Clapotis Mark II is Done

Jitterbug Bright Charcoal gets a 10/10 for Clapotis-suitability.

Compare and contrast the aran-weight Sarubia version with the sock-yarn version. (I did do two extra repeats in the straight section for the Jitterbug version so it's not quite a fair comparision.)

Product vs. Process

There are people who knit to produce -- to create something, to wear, to display, to make a statement, to give as a gift.

There are others among us who knit for the process. I'm one of these. I will cheerfully spend hours creating something without a single thought to who will wear it -- or indeed whether it would ever be worn at all.

Designers, I think, have to be process knitters. Or at least those who knit their own samples. I've knitted all sorts of things that will never be worn by anyone -- store samples, samples for photography and the like. I've also knitted things that I've immediately taken apart -- design ideas that didn't work.

I've knitted many things for the sake of it, because the technique or construction has interested me. Toe socks. Thrummed mittens. And notably, lace. Those who know me well know that I'm not a lacy sort of girl, but I love knitting lace. My very first lace project I gave away, but others languish at home, collecting dust. I occasionally use the Highland shawl as a wrap when I'm watching TV, and the cat has taken to sitting on it. The cat's paw shawl sometimes goes with me to class to show off the technique. I will, I'm quite sure, continue to knit lace and will continue to struggle with what to do with the output.

(In fact, I've just started the Swallowtail shawl from last fall's Interweave mag in Sea Silk, just because I wanted something different. Looks nice. Anyone willing to bet whether I'll ever actually wear it?)

And then there's the Elizabeth Zimmerman Ribwarmer. I've knitted the damn thing twice, in two different yarns. In both cases, it was no more than a couple of days before I undid the entire thing. It's a great design -- all short row garter stitch, in one piece, lots of corners and cleverness. But, dare I say, it's kinda ugly and ill-fitting. At least on me. Maybe if I was shaped a bit differently? The first time I knitted it, about 12 or 13 years ago, I used a great long-discontinued purple tweedy shade of Galway.. Now, fashions were different then, and a cropped fit vest wasn't really in tune with the rest of my wardrobe.

As styles changed, and as I acquired a bag full of Noro Sarubia in a trade, I thought that the Ribwarmer would be a good idea. Nope. Once again, loved the process, but hated the result. With any other yarn, I probably would have given it away, or kept it as a sample -- but I ripped it out almost immediately and the yarn was repurposed to a happier end.

There are, absolutely, times when I will knit something because I want to wear the result -- Handmaiden's Jane is currently on my needles, and I'm dying to wear it. But for the most part, I'm a process knitter.

It's clear that it's possible to enjoy both process and product knitting, but I have to wonder if people lean more strongly towards one or the other? Does it change as a knitter gets more skilled, more experienced?

Considering Placement

Nathan the Cat helps me consider the placement of my squares for Lizard Ridge...


I am all blocked, and the styrofoam has been retired. It was a brilliant solution, if I do say so myself. The squares dried quickly because of the big open space, and the styrofoam withstood 24 pinnings-and-unpinnings with no complaints.

Clapperbug?

Nice, eh?

Looks like it will only take two skeins of the Jitterbug to complete my Clapotis v2007. Which means I'm going to have to knit a pair of socks with the third skein. Does anyone else have socks to match their Clapotis? Surely I'm not the only one.

And Amy's post (waaay down near the bottom) made me realize that I'm not the only one to have experienced a relapse of the Clap.

Block, blocking away...

12 of 24 done. Note the difference in size between the blocked and unblocked squares. It's taking a while, because I've only got one piece of styrofoam.

Next up: considering the placement. This may well take longer than the blocking...

Iro Bolero

I have a Noro problem. It's true. I love their yarns. For someone like me who is fairly cautious about colour, the Noro yarns provide an easy way to introduce some fun colour into your knitting (and wardrobe). Let the genius of Noro choose the colour combinations for you.

Noro Iro is one of their greatest yarns - not just because of the colours - but because it feels softer than many, and it's chunky, so it knits up quickly and easily. It's not the cheapest of their yarns, so I knew that whatever I did with it had to be economical about yarn.

