Stitch Markers: A Treatise

Doing so much lace of late has required me to use a lot of stitch markers.

I've tried a number of different types, and each has its drawbacks. For some types, I'm still trying to identify the merits....

Little rubbery "cheerio" markers: have a tendency to bounce very far away and disappear forever when dropped.

Hard plastic markers: break.

"Split-ring" plastic markers: get tangled in the knitting.

Beautiful hand-crafted metal with beads: at $2+ each more complex lace designs require me to spend more on markers than I do on yarn.

Believe it or not, the markers I'm happiest with at the moment are the spare colour rings from our electric toothbrush. The heads for the toothbrush come with a couple of different coloured little plastic rings that you put around the bottom of the head to make sure you know whose is whose. You sadly can't get them off the head once they've been installed, but there's all those extras. And they make really great stitch markers.

Lace: Theorems, Corollaries and Lemmas

Things I have learnt...

1. More repeats of pattern on a row are easier than fewer as you get a chance to get into the rhythm of a row.
2. Stitch markers up the wazoo.
3. Spend more time that you imagine possible examining your work to make sure you're ok. Particularly before you feed a lifeline.
4. Feed a lifeline every pattern repeat or two.
5. I've said this before, but for the love of god make sure that when you feed a lifeline it's into a row that is in itself correct. And that the rows below the lifeline are also correct.
6. Before you begin a set of pattern stitches -- between two markers, of course -- count the stitches you're about to work. A corollary to that is that a missing YO is easily fixed on the next right side row.

I have to say I think I'm getting the hang of it. I've made more progress in the last few evenings, even watching really exciting television, that I'd made in the first couple of weeks.

But I guess the biggest thing to get used to with lace is that ripping back is not an extraodinary measure. Ripping back is the way of things. You'll do it a lot.

Did You Even Know that Sheep Came in These Colours?

Something I'm working on with yarn from my visit to a sheep shearing party this spring.

I love these colours.

Lace on a Plane

I thought this lace scarf would be a good choice for travel knitting:

I don't need a printed pattern other than a little card on which I've written out the three right side rows of the lace pattern repeat.

And I'm doing it on a short bamboo circular, which is entirely plane-safe.

And it's more intellectually engaging than sock knitting, so it will keep me more entertained.

Not so much, I learnt.

My attention kept getting dragged away -- "anything to drink?", "headphones?", a fidgety seatmate. So I kept making mistakes.

And it's hard to thread (or rethread) a lifeline when you don't have a needle with you. A crochet hook would have worked, if I'd thought of it in advance.

And then those clever little rubber stitch markers bounce very, very far when dropped.

It's very much two steps forward, one step back with this project. I do love the yarn, and when it's working well I like the design. But it is a patience tester...

Toronto is OK

Spent the weekend in New York, on a short vacation.

I did a bunch of research before I left: which knitting shops should I visit? Purl and School Products rose quickly to the top of the list, based on what I'd read about them online, and personal recommendations.

Both are terrific shops -- with welcoming staff and a nice selection and interesting locations. And I bought a book in each. I was hoping to find some hidden treasures, some books that aren't available in Toronto. What I ended up with were two books that have been on my list for a while, Barbara Walker's Treasury of Stitch Patterns Volume 2 and Debbie Bliss's Toy Knits. But both of these are available at home.

What about the yarn, you ask... Yes, there was certainly some stuff on the cone and unlabeled skeins that looked really interesting in School Products. Purl had a lovely selection of Rowan, Noro, Alchemy and similar sorts of products. But again, for the most part, there was nothing I couldn't find here at home.

All in all, I came away from both stores with the feeling that we're pretty well off here in Toronto. We have a variety of stores, each with its own niche, and we have access to some absolutely terrific yarns of all types -- the inexpensive practical stuff, and the luxurious and truly remarkable. We should be proud.

Ignoring My Own Advice

Ask me how many times I've started this damn shawl. Go on, ask me. I dare you.

This is the third attempt.

Never work on a lace project during the season finale of your favourite TV show. In the dark.

And about that lifeline thing...

Sigh.

Sort-of Off Topic

Most people who know me know that I watch TV or movies when I knit.

I therefore feel that it's not entirely off-topic to mention the newly launched blog brought to you by the man making the recommendations on what TV and movies to watch. (Not to mention working the remote.)

Norman's blog. Which may or may not be about movies.

It is hair, after all

I buy a lot of vintage. One of my latest purchases is a lovely red aran cardi. I couldn't resist -- the bargain-basement price was a factor, but I loved it most of all because it was red. You never see red arans.

But damn it, it's itchy. Wow. I can see why it ended up lonely and forlorn in a vintage store on the clearance rack.

But wool is hair. And conditioner is good for hair. So there's no reason why conditioner isn't good for wool, I figured.

I'd read about using hair conditioner to soften itchy sweaters. And it works! A good old simple cream conditioner, and I soaked the sweater for over an hour -- but it is noticeably softer.

Very pleased.

Can't Write, Too Busy Knitting

Lots of stuff cooking right now...

the bee socks are almost done, another pair of rainbow socks, yarn and a pattern for modest-size lace shawl, and a super-secret thing in the bottom left of the pic.

Another clue:

And I have to say that it's Erin's fault, with her Lady Eleanor.

Who Knew?

Wool comes from sheep!

A modicum of fame!

A few people I work with know about my "other life". It came up at work the other day... B. said to me that M., a co-worker, also knits, and I should tell her about my blog.

M. tells me she is making her first sock. It's a sassy little pink number, in Cascade Fixation. Very nicely done, too.

And then she tells me where she's learning from... my piece on Knitty. She didn't know it was me.

I'm so proud -- of M. for knitting a really great sock the first time around -- and of my piece that clearly works so well.

Wow.

Signs that maybe you've knit too many socks

When you can turn the heel on the bee stripe sock on 2mm needles in a dark bar, after a pint of Wellington County Ale, while dancing along to the music, not only without a pattern, but without looking.

If we can knit for the Olympics...

My brother the footie fan has posited the idea of World Cup Knitting.

It's a thought.

Projects would have to be limited to appropriately coloured scarves, though.

It's like I was asking for it

My piece on repairs has been up on Knitty barely a month....

So there I am at lunch, with a member of the Knitty family, and she points out to me that the neckline of the vintage aran cardi I'm wearing is unravelling.

And I realize that this is a situation I didn't cover in my article!

(Note to knitters: keep a safety pin in your purse. Mine is attached to my little Swiss Army knife.)

Real Sheep Scarf

This stuff is lovely.

