Alimum Knits

Bathrobe

2007-02-22T12:54:00.000-06:00

About a week ago, Julian asked me for a bathrobe.

Julian hates to wear clothes and I think it finally occurred to him that a bathrobe was not technically clothing and would help keep him warm. Or, maybe, he wanted to be like me. Just before Christmas, I found a red cashmere bathrobe at the Salvation Army. It is pretty fabulous and I wear it every single morning. Sometimes, I wear it even after I have showered and dressed.

So, at first, I had planned to just make him a robe out of some flannel. Then, on Friday, I ran across Suss Cousins book, Home Knits, and saw her pattern for a knit bathrobe. I remembered I had this yarn in my stash (the sweater from which this yarn came was dumpster dived and I ripped it up). I showed the yarn to Julian and asked if he would like a bathrobe made out of it. He said yes.

I started knitting Saturday.

Sunday morning, he saw my bathrobe at the foot of our bed and asked, "Mommy, is that the bathrobe you made for me?" I had to tell him that, no, that was my robe, his was orange and I was still making it.

On Monday, he asked me where his bathrobe was. I told him I still had to sew the pieces together.

On Tuesday, he asked if he could put on his new robe. I told him it wasn't ready (I still had to do some blocking and sewing.)

On Wednesday morning, he didn't ask about the robe and refused to try it on when I showed it to him.

So, the lesson to be learned here is that while one must ask a toddler if he likes the yarn before the process begins (because you really don't want to go to the effort of knitting up a piece only to find out the child hates it after all that work) one must either be more secretive about the project and/or learn to knit faster.

Julian eventually agreed to try it on and even model it for me.

Of course, I made changes in the pattern. I didn't use the yarn she recommended, didn't have the right gauge, and knit it more by the measurements than by the pattern. I made changes to the collar. I grafted the shoulder seams instead of sewing them (something I plan to do all the time now--achieving an almost invisible seam and using less yarn? Why don't people recommend this all the time? Would it be wrong to tear up sweaters I made a decade ago in order to graft the shoulder seams?--I tried to take pictures, but they just look like plain stockinette stitch, not like seams at all!) I ran out of yarn and didn't do the crocheting at the hem.

I made it on the large size (using the measurements for the size 4, although Julian would probably have found the size 2 a bit big, as it turns out) because I am hoping Julian can wear it next winter and I really hope we are done with the unspeakably cold weather.

This pattern makes me so excited, I think I may have to knit a few more of these for the other toddlers I know. Maybe.

Mohair Scarf Extravaganza

2007-02-04T13:54:00.000-06:00

Years ago, before even yoga was the new yoga, 1995 to be exact, I worked down the street from a yarn store (which I believe was called Fiber Works). They had a basket of yarn leftover from other projects and you could fill a bag with the yarn scraps for only $8. even back then, that was a deal. So, one day, I noticed a lot of mohair in the basket. I left with three bags full of yarn (yes sir, yes sir)--one of the bags contained random balls of black yarn (photos of what I have accomplished with that will one day appear here) and two bags of mohair.

From that mohair haul I made a sweater (photo of which I will someday post) and then ignored the mohair for years. Then, a couple of years ago, I was inspired to make a mohair scarf and hat, which I did, but it was all wrong. I ended up giving most of the yarn I had left (yes, I had mohair left) to Kristen, who probably has lost it beneath her stash which ate Tokyo. I shoved the scarf and hat in my bag of finished objects which have no destination.

So, a couple of months ago, I was walking by a store and saw a yellow mohair scarf in the window. It wasn't anything special, really, just a yellow mohair scarf. Why this scarf inspired my long slumbering knitting urge, I cannot say. It is possible I had passed that scarf a number of times and not noticed it. It is possible I would have not noticed it if I had passed it minutes later. But I passed it when I did and saw the scarf and something about it made me say, "I have a ball of lime green mohair in my stash."

I knitted up the green mohair and then I found the hat and scarf set that I had made years ago and ripped it up so I could use the green mohair trapped within their sad useless loops.

Here is the pattern (it is super easy):

I did a provisional cast on (as described by Barbara Walker in her book Knitting From the Top). 18 stitches. On #11 needles.

Row 1: K1, P1
Row 2 and all other rows: K the K stitches and P the P stitches.