I worked up this bolero design - inspired by a piece I keep seeing around - to create a high-impact piece that keep yarn usage to a minimum. And I love it.

It's a great first sweater project, suitable for newer (or just impatient!) knitters.

Substitute any yarn that knits to 12 sts/4 inches, and you need only 240-360 yds of yarn, depending the size. It's top-down, so you can work it as long as you like - or until you run out of yarn, making it an ideal stash-buster. And you don't even need to make a buttonhole - at that gauge, just push the button through a hole in the fabric!

Pattern available on Patternfish and Ravelry.



The eagle-eyed may notice that this is similar to some other bolero patterns out there. It's true - this ain't exactly an original idea. I, naturally, think mine is better! One of the key reasons is that I've made the edgings harmonious - it's k1 p1 ribbing all the way through, rather than a somewhat visually disruptive garter edge at the fronts.

The Matador Variation Mark II

This time using Noro Iro. Worked top down so I could make the most out of the two skeins of Iro.


Again, the edging is different from the original pattern, and it's longer, but otherwise it's the same cropped raglan fastening-less short-sleeve cardi thingy. I guess Bolero would be the right word.

(I really do think that if you're doing the top and bottom edges in K1P1, to do the front edges in garter looks a little odd. I worked the first and last 4 stitches of the row in a K1 P1 K1 P1 pattern, and it creates a nice, neat, fairly subtle non-rolling edge that harmonizes with the top and bottom edges.)

Found this online, and it's basically what I did -- a top down Matador. Again, it has the garter ridges at the front. Would it be churlish to wonder which design came first?

This Iro version needs a different name, I think... the Pinch Hitter, perhaps? We've got relatives visiting from overseas, and we attended the obligatory baseball game today. The last third or so was knitted at the game, and by the time we left I was wearing it.

On a different note, this now leaves Transitions as the only current Noro yarn I haven't worked with... Hmmm....

Look Ma, I'm Blocking!

Lizard Ridge squares, a new packet of safety pins and the styrofoam from a computer monitor. Blockin' away!

Also, because I do keep a promise

Clearer pics of the Matador. As promised.

Just in time for the weather to improve...

Pimlico is done.

Finishing it was a bit of a chore. Oh, how I complained. There was even some whining and moaning. The ribbing around the edge seemed to go on for ever.... 400+ sts in k3 p3 ribbing around and around and around and around and... you get the idea. (Perfect for car knitting actually.)

But you know, I think it's absolutely worth it. It's a really interesting shape, and is rather fun to wear. I did it with 6 skeins of Lamb's Pride, adjusting the stitch counts downward a bit to match the gauges.

The yarn is much rougher, much more organic if you will, than the yarn the pattern calls for. It changes the look of the finished piece fairly radically from the originally, but I like it very much. It is, as the pattern, promises, clearly inspired by -- and as comfortable as -- a big sloppy cardigan, but it's got genuine style and impact.

If you're facing lots of long car/train/bus/boat/balloon journeys, or a period of house arrest, or a case of chicken pox, and are looking for a good project to keep you entertained, I highly recommend it.

My Socks Have Been On TV!

Amy rocked on Breakfast Television talking about No Sheep For You yesterday, and my socks were featured.

Radical Lace and Subversive Knitting Show

There was less actual knitting than I'd hoped, but lots of variations on the concept of lace.

The most immediately amusing (and knitterly) piece was a traditional Shetland lace shawl, in a lovely off-white wool, with a nice traditional edging. The centre of the shawl was a garter square, with "It sucks" spelt out in yarnovers.

It did rather feel like the show was really two different smaller shows jammed together. There were four or five things I'd describe as subversive knitting, and the rest qualified as lace - radical or otherwise.

The interesting thread with lace is the inherent contradiction in the different materials and methods -- often very substantial, heavy, or hard -- being used to simulate the lightness, delicacy, flexibility of lace. A lacy scuplture constructed of whitewashed found objects, like shelving and fenceposts. Lacy patterns cut into scrap metal. A light fixture created from fibre-optic light filament bobbin lace. Or in a different direction, equally arresting in its inherent contradiction, garments constructed from paper lace doilies.