I'm particularly enjoying the sensual experience of the knitting process. The wool is barely processed, so there's lots of lanolin left in it, and it smells marvellous. It's suprisingly soft, too, for something so close to the sheep.

The striping is fairly evident -- this yarn has no dye lots, needless to say. A colourway is a rough combination of various natural colours.

Mistake stitch ribbing, easy-peasy. This is definitely a yarn that demands a simple stitch -- it needs room to tell its own story.

Incredible Indeed!

Last summer I was approached by a very nice lady at Lion Brand about my Non-cho pattern that appeared in Spun last spring.

I did it up in a couple of Lion Brand yarns and sent it off to them. I had basically forgotten about it until today, when I was surfing their site checking yardage on one of their products for a substitution... and there it was! My Non-cho in Lion Brand Incredible! (Behind a registration wall, be warned.)

Wow. I feel like I've hit the big time.

Spun Mag Spring Issue

Check it out. Some terrific patterns, interesting articles and great book reviews. And I'm not just saying that because me and some of my knit friends write for it...

Best Yarn Magazine Art Ever, also.

Real Sheep!

My brother the environmentalist is a member of an organization called "The Rare Breeds Survival Trust" in the UK. In their words, "the RBST is the leading conservation charity working to restore Britain’s native livestock breeds". He buys terrific Christmas cards from them, with beautiful images of livestock -- notably, in my opinion, the sheep. In all their natural glorious colours.

You'd think they'd sell the yarn, wouldn't you? I'd buy yarn and contribute to the Trust. You'd think they'd promote places that sell the yarn, wouldn't you? Nope. Nothing. (They do promote the sale and consumption of the meat from these animals, though.)

At the Downtown Knit Collective's Knitter's Frolic this weekend, I found Woolly Acres' "Real Shetland". It's yarn that comes in sheep colours. Undyed. Terrific tweeds and combos.

My brother is getting a scarf for his birthday.

Further on the Practicality Thing

I was in a waiting room type of situation today. With my knitting, as usual. I've picked up the Bee Stripe socks again. (I did mention I'd had to rip them back, didn't I? Anyway.) Knitting away in a waiting room.

The other waitee, an older woman, asked the inevitable question.

"Socks."

"Oh yes," she said, impressing me, "I knew it had to be socks or mitts because you're working in a circle."

"Are you a knitter?"

"My mother was. She made lots of socks and mitts."

"I like sock knitting, it's very portable."

"And practical, too."

Err... I have had many people say many crazy things about my knitting, but never that it's practical. Sock knitting with hand-dyed yarn on 2mm needles is practical? Paying $20+ dollars for the yarn, and spending hours upon hours (I hate to count, the thought frightens me) to create something I'm going to put on my feet.

Practical.

If you hear a woman telling a story about being laughed at by a redhead knitting yellow and black socks -- that was me.

Practicality vs. Art

Have I shared with you my theory about knitting generations?

My mother is a very skilled knitter but she doesn't really like doing it. Her mother, Hilda, was a knitter without parallel. No matter how skilled her work, Hilda knitted because she had to.

My mother sees knitting as her mother's drudgery, and if she doesn't have to do it she won't. I don't have the negative association. I see knitting somewhat romantically, something my beloved Grannie used to do. And so I can knit with love for the process. (I wonder if the generation after us will feel this way about ironing?)

For our grandmothers, knitting was about practicality. They were making clothes for the family. They were making garments and accessories to be used, that would last, that were to meet a need. Knitting was a chore, not an art.

I was reminded of this recently. An older friend of the family was showing me a blanket she's working on for a new baby in the family. Beautiful, detailed, lacy work... In acrylic. Cheap, nasty, rough acrylic. I could feel the pills forming as I touched it. Surely she can't be enjoying the process, knitting with such awful yarn? Surely it must be a chore.

Oh wait, it is.

Bye Erin

Just wanted to say bye to Erin. It was fun working with you, and sharing our passion for socks and music.

Safe travels and hope to see you again soon.

Taking a Good Look

Every class I teach is different. The students are at different levels; they have differing degrees of experience and confidence in their own skills.

But it's pretty universal -- all "beginner" knitters seem to have one thing in common. They don't look at what they're doing.

They're concentrating on each stitch, on reading the instructions, on holding the needles -- they're concentrating on the knitting, but not on the knitting. I looked at the work of a couple of my students this week and there were some really very obvious mistakes. For one student, it was purl stitches where there should be knits in a number of places. For another, a wholesale change of sides so that what was stocking stich became reverse stocking stitch.

And in both cases, they hadn't noticed the mistake, they said, until much later.

I read in a book, once, a long time ago, that a good knitter stands back to admire the work in progress, on a regular basis.

I tell all my students to take a good look at what they're working on. Hold it up. Examine the pattern stitch. Make sure that you're working the right direction.

I've seen fronts of sweaters with the armhole shaping only done on one side ("Oh, so that says 'at beginning and end of the row'"?) . I've seen stocking stitch reversed mid-way through a piece. I've seen purls where there should have been knits. Cables that haven't been crossed. Mis-aligned ribs.

Hey, I've done many of these myself. Every knitter makes mistakes. Even experienced ones. The difference, it seems, between a beginner and a more advanced knitter is how quickly the mistake is spotted.

Fixing mistakes is another set of skills entirely, of course. But you start by knowing where a mistake is.

OT: Rant about pleats and vents

Ok, this is OT but I have to rant somewhere...

People: That jacket you just bought, with the vent in the back. The loose thread holding the vent shut is meant to be removed before you wear it.

Oh yeah, and the same goes for the label on the sleeve of your new winter coat that brags about the cashmere content.

They're sewn very loosely so you can remove them.

Sheesh.

Repairs 101: Spring Knitty

http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEspring06/FEATrepairs101.html

The thrill and sense of pride that comes with being included in Knitty will never get old. I'm honoured to be included with such excellent company.

Fitting a Sock - Harder Than It Seems

Am working on some cotton socks. Cotton's not like wool. It stretches, it loses elasticity, and worst of all, it changes shape after washing.

So how do you make a pair of cotton socks that actually fit?

Ribbing, sure. But how tight? Really tight ribbed socks will certainly stay up (for a while at least), but oh how they clutch at the leg. Looser is great for comfort, but they're down at your ankles in no time.

All this thinking has sent me scurrying back to my myriad hand-knit wool socks. And something has occured to me: I'm making 'em too big. They're loose. Way too loose. They fall down. This is why I knit, isn't it? To make things that fit me ... little old petite small-footed fine-ankled me. So why in god's name am I knitting one-size fits all for socks? Certainly, I knit them to the right length, but what's the right width?

