand-warmers until the Fiddlesticks Mittens are complete, and then no more than one pair at a time;
no socks until tenure(!!), and then never more than one pair at a time, preferably alternating with hand-warmers rather than in tandem with them (this general principle with regard to fancy knitted footwear, which I will outline more fully in an upcoming post, has LONG been a personal by-word of mine, and I see no reason to change it now, especially with tenure on the horizon for the coming year);
no new beaded lace projects until the Evenstar and two more of the current four are complete, and then no more than two at a time ever again (why not give it a try, hein?);
no more than one small-scale gossamer lace project (i.e. doily or swatch/sampler) at a time and no new large-scale ones until the Unst stole is complete, then no more than one of each at any time thereafter;
no net increase in the number of projects for the foreseeable future, so that for instance I must finish the stained glass bag before starting the aforementioned wedding gift, which is in the small-scale gossamer lace category (see above), and so on.

I think that covers the important bases. I could sit here all day stipulating various rules to micro-manage my activities even further, but the central point is to keep whittling away at the number of projects in each category AND at the overall total, until we reach a manageable level, where I will then strive to maintain the status quo. There will have to be checks and balances too. If I were to max out all the various limits that I have set in each category, I could end up with as many as seven different projects at once (= 2 sweaters + 1 handwarmer/sock + 2 beaded lace + 2 gossamer lace items), but I would ideally like to see things settle down closer to *five* in all. Let's see how it goes...

"In the first week of summer, a knitter on a spree made progress with these WIP's..."

2010-06-08T00:27:00.001-07:00

*TWELVE*.

That's how many weeks are left now until school starts again at the end of August.

It's also how many WIP's (i.e. works-in-progress) I currently have piled up on my Ravelry profile. I just took total stock for the first time in a while. Eeeep!! Obviously there's no one else to blame for this over-exuberance. I let it happen, and I am not afraid to admit that. Yet even though I saw myself giving into a certain amount of "start-itis" over the past couple of months, I never meant to let it get quite so much out of hand. I guess that's what comes from not really keeping count of new projects, or more accurately from discounting (i.e. ignoring) certain long-term ongoing — I suppose the technical term is hibernating— ones.

But however this absurd / lamentable / crazy-making state of affairs came about, there is clearly no good reason why it should be allowed to continue. So... I have decided to dedicate the bulk of my summer knitting this year to wrapping up as many works-in-progress as I can. One of them I actually expect to finish as soon as today or tomorrow, and several more by the end of this month. July and then August will each see their share of completions in turn as well. Yet tempting as it might seem to do some simplistic math and set up an elaborate, regimented scheme for getting them *all* done by the end of the summer (e.g. 12 projects / 12 weeks = 1 project per week on average), I WILL NOT GO THERE. It would be silly, unrealistic, and joy-killing in the extreme to put that kind of undue pressure on myself. The projects are at different stages of development, ranging from 95% complete to just getting started. Some of them will no doubt continue into the fall/winter and beyond, but the goal is to make demonstrable headway on each and every one of them in the next dozen weeks.

Plain old common sense dictates that I adopt such a plan, and there is a financial incentive too. I would like to avoid undue expenditures wherever possible, and it should be easy to stay on track with so much already in the works to keep me occupied sans new purchases. I do have a wish-list, of course (what knitter doesn't?), most notably including Silk Thread or maybe Silk Thread II from Blue Moon Fiber Arts in one of the Raven colorways for Anne Hanson's Irtfa'a farose shawl and Gossamer CashSilk from Heirloom Knitting in *black*, which they recently made available partly at my urging. I would also like to acquire a woolly board for the guernseys when the time comes. But all of these things can wait until August, when I should have some birthday money to throw around.

Meanwhile there are these twelve ongoing projects spread out here in front of me, including five lace pieces (four beaded and one gossamer), five sweaters, a pair of colorwork mittens, and a felted bag. My goals for each of them are as follows. Click on any of the image thumbnails to get a closer look...

[1] At the very top of the list, because it is the closest of the entire bunch to being 100% finished, comes my Ravelympics 2010 Stained Glass Felted Bag. It was all but wrapped up back in February, needing only a lining and shoulder straps to pronounce it "D-U-N done." I even purchased some appropriately cheerful lavender lining fabric weeks ago, but then I did not get a chance to tackle the actual cutting and sewing until just yesterday. It was a tricky little bit of seamstress work, if I do say so myself, and I will devote an entire post to the finishing process, also including the knitting, felting, and attachment of the shoulder straps, as soon as the project is successfully completed. It will be nice to check off at least one item right away. :-)

[2] The second item is actually new to the blog. Somehow I never got around to mentioning it, but right after the Ravelympics I started a pair of the ever-popular Fiddlehead Mittens using some jewel-toned Borgs Vävgarner S.N. 2 garn from the depths of my stash. I got the body of one mitten done in short order and ordered some yummy alpaca yarn for the linings, before my life became too hectic and the weather too warm to think about mittens anymore. So I put the project away for a while. The first one did not take more than a day or two to knit, though, so I will get the second one finished at some point during the summer, whenever the mood strikes, and then try to have them both lined and ready to wear before the snow flies. No huge rush on this project, then, but not a big deal to wrap it up either.

[3] I may have waited nearly 20 years to say it, but as I mentioned in a recent post, the lavender-blue silk Candlelight Kimono is happening VERY fast. Sometime in the next few days I should actually have the back finished and start the two fronts. After that it will require only short little sleeves and some careful blocking and sewing to ensure a proper fit and drape to the fabric. But even so, I will be frankly *astonished* if I do not have the option of wearing this sweater for the July 4th holiday.

[4] Based on actual start-dates (as opposed to yarn acquisition), the single longest-standing item on the incomplete list is my sweater tribute to Frejya, our fluffy orange Maine Coon cat. The front took me no more than a week to knit, but that was 3 years ago!! First I procrastinated mightily over weaving in all the loose ends produced by the intarsia. Then I took almost as long again with the duplicate-stitch embroidery. But the latter is 85% complete, and I will see to it that it gets the rest of the way done during June. I have already started the back of the sweater, which is slated to have a goldfish bowl on it. More intarsia and embroidery there, alas, but thankfully on a smaller scale than the front. So I will aim to complete the knitting in July and the embellishments in August. Then (mirabile dictu) the sweater will need only sleeves and a collar — oh, and a fuzzy dangling Main Coon cat-tail!! I would love love L-O-V-E to wear it at Christmas. So help me, then, oh ye Gods of needlework, this project *will* be done in 2010...

[5] My husband's Stornoway is coming along nicely, though at a rate consistent with the 2.5 mm (US size 1+) gauge, and is now missing only the sleeves. I recently acquired the 24" circular needle required for the upper portion of the arms and have picked up the first round of sleeve stitches. My goal is to finish one sleeve in July and the other in August, thus ending Phase I of the Great Guernsey Adventure, which was launched here last July. Since I fully expected the His & Hers project to take at least a year all along, everything looks to be more or less right on schedule.

[6] Since I did not actually cast on for my Eriskay until late November, I do not expect to finish it anytime soon. But I have made quite a bit of progress on it lately, since completing the ribbing. In fact, the body now measures 6 1/2" , which is already more than halfway to the base of the armhole gussets!! So I will try to reach the armholes sometime in the next few weeks and maybe get through the front and back yokes (or at least one of them) by the end of the summer. Then again, I am not in any great hurry and can always recalibrate the timetable if need be.