I was captivated by one particular piece -- a deconstructed carpet reconstructed with staples. From a distance, it just looked like a very worn carpet, but close up you could see that most -- but not all -- of the fabric had been supplemented or outright replaced with staples. Hard to describe, but take my word for it, it's magnificent. My husband was particularly amused by the "tiles" made of chocolate and melted winegums that had lace designs pressed into them.

I chatted to a couple of other visitors, who once again confirmed my theory of the generation gap in handcrafts. A woman the age of my mother looked almost offended when I asked her if she knitted. "Oh, no, no. I'm just here with my daughter. She knits."

Surrounding the Knitting Table in the basement -- because what's an art show without an interactive component? -- was a series of photographs depicting knitterly topics, rendering in knitting. The most startling to me was a WWII-era photograph of women knitting what can only be described as grenade cozies, wrappers for grenades that were destined to be coated with a sticky substance so that they would adhere to their chosen targets.

But as a knitter, I have to say that the single most amazing thing there was the display of Althea Merback's knitted miniatures. Micro-knitted sweaters and gloves worked with silk thread on filed-down medical needles. 1/12th scale. These are teeny tiny garments... featuring fair isle and intarsia. I swear I might have fainted. For those brave souls, you can actually visit Althea's site and order patterns and needles to create your own miniatures. This is the ultimate triumph of the process vs. the product knitter (more on which later).

Off to NYC for a Long Weekend/While I'm Away

"Radical Lace and Subversive Knitting"... yes, that describes my weekends, but it's also the name of an exhibition currently running at New York's Museum of Arts and Design.

I am very excited about this. I shall take my needles.

Yeah, Well, That Didn't Work...

It did, sorta.

I carefully unravelled the picked up sts joining the sleeves to the body of the shrug, and it worked fine. I wasn't happy, however, with my reverse engineered cast-off. And perhaps more to the point, I wasn't happy with the decrease I'd done.

In modifying the pattern, I'd had to turn what had been an increase round to get k2 p2 ribbing to turn into k3 p3 into a decrease round to turn k3 p3 ribbing into k2 p2. I wanted a centred, non-slanting decrease. I made something up, a kind of fudged m1-centered 2 st decrease hybrid monster.

After some consideration, I ripped the two sleeves back and started again. Probably unnecessary, but hey, if I wasn't going to be happy with it, I wouldn't have worn it... The good news is that it's a quick knit, only 10 inches of ribbing in all for each sleeve. What's taking longer is the k3 p3 ribbing on the 400+ sts of the edging. SLOOOOOOOOOW....

The Pimlico Sleeve, Pre-surgery

Wish me luck. I'm going to carefully cut it out, fiddle a cast-off and sew it back in the other way around.

(Why all the trouble? Because of this.)

Clapotis, Redux

I had to start it, just to make sure it was going to be ok for my trip to NYC. Really, I was just checking.

I shall now return to my previously scheduled Pimlico to keep me distracted between now and then.

On Seasonality/The Clap Returns

The weather has turned nice. It likely won't last -- it is only late March, and there's time for one more cold snap before spring has well and truly settled in.

It's interesting how the weather affects attitudes towards knitting. Many times I've heard "oh no, I can't knit now that the weather is so nice." "Knitting is for winter."

It's true that once the weather gets truly hot, to sit with a large piece of wooly fabric on your lap can be uncomfortable. And even handling mohair in July and August is not a good idea. But I find the idea of knitting seasons a bit strange. If I'm working on a sweater in the summer I know it will be ready to wear on the first cool day of fall. Socks and lace are year-round. And scarves? Well, I've taken to knitting narrow little scarves in slubby silk or interesting textured yarns, and they're entirely appropriate for wearing with a jean jacket or light spring coat.

Which brings me to the topic of Clapotis. Recall my Clapotis, in a marvellous heavy wool, silk and mohair mix from Noro. This is definitely wintry. In the past couple of days, I've found myself craving one in a lighter yarn, for spring.

And in one of those confluence of events that make me think it's meant to be, I've fallen in love with the perfect yarn for it....

