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.!