Hmmmm....

Different needles, different gauges: it's true!

So I indulged a bit of time in some knitting science yesterday. (This is what happens when I'm stuck at home with a cold and a lot of back episodes of CSI.)

Here's two swatches of the same yarn, on the same size needles. One was knit circularly, on dpns; the other flat.

The gauge is indeed different... I'm looser on dpns than flat. 30 sts/10cm flat, 28 sts/10cm round.

Hypothesis proven. (Note careful notations pinned to swatch.)

Meditations on a Sock Project/Bendiness

Why is 3x1 ribbing less tedious than 1x1?

And knitting with drinking straws isn't nearly as much fun as you think it might be. I tried those new Pony plastic dpns - they're yellow with red stripes. (That's weird, I can't find any reference to them online to link to them... Hmmm... .)

Very cute, but too damn flexible. Way too bendy. They may be more manageable in a different size -- I was using 2.5mm. They feel nice, and they have the right level of slight slipperiness for knitting cotton. But I found the bendiness slowed me down significantly.

Look at the picture. I mean, really! I'm hardly putting any pressure on them. Knitting needles should not bend this much.

Four Senses

I've always known knitting is a sensual experience.

It's the feel the of the yarn -- rough, silky, smooth, bumpy.

There's the look of the piece as it grows in your hands.

Consider the sound of the needles, clicking endlessly.

But scent.... Scent is rarely discusssed. I was helping some students in my class choose their projects. L eventually settled on a Handmaiden kit for a wrap, in silk. Mmm... silk... The scent of silk is distinctive and fairly strong.

Denny and I were talking about it. She suggested some washes to get rid of it, but I like it. I clearly remember a purple raw silk top I owned 15 or so years ago, and its constant, faint aroma.

So now I'm obssessing about what I'm going to knit in silk.

All about accessories at the moment

I don't know whether it's the in-between weather (14 degrees) or just me, but I can't seem to wrap my head around any actual garments at the moment.

I'm thinking scarves and socks and little capelets, but nothing with sleeves.

Flotsam Optimist

As pattern below, 11 sts. Creates a nice scarf, about 10cm wide and 150cm long.

Flotsam

Am swatching up an interesting new novelty yarn from Louisa Harding, called Flotsam. (At least it's not named after an Abba song.)

40% cotton, 35% polyamide, 15% acrylic, 10% viscose. It feels a bit like paper. Trying it out for my Optimist Scarf. It's the sort of yarn that doesn't really lend itself to a solid fabric (despite some of the supplied patterns), but makes really great low-effort, high impact accessories. A one-ball wonder. The colourways are interesting, too.

The Optimist Scarf - for Days When You're Going to Wear a Light Jacket Anyway, Mercury Be Damned

The Optimist Scarf
Two versions - a single yarn narrow version, and a wider version created with two yarns held together.

Version One: Cool Blue
Materials:
1 x 50gm Rowan Cotton Tape
1 pair 8-12 mm needles – whatever you have on hand; the sample was made with 10 mm needles

Tension:
Doesn’t matter!

Finished Measurements:
8 cm wide x 60 cm long, approximately

Version Two: Cotton Candy
Materials:
2 x 50gm Lang Opal
1 x 50gm Rowan Calmer
1 pair 8-12 mm needles – whatever you have on hand; the sample was made with 10 mm needles

Tension:
Doesn’t matter!

Finished Measurements:
20 cm wide x 60 cm long, approximately

Method:
For Version One, cast on 11 stitches.
For Version Two, using a strand each of the Calmer and the Opal held together, cast on 21 stitches.

First row (WS): knit all stitches.

RS: K1, *yfwd k2tog; repeat from * to end.
WS: Knit all stitches.
RS: K2, *yfwd, k2tog; repeat from * to last stitch, k last stitch.
WS: Knit all stitches.

Repeat the last 4 rows until you’ve just about run out of yarn. Finish with a WS row, and then cast off.

Knitting for Summer?

Am working on some designs for summer.

Knitting for summer? Does that even make sense? I used to think that summer knitting was only about the odd shawl or cardigan to drape around your shoulders in an agressively air-conditioned office.

It was actually a sock design commission that made me think differently about summer knitting. I worked on them last April, designing open-toe and flip-flop socks. It made me realize that knitting is an ideal solution for those early spring days when you really do want to wear your summer clothes (and shoes) but it's not really warm enough for them. Want to wear your flip flops? Flip flop or open-toed socks keep you warm. Want to wear a light summer dress? A shawl or cardigan or capelet will insultate you from drafts. A short-sleeve top in long-sleeve weather? How about wristwarmers? A light jacket? How about a light scarf to go with it?

There’s a wealth of patterns for these kinds of early summer projects, and some truly wonderful yarns that provide a nice compromise between warmth and weight and a summery look. Am really enjoying working with Rowan Cotton Rope – it's heavy enough to provide an actual layer of clothing insulation if you need one, and comes in light shades that conjure thoughts of flowers and seaside and ice cream treats.

And who says that scarves aren’t appropriate for summer? I have a white jean jacket that looks terrific with a colourful scarf draped over it.

And a Hat to Go With the Wristwarmers

This used up the leftovers from the 100gm ball of chunky weight yarn I used for the wristwarmers

Simple Hat
One Size Fits All

Materials:
1 100gm ball chunky weight yarn
(approx. 100m)
1 pair 6mm needles

Tension:
20 sts and 20 rows over 10cm/4” square in K2 P2 rib (unstretched) using 6mm needles.

Finished Measurements:
50cm/20” around, approximately
20cm/8” long

Method:
Cast on 70 stitches.

Row 1 (Right Side): *K2, P2; repeat from * to last 2 stitches, K2.
Row 2 (Wrong Side): *P2, K2; repeat from * to last 2 stitches, P2.

These two rows establish K2 P2 rib pattern. Repeat Row 1 and 2 until hat measures 18cm/7”, ending with a Wrong Side row.

Complete final 6 rows of hat as follows:
Row 1: *K2, P2tog; repeat to last 2 stitches, K2. 53 stitches.
Row 2: *P2, K1; repeat from * to last 2 stitches, P2.
Row 3: *K2tog, P1; repeat from * to last 2 stitches, K2tog. 35 stitches.
Row 4: *P1, K1; repeat from * to last stitch, P1.
Row 5: *K2tog; repeat from * across row. 18 stitches.
Row 6: *P2tog; repeat from * across row. 9 stitches.