[7] The fifth and final sweater on the list, which I have dubbed "Peggy Tudor," went into quasi-hibernation in early October, when I completed the second of the four large body panels and laid the next two aside in deference to other things. I have deliberately never set any timetable for this painstaking (dare I say 'monumental'?) project, preferring to emphasize quality over quantity in my overall approach to it. I do not want it to go on forever, though, and it would be nice to start seeing some real progress again in the not-too-distant future. Indeed I would like see if I could have all the remaining body pieces done by the end of the summer. That's two side panels and four openwork panels, so not entirely out of reach, depending on how the time goes. As with Eriskay, though, I will take stock of things in July and adjust my expectations as needed. I will order the buttons before long, though, following the lead of a fellow Raveler who put me onto this magnificent solution to the otherwise vexing button problem. So the work goes on...

[8] Among the lace projects, the one closest to completion is the Evenstar. As described in my recent update, I continue to plug away at the beaded edging, a few points at a time. I try to do at least a little bit every day. Sometime very soon, although I won't pledge myself to an exact date, I should reach the halfway point. My goal is to finish the shawl in time for my sister-in-law's wedding in mid-July. I should manage it with ease, if I just keep working at the slow-but-steady pace that I have established.

[9] The American Beauty shawl could move up and become my "front-line" beaded project when the Evenstar is out of the way, but I will not force the issue if other things seem to take priority instead. I am enjoying it immensely, as I intimated not long ago, and I fully intend to savor it for as long as it lasts. So I will continue to work on it whenever the mood strikes and trust it to keep growing at a reasonable rate without applying any undue pressure. This is one where the best plan will be to set no timetable whatsoever and simply let nature take its course.

[10] Remember the Unst Stole? I have done nothing and said nothing about it for a very long time, but I have not lost sight of this delicate piece that I started last summer as a kind of coda to the Princess Shawl. It was driven into hibernation by the sudden arrival of beaded lace, and then kept there by a succession of other projects that came along to grab my attention. Truth be told, I was ready for a break from gossamer knitting after the Princess, even though it took me several weeks of gradual "detox" to realize it, whereby I started this follow-up project. But the better part of a year has gone by since then, and I have been meaning for a while now to pick up the 1.5 mm (US size 000) needles and get back to work. The Platinum colorway in the Gossamer CashSilk has always reminded me of Tolkien's mithril, full of magic and mystery and lore. I have done two full repeats so far of the complex alternating body pattern, and it will need either 4 1/2 or 5 1/2 repeats in all, plus the second "frame" band, before I can move on to the diamond border that is my favorite aspect of the design. I am reluctant to set a firm goal before actually taking a hand to it, so that I can get a sense of how a reasonable pace will look/feel, but roughly speaking let's watch for me to start knitting it again during June and to finish the body in July/August. Then I will work on the borders, and I might aim to have the rest done by mid-winter or spring break. Something like that, anyway.

I have not written about the last two items on the list. They are both beaded lace and belong to the Christmas 2010 Project. I don't think either of the intended recipients pays any attention to my blog, but I will try not to give too much away here. There is more information on my Ravelry profile.

[11] I started working with this skein of Unique Sheep Eos (50% merino, 50% tussah silk) in late March. It is in the Earthfaire-exclusive colorway called "Deep Forest," and I am making a beaded lace scarf/stole with a delicate motif appropriately based on woodsy foliage. The pattern comes from one of my favorite designers. I am nearing the halfway point already and hope to have the whole thing done by August 1st or thereabouts.

[12] Last but not least, I had no business casting on for Yet Another Beaded Lace Project, but I had been thinking about this one and looking forward to it for so long that I finally gave in a few weeks ago and got started anyway, just to see what it would look like. I am using a 100% organic cotton yarn (Pakucho Lace) from EcoButterfly and some magatama beads in a drop-dead gorgeous colorway called garnet-lined transparent topaz AB. The pattern comes from another one of my favorite designers. I have done only a few inches so far of what will eventually be a substantial stole, but it is very open lacework on 3.25 mm (US size 3) needles, so the knitting should go quickly when I finally get a chance to focus on it, which is highly unlikely to happen until August.

So I have my work cut out for me, as the saying goes. To recap the stated goals in a slightly different (i.e. chronological) format:

this week: finish the felted bag and the back of the kimono, keep working on the Evenstar;
by the end of June: finish the kimono and the front of the Frejya sweater, reach the armholes of Eriskay, keep working on the Evenstar, get back to the Unst stole;
by mid-July: finish the Evenstar;
by the end of July: make the 2nd Fiddlehead mitten, finish knitting the back of the Frejya sweater, one sleeve of Stornoway, and the "Deep Forest" stole;
by the end of August: embroider the back of the Frejya sweater, finish the second sleeve of Stornoway and at least one yoke of Eriskay, plus the body portions of both Peggy Tudor and the Unst stole, make some progress on the EcoButterfly stole.
along the way: keep working on American Beauty, whenever I feel like it...

*Phew*. That was a long haul, and no mistake. But it feels really good to have typed all this up. For one thing, the blog is now completely up-to-date. No more "hidden" or undocumented projects lurking in the wings!! What a relief. It is always a balancing act between knitting and blogging, but maybe now that I don't have to focus quite so much on catching up with the latter, I can spend a bit more time on the former. From now on, periodic updates throughout the summer can refer back to this post by way of holding myself accountable for the goals that I have set. I have placed a convenient marker beside each of the twelve entries to facilitate that process via precise hyperlinks.

Of course, setting goals can be dangerous, especially when you declare them publicly. If I should fall behind at any point, however, let me say right up front that there will be no guilt or recrimination, only adjustments to the timetable. After all, more than anything else I need this to be FUN and RELAXING. :-)

A Blogging Milestone (or TWO!!)

2010-06-06T13:40:00.000-07:00

Dear Reader,

Today marks the first anniversary of "The Faculty Meeting Knitter" (launched June 6, 2009) *AND* my 100th post as well.

I am awed and humbled to have reached these two important milestones on the same day. I mean, who would not be struck by a momentous feeling to see them appear together on the horizon, as I did a few weeks ago? Knowing that they were Out There, I could quite easily have taken steps to ensure that they would in fact coincide, but in all honesty I did not. I was extremely loathe to meddle in the ways of such wizards as may be seen to govern the Blogosphere, and thought it best instead to keep plodding away at my ongoing efforts to catch up. "Let destiny take its course," I told myself, and here we are...

On this occasion, I would like to extend a special word of appreciation to all my friends from Ravelry and Facebook who have supported this endeavor, but my sincere gratitude goes out as well to everyone around the world who has ever read my material. *THANK YOU*, whether indeed you follow the blog religiously, or have only stopped by once or twice in passing, or something in between. The art of knitting has graced my life in many ways, and not least because it brings people together out of kindness toward each other and respect for the craft. So the blog is just one aspect of a lifelong journey, and I am glad that there are so many fellow travelers.

Yours most truly and sincerely,
MRPP

Could it be a happy ending to my LONGEST knitting story?!! Meet the Candlelight Kimono...

2010-06-06T06:50:00.000-07:00

4:28 PM PST, April 12, 1991. Nineteen years ago. I know the precise date and time because, miraculously enough, I actually still have the receipt. George H. W. Bush was U.S. President, and Operation Desert Storm had ended not long ago, short of Baghdad. I was a second-year graduate student at UC Berkeley, who had recently fulfilled the requirements for a Masters Degree in Classics and was poised to move on to the PhD program in the fall. I was also a fairly experienced knitter by that point and a self-avowed yarn-snob, notwithstanding the genteel poverty of the grad student lifestyle. The late and much lamented Straw Into Gold was still in the retail business on the corner of Ashby and San Pablo, and their spring yarn sale happened to be in progress. So I went there that afternoon and decided to splurge a little, as a pat on the back to myself for having completed the MA.

The inventory at Straw Into Gold always blew my mind. It was the largest high-end yarn store that I had ever seen, with so many glorious offerings. On the day in question, for instance, I remember admiring the rich jewel tones and yummy texture of Manos del Uruguay, a singular indulgence that I have coveted ever since and may yet acquire one of these days.