When you run out of one color (A), knit two rows of the next color (B) and two rows of the third color (C) and bind off loosely (here is the method I used: purl the first two stitches together, then loosen that stitch up and place it back onto the left needle. Do the same thing again...purl the loosened stitch, now the first stitch on the left needle, together with the second stitch. Loosen it up and slip it back over to the left needle. Continue purling 2 together and slipping the loosened stitch back to the left all the way across. Pull the end through the last stitch left).

Remove and knit with the second color (B) until you run out of that yarn and then knit the third color (C) until you have just enough left for binding off.

Bind off loosely.

Here is what the end looks like

Fred thought it looked so cool, he said he wanted one (well, he has said he wanted a mohair scarf for years, ever since I made my brother, Jeff, a ginormous striped mohair scarf--think Doctor Who but in mohair and jewel tones. Jeff's scarf is very cool. One of these days, I'll actually get a picture of him and the scarf and you will see what I'm talking about). I had about a skein of navy blue mohair and decided to used that as the base, and then I just went to the leftover yarn from the now torn up scarf/hat.

Same pattern as the other one except that Fred wanted his a bit wider, so his scarf is 28 stitches across. I think Fred's is by far the coolest as far as the color combination. I prefer Fred's scarf to my own, truth be told.

So then, I had a little bit of mohair left and Julian (with much prompting from Fred) began asking me for a scarf.

His is only 14 stitches across on #10 1/2 needles.

I am very pleased by how they turned out and I managed to reduce my yarn stash.

Now, if only I could find a use for all the black mohair...

Poo-Goo

2007-01-23T12:45:00.000-06:00

Not a knitting post, but on the continuum of handcrafted artwork.

This was a Christmas gift for Julian from Rebecca, our former neighbor. She brought it along when we had a playdate with Julian and her kids, Nathanial and Lily. Isn't it super cool? It's a Poo-Goo. She used to sell these in the very cool bookstores and toystores in town (and I will bet many of the city's hipper than thou scenesters vowed that when they had children, these would be the only stuffed toys they would let their children play with), but stopped because, well, motherhood is time consuming and she found that she was spending more money/time making these than she was making selling these. I am lucky to have one and feel honored that she gave us this gift.

Julian's Scarf

2007-01-17T21:18:00.000-06:00

This was the tird and final scarf I made for the holidays, so, of course, I post it's photo first.

It is made with mohair scraps.

I will post its story, along with the greater story of the role of the mohair scarf in my knitting life, when I get around to posting pictures of the other, larger mohair scarves I have made.

For now, you will have to make do with this one lonely picture (because I apparently failed to upload the entire contents of the flash car to this computer and I am too cranky to do so now).

Update

2007-01-15T17:18:00.000-06:00

I knit scarves for the whole family this past christmas.

I am furiously finishing up some UFOs from the past year.

I am going through my stash and will be giving away yarn in the next few weeks.

I will be posting photos of the scarves, the soon to be finished objects, and the yarn in a few days.

That is all.

The Desire Has Returned

2006-11-13T21:43:00.000-06:00

It always happens this way. As soon as you are completely immersed in one creative endeavor which has a dealine, suddenly all the creative endeavors decide to come out of hiding. So I am doing nanowrimo and I find myself thinking up all these items I want to knit and wear right this instant.

So I am trying to be good and stay away from the needles.

Go read Rebecca's story about how she inadvertently turned a bunch of kids onto knitting, but at Sheakespeare's expense.

Hopefully, all my knitting dreams will still be with me after I have written 50,000 words.

My Stash of Manos del Uruguay

2006-08-15T23:01:00.000-05:00

Look, it's a rainbow!

I had thought I would make Julian a sweater, but now, I don't know. I probably have too much for a toddler sweater, but not enough for a substantially larger project. Maybe I'll just make some hats for my neighbor's kids and trade them for a few of the incredibly cool stuffed toys she makes.

Any suggestions?

Out Of Commission

2006-08-13T11:46:00.000-05:00

I would probably have started another project this week and gone to Stitches this weekend if I hadn't dislocated my elbow last Sunday. Lucky for me, it wasn't a bad dislocation and I am almost completely healed. This doesn't really address the total sense of dislocation I am feeling in my life, but that will be cleared up soon as well (I hope) and really isn't a great excuse not to try to start another project. I'm thinking a fun fur bikini or maybe a bright purple chenille scarf--something super frivolous and mindless to get my fingers moving.