Cut yarn, leaving a 30cm/12” tail. Draw yarn through final stitches and pull to tighten. Use the yarn tail to seam up the hat.

The Moebius: Indeed A Mind-Melter

Another one to file under "because I had to". I picked up a kit for Cat Bordhi's Moebius capelet on the weekend, and had it finished by Monday evening.

Denny, who has a nice sideline as Moebius cast-on consultant, got me started. She even let me steal a circular needle from her current WIP. Now that's friendship!

Being a mathematician, I do understand what happens... and it's very, very cool. But I'll be damned if I can figure out how Cat worked it out. I'm in awe of her spatial skills.

Another UFO

I was in the shop today. A woman came in carrying a bag that was clearly identifiable as a UFO. She admitted it was probably 20 years old, and had been abandoned for the last 15. She had picked it up again recently and needed some help getting going again.

We've all been there, as I've discussed before.

She took us through the project. It was mostly done. The back was complete, as were the sleeves. Here's where it got a little silly, though... "Well, I didn't like the stripes so I bought all one colour yarn."

Ok, no issue there.

"And I only want two buttons."

Uh-huh.

"And I don't like the fact that the placket is done in a different yarn."

"And I don't like the neckline or collar."

Errr...

Again, I've been there, wanting to make changes to a design. I've used a commercial pattern as the basis or inspiration for a garment many times.

Here's the kicker.

"But I'm not a very good knitter."

I thought Erin was going to run out of the store screaming. I enjoy a challenge, so I had no problems taking it on as a paid design job.

But who on earth sold this poor woman a pattern she dislikes so much??? No wonder she abandoned it.

Free Pattern: Wristwarmers (What I did while waiting for the Olympics to start)

Size:
Small (Teen), Large (Adult)

Materials:
100m chunky weight yarn
1 pair 6mm needles

Tension:
Approximately 20 sts and 20 rows over 10cm/4” square in K2 P2 rib (unstretched) using 6mm needles.

Finished Measurements:
15cm/6” around, approximately
20cm/8” long

Method:
Where two numbers appear, the first is for the Small size, the second for Large. When only one number appears, it applies to both sizes.

Cast on 26 (30) stitches.

Row 1 (Right Side): *K2, P2; repeat from * to last 2 stitches, K2.
Row 2 (Wrong Side): *P2, K2; repeat from * to last 2 stitches, P2.

These two rows establish K2 P2 rib pattern. Repeat Row 1 and 2 until gauntlet measures 4cm/1.5”, ending with a Wrong Side row.

Right gauntlet thumbhole:
Next row (RS): Work 8 (9) stitches in pattern, cast off 3 (4) stitches, work in pattern to end.
Following row (WS): Work 15 (17) stitches in pattern, cast on 3 (4) over gap created by cast-off in previous row, work in pattern to end.

Left gauntlet thumbhole:
Next row (RS): Work 15 (17) stitches in pattern, cast off 3 (4) stitches, work in pattern to end.
Following row (WS): Work 8 (9) stitches in pattern, cast on 3 (4) over gap created by cast-off in previous row, work in pattern to end.

Continue from here in K2 P2 pattern, until gauntlet measures 20cm/8”.

Cast off loosely in pattern.

Seam.

So very proud

Looking for Inspiration/A Confession

I've been flipping through books and magazines seeking a new project, something to challlenge and entertain me. A couple of things of interest in the Winter Vogue Knitting -- love the short aran cardi but as usual I'd have to modify the pattern to get anything like a decent fit. I like being petite, I do, but it's sometimes a huge amount of work trying to get something to fit nicely.

I'm finding myself drawn to the lace designs. I'm looking at shawl patterns and stoles and strange wrappy-things with sleeves, all in lace. I even picked up and seriously looked through A Gathering of Lace in the bookstore the other night. Looked at it not as I used to, with mouth hanging open in fear and disgust. But I looked at it through different eyes... the eyes of a budding lace knitter, perhaps?

What have I done?

Flailing, A Bit

Still in post-Olympic letdown, I think. Still looking for a meaty project to sink my teeth into.

The Malizia shawl idea was dismissed after an evening... didn't like it on small needles, didn't like it on big.

Then I thought I'd give the Feather & Fan shawl a go, in my Noro leftovers. Turns out I don't have as much in the way of leftovers as I thought I had.... lots of ends, but only a couple of partial balls. So I dug out the Fleece Artist Country wool, hoping that the mismatched colourways wouldn't be so obvious in that design.

I spent two evenings ignoring everything I'd learnt with my Olympic project. No markers, wasn't checking my count, no lifeline. I ripped it back three times in total, right to the beginning. I rewrote the instructions so that a) they print on a single page I can leave on my lap and b) fit my counting style better. And I placed a bunch of markers, and evening three marked the first real progress. It's cute, I like working it, and and I like the look, but I'm not sure I'd actually use or wear it. So it's either for a gift or for wrapping around me while I watch TV, depending on when I finish and how I feel about it when I'm done.

The travelling bee sock project is coming along well, though.

Feeling Oddly Bereft

What now? The shawl is done.

Sunday evening at home I was forced to pick up my travelling sock project and by the end of House Monday night I was done.

On the way to work this morning I cast on for the next travelling sock project. I'm rarely without a sock-in-progress in a little nylon bag; I carry it with me for emergency knitting. I get most of the work done during my commute, but I've worked on travelling socks in many places... Bars, restaurants, the doctor's and dentist's waiting room, at the streetcar stop, in the line-up to get my driver's license renewed, and once (only once) under my desk while listening to a marathon conference call. I've got Shepherd Sock bee stripe underway, and the below-mentioned killer Christmas sock variation lined up after that.

But I'm without a big "at home knitting" project right now and it's a bit scary.

Ideas in consideration:
-that Teva Durham double-knit vest
-a feather and fan shawl in all my Noro Kureyon and Silk Garden leftovers -- inspired by this "Feather and Fan comfort shawl"; I've been looking for a way to use up all my leftovers and this might be it
-a scarf for an impossible-to-buy-for relative's upcoming birthday made from leftovers of Malizia I've got lying around

Am not in a sweater mood; am seemingly in a shawl mood, though...

Knitting Olympics: Post-Game Analysis

Lacework is both entirely similar and entirely unlike to cable knitting. It's all about texture, which I love. It's all about watching patterns grow and take shape over time. It's also all about placing markers and counting and keeping track -- all with great care.

Lace and cable work require a high degree of attention. (Movies with subtitles are totally out of the question.)