But there is no place for heavy wool sweaters in the Berkeley climate, as I had already been forced to admit, die-hard native New Englander though I am, after trying in vain to wear them sometimes since my arrival. There's a familiar schtick where the newcomer to the Bay Area complains that "this place has no weather," and the longtime resident replies, "oh, there's weather alright. It's just *subtle*..." After two years' worth of what passes for seasons in that part of the world, I was finally coming to terms with reality, albeit somewhat begrudgingly. So I let the Manos go by and spent my money instead ($78.52, to be exact) on ~1100 yards of luxurious sport-weight 100% silk yarn, Italian spun, in a pale lavender-blue ("dilly dilly...") that positively gleamed in the California sunshine, seeming to defy the ambient heat with its icy placidity. Here are the original yarn labels, though noticeably yellowed by now, with the Crystal Palace name and all the pertinent info still legible (weight, yardage, dye lot, etc.). Feel free to click on the image (left) for a closer look.

I was proud and a little in awe of my purchase and soon set out to make a scoop-neck sweater with dainty little cables, deep k2p2 ribbing at the bottom, and cap sleeves, based loosely on a Kim Hargreaves design from Rowan No.3, (oddly enough not a perfume, but a stylish book of knitting patterns). I used small-gauge needles of some kind, no larger than 3.25 mm (US size 3), although detailed memory eludes me. Working on and off over the next year or two, I eventually got about 85% of the sweater finished — that is to say the back, the front, one whole sleeve, and part of the other — before reaching the grim yet inescapable realization that I simply did not have enough yarn to complete the entire garment as planned.

I cannot fully account for what happened next. But oddly enough, it was not a moment of panic. Very calmly and composedly, I gathered up all the pieces, folded them neatly and placed them, along with the remaining few small balls of unused yarn, into a clean plastic bag that I carefully tucked into the bottom of my knitting basket. I felt intuitively that I must not hasten to make an irrevocable decision that I might live to regret. This garment needed to be something classy and timeless that I could wear and treasure for many years, because the yarn not only stood for a memorable moment in my personal history but had marked a financial investment as well. So I held onto that bag and guarded it carefully, promising myself that I would eventually find, or create, just the right pattern.

I never forgot about my unfinished silk sweater, but I never did anything about it either. Over time, the bundle made its way intact from my knitting basket into deep storage at the back of a closet, and thereafter, perfectly preserved and safe in its enveloping plastic, it followed my peripatetic career from Berkeley to Washington D.C., Toronto, Champaign, IL, and finally here to Hanover, IN. In the interim nearly *TWO DECADES* went by...

Then at last this past February came the 2010 Ravelympics, with the special "Aerial Unwind" event encouraging knitters to "frog" their failed projects (i.e. "rip it, rip it, rip it...") and reclaim the yarn for new and better use. I don't know what made me suddenly think of the silk after it had lain dormant and undisturbed for so many years, but at a pivotal moment before the Olympic Games I went and dug it out with a clear sense of purpose and determination. Strangely, I knew right where it was and did not have to hunt for it at all amid the jumble. So maybe there had already been some unconscious awareness that the time had arrived to act decisively. Or something.

I suppose that there should have been poignant feelings, violins, and perhaps even tears to accompany the process of ripping out my old handiwork, winding the yarn into hanks, rinsing it, and hanging it to dry on hooks inside the bathroom door. But in truth it was all terribly methodical and matter-of-fact. What I felt more than anything else was *relief* and *anticipation*. The original sweater idea with its tiny cables was by now a thing of the distant past. I had not chosen a new pattern yet, but with the entire Ravelry database at my disposal, and the advice of wise and trusted knitting friends to rely upon as well, I knew that I was finally ready to resolve the issue once and for all and give this story the happy ending it deserved.

Here are some pictures of the reclamation process, including the impressive mound of expensive (and inedible) "ramen-noodles" fresh from frogging, the hanks of yarn neatly hanging to dry side-by-side, and the cakes of silk newly rewound, ready for their next adventure. As always, click on any of these images for a closer look.

The yarn had soaked up a great deal of water and took some considerable time to dry. Musing over patterns meanwhile, I came to the conclusion that a lacy cardigan with short sleeves would probably do the trick. The design had to be both classy and wearable, remember, and above all I could not afford to run out of yarn again. That prospect just did not bear thinking about!! Lace would help to make the yardage go further, of course, and I expected to knit at a somewhat looser gauge this time too.

Now enter my friend Anita and the Candlelight Kimono. Last summer I watched her knit this magnificent sweater of hers from a 100% bamboo yarn in a lovely spring green, and I have seen her wear it several times since. Two things about it caught my eye and eventually convinced me that this was indeed the answer for my silk: the elegant drape of the fabric and the meticulous custom fit.

The choice was not without its ironies, however, for UK designer Amy Pickard originally conceived of and published the pattern for the Ample Knitters Yahoo Group, where it is still exclusively available. Suffice to say that I am NOT an ample knitter, being of average height (5 ft. 4 inches) and a build that is medium verging on petite. The smallest size on the pattern is meant to fit a 42" bust, and I am a 34" or a 36".

The whole raison d'être of Ample Knitters from its inception in 1998 was to address "issues of concern to knitters in all sizes of large," because such issues are all-too-often ignored by the designers and publishers of knitting patterns. People come in a wide range shapes and sizes, after all, and with different proportions. To ensure the proper fit for a plus-sized person, it is not always advisable or even possible just to scale up an existing pattern as written for a smaller size. The individual may need more room in the bust and/or hips but not at the shoulder, for instance, or in the length of the sleeves. Frustrating!! So the Ample Knitters group is a place where one can go to draw on the collective wisdom of some very smart and resourceful people who have wrestled with these challenges, practiced techniques such as short-row shaping and so on, done the math, and come up with attractive, workable solutions.

Thus it was that the shoe found itself firmly wedged on the other foot, as I set about adapting the Ample Knitters pattern for my own more modest frame. I actually joined the Ample Knitters Yahoo Group for ~5 minutes, just long enough to sign in and download the pattern. I have to say that it is not the clearest example of the genre that I have ever seen, or the easiest to follow. All the instructions are there, but not necessarily organized in an intuitive sequence or even labeled very well. It was apparently the designer's first attempt, though, which would help to explain the awkwardness of the presentation. And the results really are quite lovely, once you get going.

As a first step, I made two swatches (left), one in plain stockinette and the other in the candlelight lace pattern. The pattern calls for 4.0 mm (US size 6) and 4.5 mm (US size 7) needles, but with my yarn I could not imagine knitting with anything larger than a 3.5 mm (US size 5), so I used that instead, fully expecting that the final stitch-counts would have to take my smaller gauge into account as well as my diminutive body-size. Imagine my surprise, therefore, when both swatches came out to precisely the specified measurements. Generally speaking, I seem to knit with about average tension, not much tighter or looser than most people. So the designer must grip her yarn with a very firm hand indeed, to get her gauge with a needle two sizes larger!!

Be that as it may, not having to worry about altering the gauge simplified matters quite a bit when I sat down with Anita and another knitting friend a few days later to come up with a detailed plan for my sweater. We took measurements and ran the numbers to ensure a good fit, preserving the figure-flattering waist indent from the original, but downsizing it. We kept the armhole shaping too, of course, but opted against short-rows for the bust, since the finished garment will be worn loosely enough to make that unnecessary. We sketched out the back and both fronts, but not the sleeves just yet, because I wanted to wait and see how the yarn supply will hold up, so that I can adjust both their length and width if need be.