I was on a multicoloured sock yarn binge last year... which resulted in four really great pairs of multicoloured socks: a puddle-of-gasoline pair, a 1970s appliance pair (both Fleece Artist yarns), a Bee Stripe pair and a cheerful rainbow pair. This is all well and good, but I only wear coloured socks with boots -- and as above, boot season is over.

But then I saw Colinette's Jitterbug in Bright Charcoal. It's been bugging me for weeks. I love it, but I also don't want any more coloured socks right now. So I kept putting it back on the shelf, kept passing it by.

And then it occured to me. Clapotis in Jitterbug!

This shall be my travelling project for my trip to NYC over the Easter weekend.

Real Shetland Scarf

Blocked! I know I've said this before, but it never ceases to amaze.

Real Shetland yarn from real Shetland sheep, using real Shetland lace patterns and techniques.

Pattern will be available very shortly from my friends at Hopeful Farms. They'll be at the Knitter's Frolic in Toronto April 28th -- drop by to say hello to Michele and Gil and fondle their amazing yarns. What I love most about their yarns is that they're all undyed -- these are real sheep colours, and they come in a marvelous variety of shades, from the deepest chocolate brown to soft greys and beiges -- and all sorts of tweedy combinations.

On Graft

I feel about grafting the way I do about cleaning the bathroom. I avoid it when I can, I really don't like doing it... but have to acknowledge that the results are terrific.


(Now, I've never paid someone else to do my grafting, unlike my housework... but it's not a bad idea for a small business.)

Note the Vogue Knitting at hand. I don't really refer to it during the process, but it's a security blanket. I'd be nervous if it wasn't nearby.

This is the final phase of my lace scarf. I was aiming to be as true to Shetland patterns and techniques as possible. I used only Shetland lace patterns, and constructed the scarf in two halves, to be grafted together at the middle so that each end would be the same.

It's drying now, and it's looking pretty good if I do say so myself. Pics to follow.

Meme: 5 Things You Probably Don't Know About Me. The Knitting Version

A few weeks ago, I ignored being tagged for a meme, because I didn't want to stray from my chosen topic of knitting.

Norman got tagged for a meme this week, and although he didn't tag me, the topic got me thinking. Without further ado, then...

5 Things You Probably Don't Know About Me
1. I was taught to knit by my grandmother, the Hilda after whom this blog is named. She was a world-class knitter. This story remains sadly unconfirmed, but I recall her telling me that when she was a girl she used to earn a penny turning the heels of socks knitted by women in her neighbourhood. I believe it -- she was both mathematically and knittily gifted.

2. The first thing I remember knitting was a rectangle of garter stich in blocks of red, white, and blue. This would have been for the Silver Jubilee in 1977. I desperately wanted to make a Union Jack, but was gently discouraged by cooler heads. (You know, I'd probably avoid such an undertaking even now.) I proudly took it to school for a show-and-tell, and was devastated when the teacher remarked that it was an accurate recreation of a French flag.

3. Because Hilda never managed to teach me to crochet properly, I also used to create endless crochet chains. I remember a particularly long purple one. I must have been a serious tripping hazard.

4. My husband doesn't have a single thing knitted by me. Not one. He occasionally wears my Handmaiden Cashmere toque, but repeatedly rejects my offers to knit him his own.

5. My first designs were colourwork variations on existing patterns. I recall a cardigan in blocks of colour, and a circus-themed baby sweater in red and blue: the sleeves were striped and the body was polka dotted. It was pretty terrific, if I do say so myself. And then there's the penguin sweater -- a traditional native Canadian bulky cardigan -- but instead of a duck or a tractor on the back, I charted out a penguin design. These were also my last intarsia designs... you couldn't pay me to do intarsia now.

Mistakes I Have Made/Lace Design Underway

What on earth made me think I could knit lace on my way to work this morning, before the coffee could really kick in? Not the best idea. There was ripping back.

Have finished my secret commission, am now back working on a lace design for my friends at Hopeful Farms. This will be available in April.

It never fails to amaze me what happens to lace when you block it. Blocked sample, and scarf in progress.