I enjoy a challenge, so you'd think I'd enjoy knitting lace.

I haven't, in the past -- see previous posts on this topic -- and I pondered this question while working away on my shawl.

I think it's simply that I don't have as much control and understanding as I do with cables. I understand cables, in my bones. I can work them with my eyes closed. I can fix them - often in place, without even ripping rows back -- and I'm able to spot and diagnose a mistake simply by looking.

I'm not there yet with lace. I can sometimes spot a mistake just by looking at the knitting -- but not always. Most of the mistakes I found in the shawl were because my count was off, not because it looked or felt wrong. And mistakes are much harder to fix -- in all but a couple of cases I've ended up ripping back entire rows. (Thank god for the lifeline.) And I can't predict how a stitch will look by just reading the directions or looking at the charts.

A lot of this is to do with familiarity with the shapes and patterns, absolutely, but some of it is to do with the magical process of blocking. Lace changes completely upon blocking. I thought the Olympic shawl was kinda neat before I blocked it; I was blown away by the final result. Blocking for cables helps with construction and finish, but it's not as integral to creating the structure of the finished piece.

I advise my beginning students to stop fairly often and take a good look at their work -- to admire their progress, to check for mistakes, and to count their stitches. I consider myself an advanced knitter, and I wasn't taking my own advice.

And to properly look at lace knitting requires a good stretch -- stretch it out to mimic blocking, to see how it lies, how it looks, and what it's doing.

How many times did I want to throw it across the room? Twice. Once when I found the catastrophic mistake in the lace, the second time when completing the border... 8 rows of 300+ stitches in garter stitch.

Did I enjoy it? Yes, actually, I did.

Will I knit lace again? I just might. It strikes me that lace knitting is ideal for long stretches of plane travel, and the like, when I need something more absorbing than the average knitting project.

I'm proud of my Gold Medal: I achieved a challenging goal, I learnt a new skill, and now I've got my mother's birthday present all taken care of.

Knitting Olympics Day 10: Gold!

Done!

Note sophisticated blocking system -- involving a garbage bag, two old towels and the bedroom floor. Am now accepting bets on how long before we find the cat asleep on it.

Knitting Olympics Day 9: The Home Stretch

Lace pattern repeats are complete. Only the border and cast-off remain. (Note sock-yarn lifeline visible a pattern repeat from the top. Not only did I use one, but I moved it up on a regular basis. PITA, but it's entirely worth it.)

And, of course, the blocking.

Knitting Olympics Day 8: Back on Track

Error hidden, a full pattern repeat completed, and a new lifeline threaded.

Only two pattern repeats (of six) left in the lace portion, and then it's a simple garter edging.

Now to start figuring out what to do about a blocking board...

Knitting Olympics Day 7: Double Argh

So the thing about a lifeline is that it only really works if you thread it through a row that's correct. Grrr... spent a good half hour threading a lifeline, worked for a good couple of hours on the knitting, and then discovered a mistake... which originated below the lifeline. Not the same mistake that's visible in the Day 5 picture, either.

So not much progress yesterday. No photos, too demoralizing.

I pulled back to the lifeline and will fudge it there.

Learning, always learning.

Knitting Olympics Newsflash!

ARRGGHHHH....

just spotted a misplaced YO in the photo from day 5.

Too far back to fix in situ. Argh.

Knitting Olympics Day 6: Moving Right Along

I'm getting the hang of it.

No lifelife visible, but I have been using one. Very reassuring, if time-consuming to set up.

Knitting Olympics Newsflash!

A lifeline! Genius! Why did I not know about this before?

Thank you, blogosphere.

Knitting Olympics Day 5: Onto the Difficult Bit

The lace has started in earnest. It's all lace all the time now.

It's taking me just about half an hour to do a pair of rows -- the complicated RS and the simpler-but-still-requires-counting WS.

I did get 8 rows done last night, between a CSI and an episode of House. But it is MUCH harder to pay attention to the TV when I'm working on this project.

But I acheived an amazing thing last night: I fixed a mistake a couple of rows back, without having to rip the whole thing back. I moved a misplaced YO.

So yes, I'm learning.

And you know, it's looking pretty good.

Knitting Olympics Day 4: That Pride/Fall Thing

There I was, all smug. Was doing so well on the garter stitch. Maybe it was just such a good episode of Buffy (Season 6 Episode 3, FWIW), but I lost it.

I messed up the simple yo increase at the end of the row, and ended up having to rip back two rows (which at 220-some stitches takes a while).

So it took longer than I'd hoped to get to the lace portion. I've done 4 rows, if you include the one where you just place the markers. Which I do, dammit. And I've only had to rip back two partial rows so far.

I guess lace knitters mustn't watch TV when they knit.

Knitting Olympics Day 3: Good Progress

Well, it is mostly garter stitch, and it was the weekend. I'm thrilled to report that I'm roughly a third done, based on yarn consumption.

(The safety pin marks the RS, in case you were wondering.)

Tonight I will be finishing up the first half of the biathalon, and moving into the more challenging portion -- the lace.

Knitting Olympics Day 2: Getting Going

A couple of Bleak Houses, half a CSI, some luge and pairs skating short programs later...

I rather like it so far.

You'll notice no lace to speak of yet in this lace shawl. Consider it a biathalon: a stretch of garter stitch with yarn over increases and then the last third is all lace.

Knitting Olympics Day 1: A Weak Start

I'll be honest, mistakes were made.

The biggest of which was having a beer after work then heading immediately out for a large Italian meal with more drinks. The second biggest was casting on at 11:30pm.

But hey, at least I've started.

And we'll see whether the carbo-loading helps or hinders my performance today.

Finding it very hard to think about work today...

I'm officially on the list!

2pm approaches, and here I am at work, trying very hard to concentrate and not having much luck.

With needles poised...

Living Dangerously

I've got other people swatching. But I haven't swatched for my Olympic project.

It's a shawl, and I know that the the yarn I've chosen is an equal weight substitution.

But still, I HAVEN'T SWATCHED.

Hey, That's My Left Ear

Nice piece in last Saturday's National Post about places that offer knitting classes. Great profile of The Sheep, and a lovely picture of me pretending to be a student in my own sock knitting workshop.

That's Rogue I'm wearing.

Dilettante?

I needed some inexpensive yarn and needles for a class I'm teaching, so I made a trip out to the 'burbs to visit a Big Box Purveyor of Craft Supplies Which Shall Remain Nameless.