I know, I promised pictures of Olivia with the blanket and still haven't take any. In the mean time, I leave you with photos sent by Tracy of someone else's child (i.e. not one of her girls and not my son) in an item she made.

My Motivation To Knit Is Currently Visiting Friends In The Hamptons

2006-08-03T10:52:00.000-05:00

Or possibly, the South of France.

It didn't leave a note telling me of its whereabouts or how long it planned to be away.

All I know is that it is August and ridiculously hot (even though we have had thunder storms for the last twelve hours which promise to reduce the temperature to less life threatening numbers) and the idea of touching anything is so unappealing. Also, I have no project to knit and no brain to design one (and don't remind me of the unfinished socks, the unfinished fingerless gloves, the unfinished miniskirt, or the unfinished cardigan for Julian--those objects do not count and I refuse to even look at them right now). About a week ago, I went into my favorite lingerie store and told them about the fun fur bikinis and they really want to see them. You would think this would motivate me to whip up a Fun Fur bikini, wouldn't you? Alas, no. The last time I pulled out the Fun Fur (about two months ago) Julian started to cry and said "Mommy, no." Fred and I have no idea why the Fun Fur should cause him so much distress, but he stopped crying when I put it away and resumed knitting with unfurry yarn, so we know it is the Fun Fur's fault. Given the heat, the humidity, the risk of causing my baby to cry and my motivation's extended vacation from my brain, I think the best thing to do is to just ignore the gigantic stash of yarn lurking under my bed and all vague promises made to a sexy underwear shop.

Amanda asked for pictures of Olivia in the blanket. Melanie, her mom, promised to take some photos, but that was before we got the three digit temperatures. For what it is worth, Abigail told me that the blanket I made is Olivia's favorite (and yes, I am willing to believe the compliments of five year olds, even when I know they are just making conversation and get my attention). Have no fear, however, as that baby and the blanket (and her mom and big sister) are moving to Toronto in a couple of weeks and I am sure we will start getting lots of photos of a very cold baby wrapped in a fluffy pink blanket shortly thereafter.

It's a shame that I have no knitting mojo right now as I am watching lots of television.

Hopefully, it will have learned something while hanging out with all its chi-chi friends and I will be whipping out some highly fashionable duds come September.

Olivia's Blanket

2006-07-21T12:32:00.000-05:00

A lacy soft blanket for my cousin's new baby.

I made it extra long because I made her older sister's blanket extra long. Abigail said to me the other day, "Alison, your blanket is still too big for me." It's nice to think I am making them things they can grow into, although I worry that Abigail may grow into a healthy dislike of sea green before she is "big enough" for the blanket. Oh well, I made that blanket over five years ago and Abigail has so many blankets to choose from, I can't be all that surprised if it gets edged out by other, fuzzier items. However, I have learned a lot since making that blanket and was committed to making a fuzzy blanket for Olivia. I will have pictures of Olivia with her blanket in a couple of days.

Materials: #10 circular needle (can use straight needles as well, I used circular so I could stretch it out as I was knitting.)
Size J crochet hook
1 skein Bernat Baby Boucle and 1 skein Bernat Soft Boucle (I had a skein of the Soft Boucle from years ago lying around and when I found I needed more, I could only find the right color in the Baby Boucle. It seems identical except the Baby Boucle is sold in 4 oz. skeins while the Soft Boucle is sold in 5 oz. skeins.)
A small amount of Lion Brand Homespun Yarn in Cream was used to bind off.

Using a provisional cast on method of your choosing (I use the one described by Barbara Walker in Knitting from the Top) cast on 59 stitches.

Work rows 1-4 in seed stitch (*K1, P1* repeat, end with K1)

Begin Lace Pattern (The first and last five stitches of every row are to be worked in seed stitch. The following lace pattern is to be used for the middle 49 stitches.)
Row 1: *K1, yo, Sl 1, K1, psso, K1, K2 tog, yo* repeat, K1
Row 2 and all even rows: P
Row 3: *K2, yo, K3, yo, K1* repeat
Row 5: K2 tog *yo, Sl 1, K1, psso, K1, K2 tog, yo, Sl1, K2 tog, psso* repeat, on the last pattern repeat, end with a Sl 1, K1 (as opposed to the K2 tog), psso
Row 7: *K1, K2 tog, yo, K1, yo, Sl 1, K1, psso* repeat
Row 9: *K2, yo, K3, yo, K1* repeat
Row 11: *K1, K2 tog, yo, Sl1, K2 tog, psso, yo, sl 1, K1, psso* repeat, K1

Repeat twelve rows until blanket is desired length (in my case, that was aroun 4 feet, unblocked)

Work four rows in seed stitch.