A week ago today, then, armed with the original printed pattern and a graph paper diagram that showed all our the measurements and careful calculations, I cast on 93 stitches for the back, worked the band of moss stitch for the bottom, and *whooosh*!! The lace panel and armhole shaping went astonishingly fast. In fact, the back is nearly done already. See the photo on the bottom right (below)? I can hardly believe it, but honest to goodness, I am nearing the point where I will do the short-row shaping for the shoulders and then bind off and start the fronts. Feel free to click on any of these pictures to see an enlargement.

This design holds great promise. It may well turn out to be the fulfillment of my aspirations for the lavender-blue silk, aspirations thwarted long ago that have been held in abeyance all these years...

So the blog inches closer to the enviable point where everything will have been brought up to date, with no new, undocumented projects waiting in the wings. In fact, there are only three more to go, and I expect to mention all of them in an upcoming post that will have a rather unusual format for the start of the summer knitting season. :-)

Evenstar Mystery KAL II: Patterns and Progress

2010-06-05T07:59:00.000-07:00

Picking up with the Evenstar, right where I left off...

In Phase II, at the end of the previous post, I was getting the hang of the circular shawl business and becoming convinced that the "Blue Glass" Shimmer would indeed prove to be a worthy yarn choice. My shipment of cobalt-lined sapphire AB beads had arrived, and I started referring to the work-in-progress as "The Blue Thing" in my knitting bag. I do love the mixture of 70% baby alpaca and 30% silk. It feels marvelously loft and luxurious against the skin, and it has a subtle sheen too that really makes the colors glow.

This was my first mystery KAL, and I have enjoyed it immensely. One or two minor typos caused HUGE consternation on the Ravelry forum, especially, as near as I could tell, among relatively novice lace knitters who could not act otherwise than to do exactly as they were told and abide by all written instructions to the letter. A few individuals got extremely upset and frustrated, and were vocal about it. Yet I have to say for myself, as a veteran of decoding complex charts and "reading" my own lace fabric, that I never had the slightest trouble figuring out what the designer intended, regardless of what the pattern may have said. So I did my best to tune out all the forum drama and set myself to relax and savor the knitting process, an effort that was certainly rewarded by Susan's marvelous design. In fact, once past the initial stages, when I could (a) put away the dpn's and switch to a steady and reliable circular needle and (b) stop worrying about the color-pooling and trust my instincts in choosing the right yarn, I found the whole experience to be really and truly as uneventful and *soothing* as one could ever wish.

For purposes of the KAL, the body of the shawl was carved up into 6 incremental clues that arrived at two-week intervals from mid-February until the end of April, followed on May 7th by the final clue for the edging. Taken as a whole, however, the actual pattern consists of a two-tiered floral design (= clues #1-3), surrounded by a ring of elegant arches and filigree (= clues #4-5) and crowned by the triumphant return of the iconic Evenstar motif (= clue #6) that had appeared in two places near the center of the shawl and was first introduced in the pattern for the swatch (see previous post). The beaded edging is a straightforward example of the type, knitted perpendicular to the body of the shawl and taking up the live stitches one by one as it works its way around the circumference. So I will not belabor the blow-by-blow account from here on, concentrating instead on the main structural elements: flowers, arches, and edging.

Phase III: Stars & Flowers
As I have said, the center of the shawl was simple plain knitting between increase rounds. Then the "real" lacework began. By the end of the first clue, not only was the setup for the pi-shawl circle complete, but there were already two staggered rows of Evenstars as well, framed by simple triangles that soon blossomed, through the second and third clues, into an elaborate floral design. The outer ring of flower petals was framed by a delicate mesh pattern that Susan borrowed from the work of master lace artist Herbert Niebling. Six rounds of garter stitch at the end of clue #3 marked the boundary between this phase of the pattern and the next.

Each clue arrived on a Friday afternoon, the first at 6 PM EST and the subsequent ones at 3 PM, in deference to west-coast knitters bewailing the time difference. By the end of the second clue, the knitting really began to take on some momentum for me. I soon made up for the time that I had lost at the beginning, and I managed to stay caught up with the release of new clues all the way to the end. Indeed I finished almost all of the clues by mid-week and would turn to other projects to fill the time before the next one came.

Here are my pictures of the floral pattern as it emerged. I find that the photos of this shawl taken using flash tend to bring out the lace pattern more, because of the sharp contrast between light and dark areas, whereas those relying on natural light show off the colors of the yarn to best advantage, so the collection will include some of each type. As always, click on any of these images to get a closer look.

Phase IV: Elven Arches
After the flower petals, the fourth clue took some folks by surprise, because instead of a great big chart, this time we were given a simple pattern 20 stitches wide x 4 rows tall, to be repeated 28 times around the circumference of the shawl (now 560 stitches) and six times vertically, for a total of 24 rows. By the end there were columns of k1p1 ribbing alternating with some diagonal filigree work that was not quite the same as the Niebling mesh from the previous clue but coordinated nicely with it. The knit stitches in the ribbing were all twisted to enhance the sense of structure and depth in the columns. The designer had been broadcasting hints about the architecture of Rivendell from the LOTR movies, and I could clearly tell that we were indeed witnessing the birth of some lovely archways. Sure enough, in clue #5 the pairs of columns gracefully bent inwards toward each other to form the arches, and in clue #6 I was delighted to see the Evenstar motif come back to shine above them around the rim of the shawl, whose body was now complete.

This next series of photos will show how the pattern gradually emerged: first the columns and filigree appeared, then the pointed archways, and at last the Evenstars. As always, click on any of these images for a closer look.

At the end of clue #3 — just in time for the start of the Rivendell architecture — I went up a needle size to the 3.25 mm (US size 3), and I was soon very glad that I had done so, because the slightly looser gauge really helped to open up the arches, which would otherwise have been inclined to pull inwards as a natural effect of the k1p1 ribbing. This was quite frankly my favorite phase of the pattern. I particularly enjoyed the rhythm of the twisted ribbing and the balance of solidity and airiness in the archways. They seemed to embody Tolkien's conception of Elven artistry and the Elven character perfectly: graceful and slender, strong and noble, stalwart and elegant, and quietly, strangely, sad.

Phase V: Beaded Edging
And then it was done. All of a sudden, before I could even quite believe it or grasp hold of the fact, the seventh and final clue had arrived, and the Evenstar KAL entered its last phase, as we all began working the beaded edging around the outer rim of the shawl. I knew from previous experience that this was going to be a long haul and tried to warn some of the others that it would take time, especially for those who went along with the suggestion of placing the ~3000 beads one by one. Make no mistake: this task called for patience and perseverance above all else.

I had wondered since the beginning, both inwardly and out loud, how Susan would manage to squeeze that many beads into a mere 56 edging points. It was not hard to do the math and realize that each point had to contain ~50 beads, which seemed like an *awful lot*. But everything became crystal clear (pardon the pun!!) as soon as I saw the actual pattern, with its 5 concentric rows of beads zig-zagging around the circle. It is by no means the most complex or elaborate edging that I have ever seen, but it does an admirable job of framing the design, and the beads add an element of sparkle that is *impossible* to ignore. Click on either of these pictures to see what I mean...

Naturally, being so close to the end, I am eager to complete the shawl and especially to see how it will look after blocking, but I must admit that have not been in any great hurry to finish the edging. I did the first four points in one sitting on the same day that the clue was released, so that I could get a sense of the wave pattern and see how the beads would look in situ, but then I actually laid my Evenstar aside for a while and allowed myself to get distracted by other ongoing projects. Recent blog entries will testify to the wide variety of things that have been vying for my attention lately.