I should make a point of visiting one of these stores every few months to remind myself how lucky I am to have access to such great yarns and books in Toronto's stores. The Big Box stock is horrendous. It's all acrylic-based chunky and larger novelty yarns. The selection is three times what it was five or six years ago, but it's all pretty horrible stuff.

It was instructive to look around at the clientele, at what they were buying. 250gm balls of 100% acrylic worsted weight yarns for $2.97. I couldn't actually bring myself to touch it.

I wandered over to see the needle selection -- at least they had a good quantity of bamboos. An older woman (70+, I'd say), was helping a middle-aged novice knitter choose some needles for a scarf project. The novice was cradling a couple of balls of a very common brand eyelash yarn. The older woman was pointing her to 4mm needles.

I'm not sure what possessed me to actually get involved -- perhaps the desperate look on the face of the novice.

I took one look at the yarn and leapt in and suggested something "a bit larger". "Oh, no," said Older Woman. "You should never do a scarf on needles that big.... it would have holes in it." I pointed out the gauge indicator on the ball band -- which suggested 8mm needles. "It will be great with the needles the yarn manufacturer suggests. It would certainly be eaiser to work with than on much smaller needles."

"Oh, no, no, no. Definitely not." The Older Woman was giving me this terrible look -- how dare I correct her? How dare I question her expertise? "I made this scarf," she said, with a touch of aggression. I hadn't noticed her garter stitch fun-fur scarf until she held it up for me to admire.

I briefly considered pulling off my boots to show her the Fair Isle fingering weight socks I not only knit but also designed... but took a deep breath and went in search of Diet Coke instead.

Once I got over the implication that I was a mere dilettante, (although I did take some small consolation from the fact that I obviously look too young and too hip to be a serious knitter) I wondered about how many potential knitters we've lost.

How many knitters have been been scared off because they didn't enjoy working with the acrylic/fun-fur/novelty yarns that have seemed to become the standard of late? Yes, the results look interesting, but they're just about the most difficult and least pleasurable yarns to work with, even for an experienced knitter.

How many knitters have been put off by the well-meant but misguided advice of another ill-informed knitter? You couldn't pay me to knit a chunky weight eyelash yarn on 4mm needles, even if it was in a light colour.

And how many more knitters are there who will never progress beyond scarves, because they find those difficult enough?

On Your Marks...

I'm ready. The yarn, the pattern book, the needle. I emailed my official declaration of participation to the Harlot this morning.

I am proud to become a member of Team Canada for the 2006 Knitting Olympics.

And I've still got a few days to stock up on chocolate (my performancing-enhancing drug of choice) before we begin.

There's also the minor detail of two other deadlined design projects to get done before Friday, but hey, I'll consider it training.

Lacking Mojo?

Sometimes it's just not there.

It took, inexplicably, four tries to finish the toe for this sock. This is not my first sock, by any means. (Ok, it was mostly done in public while trying to do something else at the same time.) I messed up stitch counts, I messed up row counts, I decreased too quickly or too slowly. Argh.

I got it done, though, after I'd ripped it back four times.

I guess it's a different kind of mojo: the need to get it right. Would it have fit and worn ok if I'd left it with any of the mistakes I'd made? No question. Would anyone else have known? Of course not. But I'd have known and it would have annoyed me.

The Beginner's Knitting Bag/Supplies and Tools

Opening the UFO bag put a big smile on my face. In addition to the half finished project, the remaining yarn, the required needles and the pattern, the bag contained 3 other pairs of needles in unrelated sizes, a single needle with a broken tip and another unrelated pattern.

I remember those days, back when I could keep all my knitting tools in my knitting bag. Back when I only had one knitting bag in which I kept my current project with all those tools.

Now? Well, I always have at least two bags with active projects in them -- the portable project and the home project. And then there's always a couple of "less active" projects lying around -- sometimes just a pattern and the yarn set aside, sometimes a UFO or a design-in-progress.

My supplies and tools? I have two cardboard tubes that used to store scotch bottles for my needles -- a taller and a shorter. Then another, flatter box with a lid for things like cable needles, stitch markers and the like. (This used to contain a fancy wine-bottle opener. I sense an interesting trend... ) These I keep in a cupboard with all my sock yarn, below my two shelves of knitting books. Beside this is the desk in which I keep more yarn, design projects on the go, and assorted magazines and notes.

The bag that's with me the most is a largish clear-sided pencil case. In this bag I keep my most critical tools: scissors, pencil and eraser, a small notebook, calculator, stitch holders, a needle gauge/ruler, a couple of crochet hooks in different sizes, a tape measure, and an Altoids tin containing stitch markers, 3 different sizes of darning needles, and lots of safety pins.

This pencil case tool bag moves around between project bags. I never go to a class or workshop without it. I have an edited version that I've built for carrying on planes.

Chefs carry their own knives with them. Me, I carry my tool bag.

Finishing & Knitting for Money

I've finished up the UFO commission. Fixed the front neckline, worked the top halves of the sleeves, assembled and knit the v-neck trim. Easy. And about 10 hours' work.

Doesn't photograph well, being a tweedy dark blue yarn, but you get the idea.

This is, as I mentioned, a paid gig. But what on earth do I charge? My usual hourly teaching rate would put this in the range of something designed by Burberry. And yes, I did take the time to weave in my ends, but that still doesn't mean it's worth that much.

The work was done for a friend of a very dear person in my life, so I'm happy to charge a sensible amount and keep the friendship, but holy cow is knitting-for-money an absurd proposition.

I get asked fairly often why I don't sell my work, my finished objects. I'm sure every knitter gets this question. I buy very good materials, and I'm a busy professional with two paid gigs. Even if I charged my lesser hourly rate, a simple pair of hand-knit socks would cost hundreds of dollars.

Sock yarn: $20
Hours to knit the socks: 10
Sitting on the couch with the dog watching Season 5 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Priceless

UFOs - A Meditation on the Abandoned Challenge

I'm currently finishing up a sweater for an acquaintance. It's a paid gig -- "whatever it costs", she said.

It's a straighforward 5x2 ribbed v-neck sweater for her young son, in an acrylic-blend chunky yarn.

The project was handed to me in a nice bag, zipped up tight in a way that suggested that it was never going to be opened again without some help. The story goes that she bought it up at the cottage one rainy weekend and made a lot of progress in the initial week or two of knitting. The back was complete and perfect when delivered to me, and the sleeves were half-finished, both being worked at the same time. The front was cast off, but something had gone wrong in the working of the v-neck. The knitter knew enough to know it was wrong, but didn't have the confidence (or patience, maybe) to fix it.