Pick up live stitches from waste thread at beginning of work. Carefully unravel the original cast on row of stitches.

Crochet bind off live stitches on both ends: Single crochet into live stitch, *ch. 2, sc next live stitch* repeat until all live stitches have been crocheted.

Weave in the yarn tails.

Block.

Not Knitting Related

2006-07-11T12:00:00.000-05:00

But way cool nevertheless.

What this blog looks like as a graph. I think this website will be my new best friend.

It appeals to my desire for order and my geeky urges to convert one thing into another. Why can't a website be a graph? Why can't I convert my name into a song using a not-terribly-complex system of transferring the alphabet to musical notes? Why can't I knit a DNA model and hang it from my ceiling?

If you want to see what my real life blog or the black dress blog looks like, I have posted their photos as well.

Tomorrow (or possibly the next day): A pattern and photos of a finished object.

Say Something

2006-07-08T18:29:00.000-05:00

“Rules: Please leave a one-word comment that you think best describes me — it can only be one word long. Then copy and paste this into your blog so that I may leave a word about you.”

I am also posting this on my other blog, in case you find yourself overwhelmed with words to describe me.

From The Kitchener Bitch and Wonkyknit

Knit A Baby Hat, Encourage Breastfeeding

2006-06-30T13:33:00.000-05:00

As many of you know, I used to knit and design baby hats. Many were sold or given away and I no longer have the inventory I once did. I do have the pictures, however.

A lot of you also know that I am nursing Julian, who is now almost 20 months old. Obviously, he isn't attached to my breast as he was when he was an infant. In fact, there are days when he hardly nurses at all.

So, you can imagine my joy when I read the most recent entry on the Yarn Harlot's blog. In a nutshell (and I have no idea why I am summarizing this as I assume you would all be avid Harlot readers. What are you doing reading my blog if you aren't reading hers?), a friend of hers is knitting baby hats as gifts for low income families (who are on WIC) to encourage them to consider breastfeeding. I can't really say anything more articulately than she has with regards to how the culture in which we live is not as supportive as it should be. However, some of the people who commented to her blog bemoaned the fact that WIC gives out free formula. Personally, I do not consider this to be a disconnect on the part of the WIC program. Ideally, women should breastfeed, but if they cannot (or choose not to) they should be feeding their babies formula. Formula is expensive, more expensive than cows' milk, and the last thing anyone wants is for women to decide that formula is too expensive for their baby. But breastmilk is free (if you don't count the calories mom eats to make the BM--I am not counting the nursing bras, pads, pumps, etc and those are accessories which can aid the breastfeeding experience but are not essential to the process) and I do feel that, on paper at least, the WIC program is doing what it can to promote breastfeeding.

Anyway, I am planning to make a few hats and encourage everyone to do the same. But before that, I have to make a few things for the new baby in our family. Olivia Pauline was born on the afternoon of June 27. And while I am at it, I probably should make a few items for her big sister, Abigail, as well.

Pumpkin

2006-06-26T12:46:00.000-05:00

I can't seem to bring myself to knit anything, but this doesn't mean I can't add to my stash.

I had intended to make a baby blanket from this yarn, but now that I see it frogged and balled, I think something Halloween like would be more appropriate.

Sock It To Me

2006-06-25T22:32:00.000-05:00

So we got a new digital camera (or rather, a used, but new to us digital camera) and I can post pictures again.

The Frankenstein Sock

This is one of the first socks I ever made. It is one of a pair I made for Fred years ago from Shepherd-Cynthia Helene Aran in black. The socks turned out great (I used a standard top-down pattern) and Fred wore them a few times. But then, Fred stuck the socks in the dryer and inadvertently felted them. Argh! Which meant they fit me, so all was not quite lost (though Fred is now not allowed to do laundry, which may have been his evil plan all along--lose a pair of socks, but gain a laundry-free life.) The problem was taht every time I pulled the socks on, I felt claustrophobic. The heavy, felted wool was inelastic and I would start having fears that the socks would never come off my feet. So I cut them down to ankle length and sewed the extra wool bits under the ball and heel, so they are now extra cushiony slippers.