See? Is that not cool?

Trico-Dico

I'm taking a refresher course in French, through my employer.

My classes are Fridays, so invariably the instructor asks what my plans are for the weekend. "Tricot" was about all I knew... and she doesn't knit so we were both struggling for the vocabulary.

Thanks to V. who is in my Thursday class, I have found the answer... Tricotin, a French language knitting site. The "Trico-Dico" is an astonishingly complete list of knitting terms in French and English.

Merci bien, V.!

On Deadline(s)

You're not seeing much of my knitting here at the moment. Trust me, I am knitting. Like a fiend. I'm working on a design commission which shall remain secret for now.

The deadline is tight, there is a lot of knitting to be done between now and March 15th. I normally knit a lot -- on my commute, in the car (when hubby is driving, naturally), at home in front of the TV. I usually get a couple of hours of knitting done in an evening, most evenings. And on the weekends during the day, I knit for an hour or two. I knit during social events, too.

This design commission has caused me to radically increase my knitting hours... I've basically been on house arrest during the weekends, setting my alarm in the morning, knitting all day and all evening.

Now, I will accept that a knitting deadline is different from a writing deadline. You can't devour an entire season's box set of Criminal Minds while writing. You can't write while out with friends for drinks. You can't hold a meaningful phone conversation while writing. But knitting is still work. Work that requires you to sit still, in the same place for long periods of time.

And working I am. Oh yes. Knitting, knitting, knitting, knitting.

I can't wait for March 15th to arrive.

But here's the thing... it's not that I want the work to be over... quite the opposite. I can't wait to share my work with the lovely people who commissioned it. And I can't wait to move on to my next commission. I've already got two more "work" projects lined up for after the 15th, and I'm practically salivating to get onto them.

I guess this really is what they mean when they say that you should do what you love, huh?

Strange Places to Find a Cable Needle

Ok, knitters... 'fess up... I bet you've all misplaced a tool and found it later in an odd place, no?

Me, I'm always losing stitch markers, and those typically show up on the floor, down the sides of the sofa, occasionally stuck to my socks.

And last week I lost my plastic darning needle ... but found it again last night tucked into my copy of Volume 2 of Barbara Walker. It's exactly the same shade of red; I was using it as a bookmark.

But this takes the cake. Hubby came home last night, and I put down my knitting to greet him (working on a super secret project right now, all I'll say is that it requires a cable needle). When I went to restart, I couldn't find my cable needle. Gone. Just gone. I looked on the sofa and in the cushions and on the floor and under the coffee table and in my shirt.

(A brief digression: I've been known to hook a u-shaped cable needle in the neckline of my shirt -- very handy on a plane, for example. This is all well and good, but does earn you strange looks from the customs agents at Heathrow if you forget to take it out.)

As I was getting ready for bed a bit later, hubby remarked that there was something odd dangling from the back of my underwear... and there was the cable needle. I suspect I was trying to put it in my jeans pocket, but missed.

The Matador Variation

Quick 'n' easy 'n' enormously gratifying.... the Matador bolero from last fall's Interweave Knitscene mag.

Not content to leave well enough alone, I used Needful Van Dyck rather than the recommended yarn, and I messed with the edging...

The original pattern calls for garter edging for the fronts. Frankly, I felt like it was fighting with the eyelet detail on the raglan when I did it up in the plainer yarn. Garter to me is a rougher, more organic stitch, and eyelets require something a bit finer. Well, ok "finer" is relative here, we're still talking about a fairly "rough" yarn (in a good way), very chunky, and a seriously casual design.

I used a 4 stitch k1 p1 ribbing for the front edging, and it works tremendously well in this context. It doesn't look ribbed, as it pulls in -- which also means that it lies flat rather than curling. Very happy with how it turned out.

And no buttonhole, I just jam the button through a hole in the knitting.

Plus plain black provides a nice sartorial contrast to all the Noro I've been working with. Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't wear more than one colour at the same time -- with the exception of Noro products -- so a black bolero will look great over coloured tshirts in the spring. (You know, those days when I want to to be warmer than it actually is!)