Only this past week did I get back to the business of placing all those beads. Progress is slow even now, but I have made my way about 30% of the way around the circle so far. I find that there is a limit to the pace that I can reasonably adopt, though, because I cannot stay focused for more than 3 or 4 points at a time. Those little 8/0 beads are tricky buggers to let loose on the world. If you don't watch them like a HAWK, they start bouncing around all over the place and getting into merry mischief, like the Cornish pixies in Gilderoy Lockhart's classroom. :-)

Evenstar Mystery KAL I: Preliminaries

2010-06-05T07:34:00.001-07:00

And so we come at length to the Evenstar shawl. It is still a work-in-progress at this point, but nearing the end after several months of intermittent activity, and it feels good to be posting something about it here finally, since that means the blog has truly almost caught up with my knitting. The pattern is the creation of my fellow Hoosier Susan Pandorf of Sunflower Designs, whose talent for lace in particular has previously brought us such notable beauties as Magic Carpet Ride (which I finished last November), Mehndi (which I have only just started recently and expect to write about soon), Dragonfly, Icicle, and Protopopov (all three of which are in my Ravelry queue).

The Evenstar story demands a bit of background. For Susan's imagination has been captivated lately by the works of J.R.R. Tolkien. In fact, she has launched an ambitious Lord of the Rings Series that will eventually consist of at least two dozen different lace, aran, and colorwork patterns, all inspired by characters from the books and/or scenes from Peter Jackson's LOTR movies. The patterns are grouped according to the volumes of the trilogy. One can either subscribe to the whole series in three parts or purchase individual patterns separately as they become available. Each sub-grouping will include a mystery shawl KAL: beginning with Evenstar for the Fellowship of the Ring, continuing with Elessar for The Two Towers, and of course culminating in The One Ring for The Return of the King.

So in other words Evenstar was and is only the first installment in what promises to be a Grand Adventure for knitters all around the world. And I am not kidding about the global reach. Susan has created quite a buzz!! For there is obviously considerable overlap between Ravelry knitters and the Tolkien fan-base: over 1,000 people joined the Evenstar KAL, and many of them have pledged to continue through the whole series.

As a lifelong Tolkien devotee and an admirer of Susan's work, I signed up for the Evenstar KAL practically within nano-seconds of learning about it, but I have so many other projects lined up already for the coming months, with more and more continually added to the list, that I opted to pick and choose from the available offerings rather than saddling myself with a costly subscription. That said, though, I will definitely take on the other two mystery shawls when they happen, and I have purchased one other pattern from the Fellowship series so far, namely the elegant Rivendell smoke-ring that I expect to make several times in different yarns and colorways.

But getting back to the Evenstar... This project marked several firsts for me personally: my first pi-shawl and indeed first circular shawl of any kind, my first official KAL (knit-along), and my first mystery design, where the clues are sent out one by one at a fixed interval, slowly revealing the pattern. I think the simplest way to write about it will be to recount the knitting process by stages, roughly corresponding to the incremental clues whose appearance became such a notable feature of the past few months. Knitters who are not overly worried about spoilers often do separate blog entries for each clue of a mystery KAL as it goes along, so I guess this post after-the-fact will have to serve the same function for me, albeit in a more encapsulated format. It will be fun to reflect on my experience, although I doubt I can recreate the wild anticipation of those bi-weekly emails from Susan. People always started perceptibly twitching on the Ravelry forum a day or two in advance.

Phase I: Swatching and Waiting for the Postman
The KAL was announced well ahead of time, but for some reason I did not find out about it until February 11th, i.e. the day before the first clue was scheduled for release. So I got off to a somewhat breathless start. There was a special pattern for the swatch (pictured right), featuring the striking Evenstar motif that was designed to evoke Arwen's pendant from the LOTR movies (read a fascinating interview with the jewelry designer here). The knitted version involves working 7 stitches into the same 3 loops, a somewhat tricky maneuver that I had never encountered before but later learned to associate with Estonian lace and would soon see again with the Echo Flowers design, as described in my previous post.

There was a fair bit of Sturm und Drang on the Ravelry forum as various people found themselves locked in a wrestling match with their knitting over the 7-into-3 stitch. Alternate techniques were proposed — kfb (= knit into the front and back of the loops), k1p1 (= alternate between knit and purl stitches) and k1yo (= alternate between knit stitches and yarn-over loops) — and their relative merits weighed at length over the extended course of the KAL. I made my mind up right away that I liked the look of the k1p1 best, because of the way the 7 new stitches spread themselves out evenly around the little ring created by the trio of loops into which they were all worked. So I did the same thing throughout, each time the motif appeared, starting with the swatch as shown above.

Susan made the original shawl using Blue Moon Fiber Arts Silk Thread II in a shiny silver colorway called "Winter Solstice" that perfectly captures the Elven mystique of Arwen Undomiel. Quite a few KAL participants followed her lead with pastel shades especially of gray, blue, and lavender, but with my Unst Stole in mithril-like "Platinum" Gossamer CashSilk still on the needles (and awaiting the return of my attention), I wanted something bolder and darker. I also knew almost immediately, especially because it was such a sudden move to join the KAL, that I would turn to KnitPicks Shimmer as a relatively low-budget yarn alternative that would still preserve the high-end look and feel that the pattern clearly called for. Sure enough, later that same day I ordered 4 skeins in the "Blue Glass" colorway and knitted the swatch with a remnant of the "Sherry" colorway that I had on hand, left over from a previous project.

I had been craving something to knit from the cerulean end of the spectrum lately and quietly eying the "Blue Glass" Shimmer for a long time, so when the Evenstar KAL opportunity arose, it was an easy choice. I knew that the mixture of capri blue, cobalt, and navy would not disappoint, although I must admit that I lingered somewhat over the "Sherry" too, when I saw how the swatch had turned out, because the deep reds brought to mind Arwen's dress from the poignant scene in the movie where the book falls from her hand. Maybe someday, if/when I decide to do it all over again...

Yet although I managed not to agonize over the yarn for this impromptu project, it still quickly became a case of "hurry up and wait," because my KnitPicks package arrived several days later than expected, due to the President's Day holiday and some nasty winter weather. C'est la vie, hein?

Phase II: Going in Circles
As far as the gauge went, the pattern calls for 3.25 mm (US size 3) needles, so that is what I used for the swatch. This was an experiment, because in the past I had used 2.0 mm (US size 0) needles with the same yarn, so I was not surprised when the knitting felt loose in my hands. The swatch came out only slightly too big, though, so I went down to 3.0 mm (US size 2) needles at the start.

Truth be told, I actually moved up to the 3.25 mm (US size 3) after the third clue out of 7, and up again to 3.5 mm (US size 4) for the edging, as a way to help the fabric stretch. A friend of mine who is a VERY experienced knitter routinely does this with all her circular and other shawls knitted outward from the center, and I think it makes good sense, especially for a pi-shawl where you have such long intervals of plain knitting that are supposed to expand and fill in the segments between increase rounds. Of course we'll see for certain at blocking time, but I think I am going to end up feeling extremely glad that I took the precaution.

Now, as I mentioned earlier, I had never tried to knit a circular shawl before, and no one had ever warned me either about just how wild & woolly those first several rounds generally are. Yikes. After reading up and experimenting with different methods for an appropriate cast-on, I eventually chose Fleegle's version, which I carefully translated from right-handed to left-handed use. So that was OK, but then it definitely took a bunch of tries before I could persuade the double-pointed needles to cooperate and sit still long enough for me to make my way around a few times. "Taming the hedgehog" took on a whole new meaning there for a while, between the twisting and the slipping and the other bad things that can happen all too easily at that stage. Yet though the outset was perilous in the extreme, everything calmed down significantly, once I got three or four rounds into it and the stitches found their places and started lining up neatly all by themselves.