Another pair of socks I made were the Gwynedd Walking Socks from Knitters Magazine's Fall 1995 issue. I used two shade of Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride Superwash Worsted in colors which I am pretty sure have been discontinued (at least the purple doesn't look like it is still manufactured.) I really like the cable pattern and they are comfortable to wear around the house, but far too thick to actually wear with shoes. A moth appears to have gotten to one of them, so I may be frogging these in the future.

These are the most recent socks I completed for Fred. I used the gray merino which has made appearances in previous projects (and I still have more. How many balls of this did I buy?) I used a standard 64 stitch top down pattern on #4 needles, but I did a provisional cast on and went back with #2 needles and used a little of Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride in Onyx to bind off the top.

Which brings me to these unfinished socks. They are toe up socks. I used the magic cast on and then proceeded from there. I just can't decide what to do with them. Should I finish them for myself, frog them, or finish them for Fred? I just can't decide how I feel and this has resulted in me not knitting anything at all for the past week. They are just squatting there, making it impossible for me to move forward. They aren't bad socks. I'm glad I made them as I learned a lot, but beyond character building, I am not so sure these socks have much going for them. I mean, yes, they are nice and black, perfect for me. I just feel less than enthused.

Maybe it is time for me to make something other than socks. But what? The reason I have been making socks and hats, as of late, is that I am just not feeling motivated to embark on a larger project. Yes, I need to make a baby blanket for Melanie's baby (who is being born, one way or another, this Tuesday) but it is summer, the baby won't be really needing a wool blanket until, at least, September. I have a whole list of people who would like me to make them sweaters, but they can wait. Every time I think I am on the verge of a new project (making gauge swatches and having designed the pattern and everything) something happens (like, say, realizing I may not have enough yarn or that I may not have the recipient's measurements) which makes me put it aside and when I come back to it, my inspiration and interest has fled. It would appear my inability to complete a large scale project has seeped over from my writing into my knitting. Damn.

I Get It! I Finally Get It!

2006-06-13T17:53:00.000-05:00

For years, I have been living in some sort of knitting fog. Or perhaps, I was living in a form of delusional, ignorant bliss.

This bliss centered around a lack of difficulty and a lack of boredom with regards to certain knitting techniques that other knitters seemed to find either difficult or boring.

The Yarn Harlot refers to the ennui which sets in when knitting the second sock. I always found knitting the second sock to be no less dull than knitting the second mitten. In fact, it always seems like the second sock gets finished before I even realize it and looks better than the first, regardless of the circumstances surrounding the knitting of either sock. Of course, I also have a single-mindedness which leads me to knit one (or possibly two, maybe three, but surely no more than four) project at a time. So my tendency towards project monogamy serves as a powerful motivator to get the second sock finished.

A few weeks ago, I was buying sock yarn and the girl selling the yarn asked if I had ever knit socks before. When I replied that I had, she said something long the lines of, "ugh, turning the heel and everything?" I probably looked at her as if she was crazy--was she trying to dissuade me from purchasing her yarn? Isn't she supposed to be encouraging me to buy more yarn by telling me how easy projects are? I have heard how hard and irritating this heel turning thing is and I never quite understood what the big deal was exactly. People, it's knitting, not rocket science.

But now I realize that my sock indifference was merely a result of knitting top-down socks. Of the socks I had made over the years, not a one was a toe-up pattern. Until now. I have completed one lovely sock using a toe up pattern. I have turned the heel and found it to be, well, not hard, but clearly this is the horrid heel turning to which the various knitters referred. It wasn't difficult to knit short rows, but it made me very tired and very bored and it made it very difficult to watch the World Cup while knitting.

So now I have one sock completed and I have no interest in beginning another.

None.

I don't really need socks, do I?

It's summer, who wears socks in the summer?

And since I still am without a digital camera, I can't show off my work to you all, so I have even less motivation to continue.

The funny thing is, I had all these plans to knit a bunch of socks this month.

So, on to other projects.