Fixing the neckline was simple, no more than an hour's worth of knitting in front of the TV Sunday night. I called her to let her know I'd fixed it. She asked me to finish it up for her -- "whatever it costs". She just wants it to be done and off her conscience, I think. I know that feeling very well, I think every knitter does.

We've all done it. All knitters have a few UFOs in the back of the cupboard; some have more than others. I hate an unfinished project; I obssess about them. I *need* to finish them. I will, most often, just finish the damn thing, but I'd still rather rip something out than leave it half-completed.

My two worst UFO experiences were both sock-related...

There's the Turkish sock variation. I started the Turkish socks from The Spin-Off Socks Special Edition sometime around 1998. I got the first one done but then discovered that the damn thing didn't fit. It's got an odd heel shaping, and I was knitting far too tightly (first stranded fair isle project) so I couldn't actually get it on.

So I ripped it back to above the heel, adapted the pattern for a standard heel, and completed it. I cast on for the second, worked about 2 cm, and then abandoned it. The completed one was a great sock -- I would look at it sometimes in my knitting box and admire it -- and I did want to do the second. I was being discouraged by a simple thing... the finished sock looked much tighter than the 2cm of the second sock. I figured I was doing something different somehow, and that the pair would never match. It bugged me, though. I liked the sock, and I'd enjoyed the knitting.

I started taking the finished one to my sock knitting workshops to show as an example of fair isle colourwork in socks. Every time I pulled it out of my bag, I felt of pang of want, of sadness, of disappointment that I'd never made its mate. So this summer I sat down, dusted off the original pattern and my insufficient notes, and finished the second. It took a while to figure out how to match the tension (I'm a better fair isle knitter now than I was back then), and what modifications I'd made, but I did it. And they're a seriously great pair of socks.

The second sock UFO is the Vogue Knitting Christmas socks to which I alluded earlier. I should have known, really. Knitted flat, intarsia holly leaves and vines in 4 or 5 different colours (two shades of green), of course I was going to hate it. And I did. I started it around the same time as the Turkish sock, and I got part of one done before I zipped the project up tight in a bag.

About 18 months ago, I sought expert help from Abby, who suggested that I cut back on the intarsia and do the holly leaves in duplicate stitch after the fact, but even the simplified variant was a tough slog. I managed to get the first one mostly completed, but my attempt to seam the damn thing pointed out what seems to me like a failure in the design -- no selvedge for the seam so I'd have to eat into the ribbing to create one, breaking the rhythm and look of the cables. So back they went into a plastic bag at the back of the cupboard.

They were UFOs for different reasons. With the Turkish sock I was being stopped by what was really a minor problem of gauge. I knew that once I could deal with that, the knitting was going to be enjoyable for me.

The Christmas sock is a different story. It was unpleasant to work on. Yes, I liked the result but hated the process.

Hence a UFO, and a dilemma. I'd either have to suffer through the pain of knitting the second one -- with all the intarsia and duplicate stitch and seaming I hate-- or abandoning the project entirely.

Just last week I bit the bullet and ripped out that disastrous Christmas sock, and sketched out a design to keep the elements I liked best and use up the yarn. It will be an all-over cabled sock, with a couple of cm red at the top, and red heels and toes. I may even go wild and bend one of my own rules and knit the foot portion flat so the sole can use up the darker green and the instep can be in the lighter green. But if I do, I'll ensure there's a selvedge to seam up neatly. And I know I'll be able to get the damn things done and enjoy the process the same time.

Olympic Project

It's decided: a lace shawl.

As I said the other day, if I really want to stay in the spirit of the event, lace knitting is my ultimate challenge.

I have completed three projects that would qualify as lace knitting. I did two mohair stole/shawl things back in the late 1990s. The same design -- my own -- mostly garter stitch with a pattern of eyelets forming diamond shapes around the edge. The mohair wasn't very fine, and the lace wasn't too bad as there was only one repeat of the pattern running down each side of the piece, and at its widest the pattern was 12 or so stitches wide. Not too much room for error, and not too fiddly as I was working with lighter colours in a fairly heavy mohair on largish needles.

And then there's the triplets' layettes. Wyla was making three layettes for her impending grand-triplets. Partway through the project she broke her arm. I offered to finish them up. Each layette had a cardigan, a bonnet and a pair of bootees. Very classic and elegant -- old school, if you will -- with a fine scalloped edging. She'd managed to complete one bonnet before the accident. That left me with 3 cardigans, 2 bonnets and six bootees. It nearly killed me. I was working with horrible acrylic yarn, on long, fine metal needles, to a deadline. In hindsight, a change of needles would have helped immeasurably, but I gamely forged ahead with the supplies I was given. I got the project done, but there was much ripping out and using of foul language and knitting in the cafeteria at work at lunchtime (which was a bad scene for a whole list of reasons). The depressing part was that it was only the edging that was in the slightest lacy. The body of these damn pieces was garter stitch.

I finished the last piece the day before the shower. I'm not sure the triplets ever actually wore the damn things, but, as they say, it's the thought.

And then there's the fact that I'm not really a lace kind of girl. I'm all about clean lines and simplicity and minimal adornment. So lace doesn't appeal as something to wear. That having been said, I found the beauty and complexity of lace patterns incredibly compelling. Birch, for example. Stunning. Hypnotic, even. I own a copy of Folk Shawls even though I never in a million years actually thought I'd knit something from it. Certainly I'd never wear any of them.

All of which goes to say that my Olympic Challenge is a lace shawl.

A wise knitter I know (Denny) suggested that the Wool Peddler's shawl is probably a good place to start, as it's not all-over lace. Part of me thinks this might be a cop-out, but hey, walk before you run. Perhaps the real challenge is to get it knitted within the deadline and cast on for Birch in Kidsilk Haze....

And for those of you knitting Rogue for the challenge... easy-peasy. I completed my Rogue in about 3 weeks without breaking a sweat. ;-)

Oh yeah, and if it works out well, I can give the shawl to my mother as her birthday present in early March.

8-ply and Waffling

Well, duh. No wonder I couldn't make the math work. 8-ply is a DK, not a worsted.

But the girls at the Sheep were applying some light peer pressure today re: my Olympic project. It's true that that this is about finding a proper challenge -- and my challenge is lace knitting. So a lace shawl seems like it would be the thing to do. We chose the Wool Peddler's Shawl in Folk Shawls, and I tried very hard to choose some yarn, but I couldn't find enough in a colour I liked that wouldn't kill me (that is, not black).

So I will continue to look around and think.