But soon another problem arose, as the colors started pooling alarmingly. After the 3rd increase round, my gauge managed to align itself just right (or rather, just WRONG) with the phase-shifts in the yarn, so that one half of the circle got all the pale shades and the other half all the deep, dark ones. It reminded me of the light and dark sides of the moon. *Ugh*. So I began again and devised a scheme of "snipping and skipping" (as it were) to disrupt the pooling by artificially elongating some color segments and foreshortening others. It seemed to work reasonably well. The photo on the left shows my first attempt, which probably would have lasted, except that then the yarn broke and I had to start over yet again. What a litany of woes!! So the picture on the right is the actual working center of the shawl, which was made by the same method as the trial version on the left.

Honestly, it took a while to reassure myself that the variegated yarn was going to work out with the lace pattern. I could not be entirely convinced that the pesky pooling problem would not recur, since the whole pi-shawl arrangement is based on multiples of the same number stitches all the way along. And even without worrying about that, the colors just looked awkward somehow until the diameter grew enough to distribute them and balance everything out. I kept telling myself that it would probably all sort itself out eventually, but there was a persistent voice in my head suggesting that none of these concerns would have arisen to plague me with a solid-colored yarn. I went so far as to devise a backup plan for the unpleasant prospect of having to give up on the "Blue Glass" entirely, but I also kept listening to the *other* persistent voice in my head that took its cue from Dory in "Finding Nemo": "Just keep knitting, just keep knitting..." Fortunately, the happy “tipping point” came somewhere in the course of clue #2, and I soon felt my confidence growing about the prospects for an auspicious end result with my chosen colorway.

We were told that the edging of the shawl would be clue #7 and would have the option of including ~3000 8/0 beads. So as soon as I had assuaged my doubts about the variegated colorway, I went ahead and ordered three containers of 8/0 beads from Earthfaire in cobalt -lined sapphire AB. I wanted something emphatically *BLUE* that would stand out but still sing in harmony alongside the various shades in the yarn, and the rainbow highlights of the AB coating definitely bring a welcome frisson of Elven magic into the mix.

And that sounds like a good stopping place. For this post is now sufficiently long that I will break off here. Coming up next: progress and patterning...

Pretty in Pink

2010-06-03T06:13:00.000-07:00

I am emphatically *NOT* one of those gals who wear pink all the time, accessorize with pink and nothing else, and even make pink the focus of their home decor, because it's their favorite color and everyone else just has to deal with it. Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde, *moi*? Surely you jest... Nor are pale colors my normal milieu. As a child, I did admittedly choose bedding that was undeniably pink (no getting around that fact), but it was a bright, cheerful shade rather than anything pale and insipid. I simply won't go for insipid. The handful of roseate garments in my current wardrobe are all decidedly on the fuchsia/magenta/hot pink end of the spectrum as opposed to pastels/petal pink/mauve. The thing of it is that I am both a Leo (astrologically) and a Winter (in terms of my skin tone). Always on the lookout for dramatic contrasts, I naturally gravitate toward intense cool colors, including lots of black, set off by white or the occasional icy pastel, and the latter tend to be more blue/periwinkle/lavender than anything else.

So perhaps the fact that *two* of my lace projects this spring ended up being pink floral patterns might seem a tad out of character. But who cares, right? It's MY fiber fetish, thank you very much, and I can do as I like. There's nothing wrong with the occasional feminine flourish. And besides, neither one of the shawls in question would truly qualify as an Insipid Pink Object (IPO?) of the sort that is so rarely found in my vicinity. There are standards to be maintained, after all. ;-)

As mentioned here not long ago, I splurged with some of my Christmas money on two skeins of Twisted Sisters Lust (70% kid mohair, 30% silk) from the YarnMarket exclusive Impressionist Collection. One of these became my beloved Starry Night shawl, spangled with 6/0 beads of topaz and cobalt blue, and the other... Well, it was in a colorway called "Monet's Garden," as inspired by the painting "Pathway in Monet's Garden in Giverny" (1902). This beauty is a to-die-for blend of red and deep fuchsia, with the barest hint of orange flame — an item, in other words, that is utterly in keeping with my preferred color palette. I paired it with some of the largest beads I have ever used in knitting: 5/0 triangles in a shade called red iris that was a perfect match, if I do say so myself.

Fresh from the triumph of Starry Night and hoping to fashion a suitable companion piece in the red/violet colorway, I went hunting for another triangle shawl pattern, and eventually settled on the Echo Flowers Shawl design by Jenny Johnson Johnen. This is a top-down triangle featuring floral motifs that make heavy use of the Estonian lace technique whereby the base of a flower is formed by knitting 9 stitches into the same 3 loops, and then the petals are shaped and separated by yarn-overs and eventually finished off with double-decreases that bring the stitch-count back to where it started. The pattern called for nupps along the border as well, although I simply replaced them with beads.

I used 4.0 mm (US size 6) needles to ensure that the fabric would open up enough to overcome the bloom of the mohair. The knitting proved to be tremendously enjoyable, and it flew off my needles remarkably fast. In fact, I had the whole shawl finished in under two weeks!! Blocking proved a bit tricky, because the tension had to be carefully applied in order to stretch out all the flowers adequately. But I am delighted with the results and will definitely wear the shawl quite a bit, both for teaching and on other occasions. Here is the inevitable photo gallery, with pictures taken both during and after blocking. As always, click on any one of the images to take a closer look.

This shawl's finished dimensions are ~25” long at the center, with a 52” wingspan. Thankfully, it was the last remaining project completed in the past few months that I had not managed to blog about yet, which means that now only works-in-progress are left. *YIPEEEEEE*!!!! Hopefully, then, I should be able to get completely caught up relatively soon, which will be an enormous relief, I must say.

For of course the other pink project in my life is American Beauty, which is nowhere near completion as of yet. I have however made significant progress since my last update, despite pausing to start over, after realizing that (a) I had misread the chart for the edging, which is a snaky vine-lace that works counter-intuitively for those used to symmetrical patterns in the traditional mode, and (b) I had also not been using the proper technique for the centered double-decreases in the rosebud pattern that appears throughout the body of the shawl. Fortunately, I really did not have to undo much work or lose much time in the restart, and once I got going again it quickly grew. Indeed I have now completed more than 100 rows and am actually halfway through my third repeat of the larger rose motif that is truly my favorite aspect of the whole design.

Here is a closeup of this striking element, which appears in the original four times on each shoulder, nestled amid the smaller rosebuds in a diamond arrangement: first one at the top, then two side by side below it, and then one more centered beneath them. I am in fact so fond of the larger roses that I have decided to insert an extra series of them in my shawl: first one as written, then two, then *three* (following the same arrangement), then two again, and then one at last. I have carefully weighed my yarn at intervals and determined that, yes, I do have enough to add the extra repeats, and I think they will enhance the intricate look of the finished piece.

I am enjoying this project so much that I find I am in no hurry to finish it. In fact, the Aurora Whisper is such a supremely *glorious* example of both the spinner's and the dyer's arts, with such a magical, springy texture and symphony of colors, that I am seriously doing my best to savor the entire knitting process. Here are some additional photos taken first at an early stage (although after the restart), then a bit later, and finally just this afternoon, to show how it would be hard to pin the whole thing out anymore, since it has gotten quite bunched up even on a 32" circular needle.

The funny thing about this shawl from my own perspective is that I am already on the lookout for an actual, honest-to-God PASTEL PINK T-shirt or blouse to wear under it. Oh, *horrors.* How the mighty have fallen... ;-)

Pine & Ivy

2010-06-02T13:43:00.000-07:00

A new knitting pattern must be something very special indeed, when a KAL (Knit-Along) forms on Ravelry several weeks before its scheduled release, solely on the strength of tantalizing photos from the designer's blog...