(Squint hard at the picture and you should be able to make it out. I'll take a picture with a different tshirt in the near future.)

New Teaching Schedule

Check out the Lettuce Knit website for my upcoming teaching schedule.

I'm adding a couple of new classes to my repetoire: Cables 101 and Entrelac 101.

Cables 101 is a 2 hour boot camp to let beginner knitters in on the dirtiest knitting secret in the world: cables are easy!

Entrelac 101 untangles the mysteries of this marvellous technique -- previously considered to be the province of the knitting eccentric -- put to excellent use with Noro's Silk Garden -- as below. After 2 2-hour sessions, you'll have a fabulous scarf, and a killer new skill to be proud of.

It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature!

This is a commercial cardigan I bought recently (gasp!). It was in a clearance sale at an absurdly low price.


It's not colours I normally wear, and I'm not convinced I will ever wear it, but I had to bring it home and play with it.

I love love love what they've done with the Fair Isle. This is more than just not weaving in your ends, this is a deliberate and wanton display of the wrong side of the work.

Clever! How can I use this in my own designs? Hmmm....

Holy Sheep!

I received my contributor copy of No Sheep For You this week! I'm in it! Those are my sock designs! I'm SO excited, can you tell?

I spent a good few hours with the book this week, while hiding from the snow. The patterns are terrific, and there's a lot to be learnt from it about different types of yarns, their properties and applications.

Even if you're a dyed-in-the-wool woolhead (to coin a phrase), there's plenty to enjoy and learn.

And that's my name, in the table of contents, in very esteemed company.

Thanks Amy!

[thanks to Interweave for the pic from the book - photography (c) Interweave Press LLC]

A thought...

These are all my LR leftovers... is it just me, or is this screaming Entrelac?

Methadone for the Lizard Ridge Addict

Because a girl can't be expected to go entirely cold turkey on Noro....

I'm working on an entrelac scarf in Silk Garden. This is a design for a class I'll be teaching this spring. Stay tuned for details.

I'm using the same needles as LR, it's a similar technique, all short rows and turning, and it's Silk Garden which is even nicer to work with than Kureyon. So I'm doing ok.

On a different note, I discovered last night that it's impossible to knit lace and watch coverage of the Sporting Group in the Westminster Dog Show. Yes, it's true, we gloried in all the High Def production values of a televised dog show. All that cooing and oogling over the big adorable dogs with their giant paws make it impossible to concentrate on placement of yarn overs.

Is This It?

Number 24. Done. Some streetcar and car time in the last few days and now it's over.


I fear I might start going through withdrawal.

Not going to start the assembly process just yet, though. I've got a lace design brewing...

A few thoughts as I near the end of Lizard Ridge

(Halfway through the last square.)

I have seen two complete Lizard Ridges in person now... Jen's and Stephannie's. I didn't get a chance to spend significant time with Jen's, but was able to have a good ooh and aah over Steph's this week. She's finished it beautifully.

We discussed a few approaches to finishing. The thought of all that seaming and weaving in of ends is giving me hives... I worked it out today... 38 seams of about 30 cm each. That's 11 metres (or about 38 feet) of seaming.

Mum's suggested crocheting the pieces together, which would be infinitely quicker, but Steph did warn that it's a bit lumpy on the wrong side. She ended up sewing it together. She also used a knitted garter edge rather than crochet, and it's very effective. Plus I'm so much better at garter than crochet.

And on the issue of the bazillion ends, Mum suggested I simply not worry about it, and line the blanket instead. Something with a bit of texture, perhaps raw silk? Because 24 balls of Kureyon haven't made this project expensive enough, I should also buy several metres of silk.

Still... wow... just imagine how amazing that would be.

Number 23

Oh dear. Whatever will I do?

Oh yeah, there's all the sewing together and the edging...


Actually, they're all going to get put aside because I have a really great lace design underway. Pics soon!

Hey Denny! Are You Proud of Me?

Ends all woven in. My god, it's dull work.


The pattern will be available at The Naked Sheep as of Friday.

Khroma Vest - The Pros and Cons of Colour Work

I like it!