The Wool Peddler has a fair bit of garter stitch to get me moving. Since this is my first lace project (Clapotis doesn't count), I think I need to keep it pretty simple. Although I do like some of the full-lace ones in the book, I might die.

Socks, Elections and Olympics

Am thinking about the Knitting Olympics, absolutely. We have a more important TV event to knit through before then, though... the election on Monday. I'm hoping, frankly, that it will be a good night of television in that I fear the Tories will do very well, and I really need the races to be close so that they don't get the majority the pollsters are predicting. Although I am absolutely anti-Tori for a multitude of reasons, it's got to the point that I feel that the best I can hope for is them to form a minority government. (The depressing nature of this is a whole separate screed for another time.) I'm planning to knit socks, as I can knit on autopilot, no matter how excited/tense/despressed I might be.

(No matter what your politics, please exercise your right to vote.)

I'm going through a sock thing at the moment. Am into my second pair of Fleece Artist merino socks, this time trying a 3x1 rib for the leg and upper foot. This colourway has been dubbed "1970s appliance". (It's a bit lighter than the picture shows, all avocado and harvest.)

I wore the first Fleece Artist pair (2 inches of ribbing at the topic but otherwise all st st) this week and found they got rather baggy by the end of the day. I'm hoping that the 3x1 will stay tighter. Am washing the first pair today so we'll see how they hold up.

Have even cooked up a design to use up the 2 shades of green, red and white sock yarn that I bought for the long-ago abandoned Holly Leaf socks from the first Vogue Knitting on the Go Sock book. Love the design but there's two major problems with it -- they're knitted flat, which I think it absurd, and they're a nightmare of intarsia. I got halfway through one, had to scale back the colour work, and it still nearly killed me. I unravelled it last week, four or so years after starting the damn socks, and have some ideas cooking for how to make my own Christmas sock.

Also bought a skein of Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock bee stripe.

On the topic of the Olympics, though, I'm a bit frustrated. The suggested yarn for the Teva Durham double-knit vest, Heirloom from Australia, is hard to find in North America, let alone in Canada. Have emailed the distributor asking if anyone carries it that might be able to ship it to me, and I haven't had a reply. Of course, I can make a substitution, but am finding the gauge information about the two yarns somewhat vague... it's an Ozzie 8-ply, which I think is a worsted but it might also be an aran. Need to do more research.

My other thought, keeping to the idea of making it a challenge, is to knit a lace shawl. Or perhaps lace socks? I think I'm more likely to wear lace socks than a shawl. Regardless, I've got a bit more time to consider.

The Knitting Olympics

The Yarnharlot is a sick, sick woman and I love her for it. The gauntlet has been thrown down.

The timing actually works out.... Feb 10 to 26. I have a writing/designing deadline of Feb 15, but this would encourage me to get that completed in good time.

I think it would have to be the Loop-D-Loop double-knit vest. It's either that or the Mukluks.

Yes, about those Mukluks. I've gone kinda quiet about them, haven't I? Well, here's the thing... I got my copy of the issue of Interweave Knits over the Christmas break, and having looked at the pattern in person, I'm not as amused. I'd never wear the damn things. Not that I haven't gone there before, viz. Clapotis, but it's not like this they're a particularly cool or interesting new technique for me. Plus I'd have to buy the yarn (Clapotis was a stash-buster). I wouldn't wear them outdoors, and I can't wear them at home on our hardwood floors. Unless I wanted to invent a new Olympic floor-sliding event.

Hmmm...

I shall consult with the girls from the Sheep and see what kind of peer pressure they're going to apply.

A Blast from the Past: Mismatched Needles

Odd needles. Remember that? Didn't everybody's mother knit a vest with this technique in some kind of nasty angora/acrylic blend to wear over a polyester blouse?

This Rowan Cotton Rope worked with one 6mm needle and one 20mm needle.

After having struggled with a student's first drop stitch project in a recent class (not a good idea in a highly textured yarn), this seems like a good cheat.

Am noodling on this for a summer design.

A Pair of Socks

FO!

Love the yarn, but as I've said before I'm a little worried about wear. It's 100% washable merino. Should I have knitted in some reinforcement for the heels?

Another pair pending, in a yellow-green mix.

On a different note, it's good to hear that I'm not the only knitter that sometimes has to spend an entire evening fixing mistakes and making no progress at all.

The Vass Variation & A Crisis Narrowly Missed

A much better fit than the original design; very happy with it. And I'm pleased with the colour progression, afer all that fretting. The stripes don't quite line up on the sides, but it's fairly close.

Great fun to knit, and the sewing-up wasn't too boring.

This sweater is an interesting sartorial departure for me.... way more colours than I'm used to. I'm planning to wear it to my class tomorrow night to get some feedback. The sleeves are also going to take some getting used to -- they're sort of lumpy.

As for the crisis, check this out...

That yarn tail is how much I had left of the final ball when I'd cast off the final row. Those last couple of rows were nail-biters. I wasn't totally out of yarn, so I could have fudged a solution, but it wouldn't have been a smooth fix, because I would have had to add in a different colour.

Progress on the Vass Variation

Looking good. It has indeed brightened up. For your reference, the colourways used are 153, 139, 134, 138, 154. I'm currenly heading back down the other side, and am reversing the order of the colours.

I will confess that I rewound the second 138 ball so that I started at the other end. I wanted to get roughly the same order of stripes on the downward knit as on the upward knit. I will likely do the same with the second ball of 154, too. I was secretly hoping they'd line up at the sides, too, but that's not going to happen.

I should really just relax and remember Brandon Mably's exhortations from that workshop last October... more can indeed be less.

This also means that I'm approaching the end of this project. What next? I've been noodling on a design for a dog sweater, and have some mitten ideas in mind, too.

A Project?

Just finished the book Julie & Julia, written by Julie Powell, the Long Island secretary who cooked her way through all 524 recipes of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking (Volume 1 -- I understand this detail is important) in a single year. It's a companion to the blog she wrote while completing the project.

I read the blog a few times and was amused, amazed and awe-struck by the whole thing. It's a good read, if more of a general memoir than just a book about cooking.

It made me wonder -- what would be the equivalent feat for a knitter? Knitting every single Elizabeth Zimmerman design? I'd need more than a year, though. Knitting everything in her Knitter's Almanac wouldn't be out of reach. Of course, it would help if I liked her designs. I admire her technical ability, her sense of inventiveness, and her innovation, but I really can't get excited about the shapes she creates. Not what I'd call flattering.

Something to ponder, anyway.