That is precisely what happened not terribly long ago with the Pine & Ivy shawl design from Anne Hanson of KnitSpot fame. The KAL Forum on Ravelry was launched March 12th, and by that time people were already buzzing with yarn ideas and color comparisons, even though the actual pattern did not appear until the 22nd!! A lovely photo gallery heralded that much-anticipated event. But the initial fascination had been sparked several weeks earlier by this entry in Anne's blog. I love the way she began by peeking in at the blocked shawl from behind some French doors. By mid-April, the KAL Forum had over 1,000 posts. There was just no mistaking the fact that an instant classic had been born.

I bought the pattern the day it appeared and cast on a few days later. It gives instructions for three sizes of shawl. I started with the smallest one (a kerchief or "shawlette"), but like many of the people on the KAL Forum, I soon realized that I would probably end up knitting the design several times in different sizes, colors, and/or fiber choices. For this first time, though, I turned to my old stand-by KnitPicks Shimmer (70% baby alpaca, 30% silk) in the "Bayou" colorway, a lovely rich mixture of dark brown and forest green with hints of both olive and teal. Normally with such a yarn I would probably reach for a 2.75 or 3.0 mm (US size 2 or 2+) needle, but I decided to take a bit of a risk and go up to 3.25 mm (US size 3), so that the lace fabric would really stretch out. Also, for a little added embellishment, I sprinkled in some 8/0 beads in silver-lined root beer (which has to be my all-time favorite name for a bead colorway), not enough to make the shawl an automatic trip to "bling city," but just to add a touch of sparkle that would still be suitable for day wear or around the office. I placed them on the ivy vines across the bottom border and the pine cone motif running up the center back, and left the intricate patterning of the rest of the shawl to speak for itself, as it were.

The shawl is fashioned from the bottom up, so you start by casting on several 100's of stitches (303 for the smallest size, 403 for the medium, and 503 for the large/tall). Counting and re-counting all those stitches can be a real challenge. In fact, a few people participating in the KAL got seriously frustrated at that point. But I was lucky enough to make it work on the first try, thank goodness. My usual method in such situations is to mark the stitches off in groups of 50 and then count between the markers until I am satisfied that I have the right number. I find that I still have to concentrate harder as the stitch-count grows, but at least the task becomes more manageable that way.

After a scant 3 rows of garter stitch across the bottom edge, you get into the the ivy border. This provides one of the most visually striking elements of the whole shawl, of course, but it offers some special challenges as well, because the pattern seems to be floating unsupported in mid-air. It also involves a lot of switching back and forth between angled decreases in both directions, as this is what Sharon Miller calls "knitted lace" as opposed to "lace knitting" (i.e. there is patterning on every row, without a row of plain knitting or purling in between). So you have to keep track of ssk/k2tog on the right side vs. p2tog/p2togtbl on the wrong side. Of course, Anne Hanson is a marvelous designer. Her charts are all *meticulously* laid out and paired with crystal clear written instructions that can be consulted in moments of doubt. But all the same, the directional stuff can get terribly confusing at times, especially for left-handed knitters like me.

Once I got past the ivy vines and into the body of the shawl, the knitting started to speed up noticeably, partly because the pattern was more straightforward (although that wavy section in the middle definitely had its tricky bits!!), and also because each successive row was shorter than the last due to the steady decreases. The shawl is exquisitely shaped to fit over the shoulders. I found that I had reached the top before I even quite knew what was happening, and the top edging was a breeze. The whole thing took no more than 5 weeks, and it was NOT my only project at the time.

Below is a gallery of the finished shawl both during and after blocking. The blocking process was fairly straightforward. I started by threading parallel wires on either side of the center panel, and once I had them pinned in place, began pinning out first the lower edge and then the upper one, point by point. The wings clearly wanted to curve upward, given the shaping. As I had hoped, the lace fabric made on larger-than-normal needles stretched out splendidly, and the various patterns really opened up. Its finished dimensions are 20" long at the center with a wingspan of ~48". I ended up using the floor of the computer room to block it out, because the master bedroom with its ever-so-convenient queen-size bed was unavailable. So our two youngest cats inevitably got into the act as well. The fluffy miniature tigress is named Wobbles, and the sleek puma look-alike is Quintus Nigellus. He came to us as a stray when fully grown, whereas she was a day-old kitten whom we rescued and bottle-fed. But I digress... As always, click on any of these photos (or the ones above) to get a closer look.

I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed this knit from start to finish, and was especially pleased with how it turned out in the end. This is definitely a pattern worth knitting again in one of the larger sizes, perhaps even using more of the "Bayou" Shimmer that I still have in my stash.

Heavenly Hearthfire

2010-05-23T06:07:00.000-07:00

Let's be honest: knitting projects are NOT all created equal. Some are frankly more compelling than others. And every once in a while, a special one comes along that exercises a unique fascination and takes the creative process to a whole new level.

That's what the Hearthfire Shawl was like for me, from the very first moment that I saw this limited holiday edition colorway of the Fiesta yarn called Gracie's Lace in December of last year. Forgive me, Dear Reader, if these pictures of the skein seem overused and all-too-familiar. I just can't seem to get enough of them!

On one level, it was all about the *colors* — fuchsia, blue-violet, cypress green, russet brown — each of them deep and rich enough to drown in on its own, and the whole ensemble brought together in a harmonious and cozy seasonal blend aptly named "Cranberry Crush." The description on the Earthfaire website (where, incidentally, they have several of the regular Gracie's Lace colorways in stock at the moment) said something about mulled cider that really stuck in my mind. I am very much a cool colors, white-metal jewelry sort of girl, and generally avoid warm shades in my personal wardrobe. Earth tones tend to crawl off me. But with the pink and purple to offset the cinnamon, this colorway quickly became the exception that proves the rule.

When the package from the yarn store arrived, unexpectedly fast as I recall, I ripped it open eagerly and paused only long enough to snatch one or two photos of the unwound hank before winding it up to see what it would look like. And then, of course, a week later I had the unforgettable epiphany of matching the yarn with the silver-lined dark topaz AB beads, which magically reflected ALL the colors in what was already a heady mixture, to make the whole thing sparkle and sing. Scintillating!!

Yet amid all the chromatic rapture, let us not neglect the *texture* of this sensuous beauty. Gracie's Lace is truly a feast for the touch as well as the eyes, with 70% resilient, springy merino, 15% luscious, shiny silk, and 15% buttery soft, self-indulgent cashmere. It was an incredibly smooth, cushy knit, the kind where I found myself torn between wanting to work fast and make progress toward completion and wanting to slow down and savor the experience of holding the knitting in my hands and running the yarn through my fingers. Fortunately, even after blocking (which can sometimes attenuate the fabric and change its tactile character), it still has an incredibly soft, luxurious feel.

And of course the other crucial element in all of this, was the *consummate artistry* of Sivia Harding's Harbour Lights shawl design. Originally inspired by the nautical images of a lighthouse and lapping waves, this triangle shawl with its bold radiating panels and unusually deep, flowing edge pattern lent itself perfectly to the home-for-the-holidays, festive cooking and candlelight/fireside warmth and fellowship evoked by the Cranberry Crush. So the Hearthfire concept emerged from a rich and harmonious fusion of colors, textures, and lace patterns.

It was, quite simply, a *WOW* experience for me from start to finish. The edging became a surprisingly large task, even with just 24 points around the outside of the triangle, because of its depth and intricacy. It took over a month to complete. When the shawl was done at last, I honestly missed being able to work on it anymore!! That is probably why I kept taking so many pictures of the finished object, literally dozens of them. I had enjoyed the whole process so thoroughly that I wanted to capture it and hold onto it somehow. Nor could I let it go here in the "blogosphere" without one final attempt to put some of my inspiration into words.