It's a bit big on me, by design. It's a shop sample, and it will fit the mannequin a bit better -- and also possibly Lorena who, by virtue of owning the shop, gets to wear the samples. It's always a big compliment when she wears something I've done.

This, however, is the downside of colour work...


The ends.... oh, the ends....

Weavin' away.

Which Makes This One Number 22

I had significantly more streetcar time this weekend than anticipated. Which means that another full square is done.


Two left!

Erin left a clever suggestion to deal with the extra ball.

(I figured it out, BTW. I inherited a ball leftover from Mum's cardi, so that upped the total balls available to 25. I'd been counting the complete squares by looking at how many unknit balls were left in the bag. Hence off by one.)

She suggested I use the extra one to create a pocket on the wrong side of the blanket, in which I can store remotes or snacks. Hmmm...

I Can't Count

Having a degree in mathematics doesn't mean I can count.

I dug out all my squares yesterday to show off to some of the knitters in my life, and it turns out that I've actually got 20 done.

This, it seems, is actually number 21.


And now I have four balls of yarn left and only three squares left to knit.

This is awful for two reasons. Really, how on earth am I to choose which colourway to abandon? And this means that I'm closer to the end than I feared.

I will miss this pattern.

Ok, so I don't normally do this kind of thing, but...

I actually found the questions a little thought provoking. So there. Thanks to MMJ for the link.


You appear to be a Knitting Goddess. You are constantly giving and are unconcerned with reward, you simply want others to love knitting as much as you do. If someone wants to knit miles of novelty yarns, you are there for them. If someone wants to learn short row shaping, you can help. There are no taboos in knitting, only opportunities to grow. Everyone should have friend like you around if they want to learn to knit, and there's a good chance that your passion has rubbed off on a few others.http://marniemaclean.com
Take this quiz!

Oh dear.

So remember that gripe I had about the sleeve instructions for the Pimlico?

About how it wasn't clear if the k3p3 ribbing went at the top or the bottom of the sleeve? And that how I was going to modify the pattern so that I was picking up the stitches from the body and knitting down? So that I'd be stuck if I got it wrong?

Well, I got it wrong. And I'm stuck.

I dug out the book and looked at the picture. And yeah, I'm wrong. The k3p3 should be at the bottom of the sleeve, so that there's a nice elegant flare at the wrist.

Argh.

So, what to do? Pull the sleeves out (both of them) and work 'em again? Or cut them out and fudge a sewn cast-off on the cut edge of the k3p3 and sew them back onto the body the other way around? Or leave it as a unique variant of the pattern?

Hmmm...

Number 19

This is what happens when I'm stuck at home with a cold. Very goth, this one. The next one is all rainbow sherbert, as a contrast.


Oh yes, quince marmalade is tremendously good, even on slightly stale challah.

That Double Espresso I Ordered

Thanks T.!

Remember that yarn-for-coffee trade I proposed a while back? I picked up my package from the Post Office yesterday.

Two different coffees and a little something sweet to go with it... some of the original marmelade, made from quinces. That challah (which is not green, despite the picture) seems like the ideal delivery mechanism.

Number 18...

Three quarters done.

Numbers 15, 16, 17

Four flights in 4 days provides a fair bit of time for Lizarding.

And number 18 is halfway done.

The pile of balls-yet-to-be-Lizarded is getting distressingly small. One of the great things about this project has been looking at the big heap of yarn, and carefully selecting the next colourway to work -- depending on mood, on the light in the room, on the crankiness of the cat.

The selection is dwindling...

Knitters on a Plane

Over the years, I've become very accustomed to being the only knitter on a plane.

(As a side note, the only downside to knitting rather than reading or working on a plane is that people think you're available for conversation. I need a little badge or sign that says "No, I don't want to talk to you.")

As usual, on the way out, I had a nice chat with a lovely older woman who recognized what I was doing, and wanted to chat. Again she confirmed my little sociological theory: her mother was a serious knitter, who produced many practical items of clothing for her family over the years. And now the daughter won't pick up a pair of needles if her life depends on it. Your mother's drudgery can never become an activity of pleasure.

On the way back, however, I was pleased to see two women, (upper 20-something, I would estimate), knitting away. Both seemed to be beginners, but only one was working some kind of horrible novelty yarn on big needles. The other was a good distance into a scarf in a nice grey wool.

Me, I was Lizarding like a fiend. Pics shortly.

Fair Isle Vest - The Front

I'm pretty pleased with it.

Back coming along well, too. I decided (with Lorena's input) to do the back fully patterned as well. It will make a beautiful and tempting shop sample, if not precisely an affordable project if worked entirely in Khroma.

Sheepy Friends

Check out the blog of my friends Michele and Gil of Hopeful Farms. They raise Shetlands for wool (lovely, lovely wool), and have some seriously adorable pictures of their working dogs.

I do have a soft spot for a good puppy picture...

Adorable dogs and wonderful wool. What more could a girl want?

I've raved about their wools before, and am looking forward to seeing what marvels they get this year.

Pimlico - Another Gripe About the Pattern

So the big main square is done... which is nice, because it was getting pretty tedious.

Now onto the next bit. You're supposed to do the sleeves separately and then sew them in. Sewing? Bah! Unnecessary! Why not just pick up the stitches around the armhole and work the sleeve in place? Easy! Less sewing!

The sleeve pattern goes like this:
Cast on xx sts.
Join and work k2 p2 in the round for a ways.
Then increase all around and work k3 p3 for a bit.
Cast off.

Then later on, it says "Sew Sleeves into armholes."

So as I'm contemplating my pattern alteration, it hits me: it doesn't actually indicate which is the top of the sleeve -- which bit you're suppose to sew to the body.

Yeah, I know, logic says that the wider section -- that is, after the increases -- goes at the top. But this design is constructed unusually... the sleeves are only from the elbow down to the wrist, which doesn't really require much shaping. And then the edging of the sweater is deliberately flared -- the ribbing starts with k2 p2 and then is increased to k3 p3 to flare out.

Seeds of doubt are sewn.

So here's the thing. There are pics of the design in the book. But I'm one of those sorts that travels with my knitting, and carries a photocopy of the actual pattern instructions -- the book (I own) sits safely at home, protected from the dangers of flying coffee.

I had to resort to surfing the web looking for other people's pictures of the damn thing, trying to figure out if I'm right thinking that the k3 p3 ribbing goes at the top of the sleeve....

It's a minor issue, in the grand scheme of things, but a good example of a little thing that can cause a big problem.



(Least interesting and helpful photo ever.)

Another One

This one went really fast... 14 done.

Am now starting to actively wonder about what to do with all the bits and pieces of the ends. Perhaps a smaller blankie wrappy sort of thing?

The full majesty of the heap:


(Although this is outdated, as that's number 12 on the needle there.)

Number 13!

Between all the car rides over the Christmas break, I managed to get another full square done. And I'm about a third of the way into Number 14.

And a new, slightly longer commute starting Monday will ensure excellent progress over the next few weeks...

Fair Isle for the Easily Intimidated

Working on a vest using Khroma. This is seriously delicious yarn, half merino, half baby Alpaca. The colours are tremendous -- a rainbow of tweedy delights.

I wanted to do a Fair Isle design, but I had two constraints to worry about: that the yarn isn't cheap, and therefore I wanted to use it wisely, and that my gauge in stranded Fair Isle is nowhere near the gauge I achieve working with a single yarn.

What resulted, after 3 or 4 hours of doodling with pencil crayons and graph paper is this design... it uses a minimum of extra yarn, the pattern is easy easy easy to remember and work, and is regular enough and widely enough spaced that my gauge isn't going to go bonkers.


It will have a v-neck. What the back will look like and how I handle the edgings will depend on how much yarn I have left in the extra colours. I want to use as much of the colours up as possible, but I know that I don't have enough to do the back fully coloured. So... hmm... maybe just plain blue with only the small contrast boxes? Maybe the armhole edgings in one colour and the neck edging in another?

Decisions, decisions.... enjoying the process very much.

The pattern will be available at The Naked Sheep later this month.