But enough rhapsodies... Without further ado, here is a gallery of the completed Hearthfire Shawl, both during and after blocking. You can tell the difference, when in doubt, because of my blocking cloth with its unmistakable (and amazingly helpful!!) grid peeking through from behind the lace. As always, click on any of these images to get a closer look. I strongly encourage it, because this is truly a fun piece to look at. It will reward your attention, I promise. :-)

I should note that since completing this shawl about a month ago, I have actually worn it several times. It is a delightful cover-up for a woman on-the-go and especially effective over Basic Black, which offsets the colors beautifully and lets them shine.

And this story has an Epilogue... Working in lace-weight yarn with a design that was written for fingering-weight, I paid close attention to the measurements and did several extra pattern repeats on the body of the shawl so that it would come out to be the right size. There were also some careful calculations for the edging, and when I realized what a substantial portion of the time, effort, and yarn had to be kept in reserve for that final phase of the project, I kept weighing the remainder of the skein after each pattern repeat of the body, because above all things I did NOT want to run out of yarn within sight of the finish. As a result, when all was said and done, I actually had 8 g of the precious fiber left over, which was just enough that I could not let it to go to waste. I had some extra beads too. So with a bit of tinkering, and thanks at least in part to the fact that I have been gifted (?) with small hands, I was able to make a set of beaded wristwarmers to match the shawl. I used the Estonian Lace Wristwarmers pattern by noted designer Evelyn Clark (available as a free Ravelry download). Click on any of these images likewise for a closer look if it pleases you.

It took some special care to ensure that the bind-off would be loose and elastic enough to get these on and off with ease, but they fit nicely and add a surprising amount of warmth for all their diminutive size and delicate appearance.

The Guernseys Get Going!!

2010-05-22T09:55:00.000-07:00

I must apologize to my loyal readers for another unseemly hiatus. I honestly did not intend for it to happen, but Spring is an especially busy season in academia, trying to wrap things up before graduation both in class and administratively, and at the end of a long day with not much time to spare, I have to admit that I would far rather relax with my knitting for a little while than crank up the blogging and imaging software. So here I find myself again with a rather alarming backlog of WIPs and finished projects, all crying out to be documented before it gets to be too late. Sigh. Just call me Sisyphus, OK? ;-)

But perhaps we can start with something relatively straightforward. I am extremely excited to report that the His & Hers project that began last summer, which I christened The Great Guernsey Adventure, has seen some genuine progress in recent weeks. I have been on a "yarn diet" since March 1st, with no new purchases allowed, in an attempt to focus on works in progress. It also helps that my Spring Term class on Roman gladiators has involved watching all the great Hollywood blockbuster films inspired by the Roman arena: Kirk Douglas for 3 1/2 hours last Monday, Russell Crowe for 2 1/2 hours on Thursday, and Charlton Heston for nearly 4 hours this coming Monday. All that epic drama offers a fabulous opportunity for knitting along.

So for starters I was finally able to finish the collar for my husband's Stornoway, which has been pending since the end of January. Those who have been following this project from the beginning will remember that I modified the original neckline by bringing the yoke pattern up a bit further and making a proper crew-neck rather than a mock turtle style. After picking up stitches around the neck (including front, back, and shoulder straps), I worked in k2p2 ribbing for 2 1/2", then folded the edge to the inside and carefully sewed it down. Here is what the finished collar looks like (as always, click for a closer look).

As a side note, with all the live stitches off the needles and only the sleeves still missing, it was possible for the intended recipient to try on his sweater for the first time. Not that I was really very nervous about it, having taken careful measurements beforehand and monitored my gauge throughout, but it still came as a relief to see that IT REALLY FITS!! Even without blocking...

I can hardly believe that it's just a matter of finishing the sleeves now. Reaching that milestone really fired me up to keep going and see this thing through to the end. But no sooner did I begin picking up stitches around the first armhole than I realized that the job would require a 24" circular needle, at least to start out. And for some reason my collection lacks the precise combination of needle size and cable length for this purpose, despite my best efforts to ensure that I had laid in all the necessary hardware in advance. I guess I just didn't quite foresee how wide the armhole would be. It will be easy enough to place an order with KnitPicks, but not until June 1st. That is my self-imposed deadline for knitting-related purchases (the "yarn diet" mentioned above). Which means that I had to suspend work on Stornoway for a little while.

I did not like to lay it aside, especially just when I had begun to move forward again after so long a pause. But the silver lining was that this meant I could turn my attention instead to my own Eriskay, which got off to a later start than his sweater still needs a LOT more work.

Wait a minute... Looking back over previous entries, I just realized that I never posted *anything* at all about actually launching Eriskay. Wow. That just goes to show what can happen when you fall behind and try to catch up, but then don't quite manage to fill in all the gaps. Alright, so I'd better be sure to tell the whole story now and not to leave out any of the important bits.

The first big hurdle was to figure out exactly how to do the Channel Island cast-on *left-handed*. I found several right-handed tutorials, both in print and on-line, and got some terrific help in addition from a fellow Southpaw on Ravelry, who had written down detailed lefty instructions at a workshop with no less an authority on all things guernsey than Beth Brown Reinsel herself. So after an inevitable but thankfully brief period of rather dizzying dyslexic confusion (left? right? up? down? clockwise? counterclockwise?), I was able to sort out the technique and then put it to good use, casting on 320 stitches for the bottom ribbing. Here's how it looked with the first few rounds complete. See the string of bumps along the bottom edge? That's the signature look of the Channel Island cast-on, which is uniquely well suited for k1p1 ribbing. Be sure to notice my little black bunny stitch marker (courtesy of WeeOnes), and of course feel free to click on the image for a closer look.

According to my project page on Ravelry, that was November 29th. Then came 2 3/4" of k1p1 ribbing around the circle of 320 stitches with 2.0 mm (US size 0) needles. Yikes!! I won't try to disguise the fact that this became quite a test of endurance. I found that I could not work on it for very long at a time without having my hands get tired and/or start to ache in odd places. So every so often I would knit a round or two and then put it away, and come back to it again later. Yet even though I knew that I was whittling away at the challenge and that the ribbing was expanding ever so slowly, nevertheless MONTHS went by without the goal getting any appreciably nearer.

Indeed only just this past week, with Stornoway unexpectedly on hold and all that raw, un-harnessed "guernsey energy" running through my veins, did I actually manage to (a) finish the @#^$!! ribbing and (b) start the body pattern. One difference between these His & Hers designs is that while Stornoway uses the same series of patterns throughout in a basically vertical or columnar arrangement set off by alternating cables, Eriskay has a simple, repetitive body pattern up to the armholes, which is then topped by an intricate paneled yoke including both cables and some feminine lacy touches.

The transition from the ribbing to the body pattern, which also involved moving up incrementally to a 2.25 mm (US size 1) circular needle, was like NIGHT and DAY in terms of ease, efficiency, and speed of progress. The process of working the ribbing lasted almost *6 months*, whereas I have now completed 35 rows of the body pattern in less than a week. I am utterly overjoyed with the results. Feel free, as always, to click on any of these photos and examine them more closely. But if you do so, I beg you to ignore the pale cat hairs. They just go with the territory around here. Hehehe.

This is of course the same traditional 5-ply guernsey yarn from Frangipani in the UK that I am also using for his Stornoway, although the gauge is slightly smaller (a difference of 0.25 mm in the needle circumference or one US size). It makes an amazing knitted fabric, sturdy and yet pliable, and with incredible stitch definition. The colorway is called "Damson," and I find it rich and deeply satisfying to gaze at. It reminds me of the evocative "wine-dark sea" from Homeric poetry, and I know that it will fit right into my winter wardrobe, because that is already heavily weighted toward the burgundy/plum end of the spectrum.

So that's how the guernseys are going, slowly but surely. Coming up next: a gallery of finished lace...