I have all of this lovely black Henry's Attic Prime Alpaca for which I can never find a project worthy of it. I was also thinking that I should knit a lace dress. Maybe a modification of this shawl (you know, starting a few rounds out from the center, using a provisional cast on, and then designing some sort of lacy tank to knit up from the live stitches.)

Of course, when I start doing the math (if the gauge is x and the inches are y, how many do I cast on?), I start to wonder if making that second sock is such a trial after all.

And as we all know, the last thing I need is another black dress.

Free Vintage Patterns on the Internet

2006-06-04T20:55:00.000-05:00

The Kitchener Bitch is posting free vintage knitting patterns on her blog. Go to her site and see for yourself. In addition to being a fabulous knitter, she has a vast knowledge of all things vintage from her days as a dealer of vintage clothes. (She still has some snazzy duds in her basement and if you ask her nicely, she may let you go shopping down there.)

This got me to thinking about vintage knitting patterns and how they never seem to work out as I hope. I have a whole box full of vintage patterns and I have tried a few out, but they always end up looking too modern. I can match the gauge and fiber content of the original yarn, but I can't replicate that "folded in a hope chest for the last fifty years" look that all my real vintage sweaters seem to have. Maybe I expect too much. Or maybe the problem is I am viewing the items in color (as opposed to faded sepiatones.) I can't find the site from which I printed a bulk of patterns. I stumbled upon it awhile back, during the internet's lower school years, and haven't visited the website this century, so it is entirely possible the website has ceased to exist or has changed beyond recognition. So I cannot show you a side by side comparison of pictures of my finished objects and pictures of how the objects were supposed to look. Of course, all this talk of vintage knitting is causing me to wonder if any of my finished objects live up to my expectations.

In addition to the Kitchener Bitch, there are some other rocking websites offering free vintage patterns. Glamarama has some amazing sweaters as well as patterns for baby soakers (I gave up on the cloth diapers a few months back, but I keep saying that we will start them up again when Julian approaches potty training.) Yesterknits allows you to order one free sample (and I am planning on ordering the cross over jumper.) Yarn Lover's Room has vintage lace. All this talk is making me wonder what the heck I am doing sitting at the computer.

Stripey

2006-05-31T10:03:00.000-05:00

Although I cannot use the digital camera, I am not without photos.

Here are pictures of the last sweater I completed (which is also the first sweater I made for Julian) and Julian wearing the sweater. I like how the stripes turned out. I wish I had made it a little larger as I don't know if he will be fitting into this in the fall. Of course, the sweater was made with random scraps of yarn leftover from other projects (I have no idea which projects, in truth I have no idea where this yarn came from, but who am I to reject yarn which randomly appears in my stash?) and I am not sure I would have had enough to make this sweater any larger.

Weekend Events

2006-05-30T18:38:00.000-05:00

I finished a pair of socks for Fred (using the same gray merino I used for the scarf I made for our friend, Laddie.) I also made a wasabi green merino wool hat for Julian. I would post photos of these lovely finished objects except I can't because our digital camera is not working. I have no idea what is wrong with it, it worked fine before we left the city on Saturday morning, but not Saturday night. Maybe it was the humidity, or being wrapped in a black dress and dragged up to Wisconsin, or Julian dropping it on Easter (we knew that would catch up with us eventually.)

It is an extremely sad thing because, in addition to the finished objects, I also bought some lovely yarn this weekend when I visited the llama farm.

Yes, you read that correctly, my parents' place in Wisconsin is within a mile of a farm which raises llamas and cows. The truly scandalous piece of information is that I have been driving by this llama farm for the past 5 years and never turned into the driveway (alright, we did go once, when Joel and Julie came up for the weekend. But it was cold and rainy and that was the weekend Julian put his hands on the oven, so I wasn't able to take in details. We only noticed the yarn store, but failed to appreciate the significance.) I avoided going because I didn't want to bother people and I didn't know what I was missing.

The fiber studio sells llama wool (as well as a nice variety of yarn you can find elsewhere. And roving, lots of roving) but they also teach spinning classes and sell spinning wheels. While I bought some lovely sock yarn (in color #69, to make Fred another pair of socks) and reevaluated my feelings regarding making my own yarn, Fred, Julian, and my dad watched the cows being fed and the llamas being sheared.

We went back on Monday because I wanted a photo of Julian petting the llamas (although it will take weeks before we get the film developed) and Brigitte took us into the llama pen while they were eating. I bought about 14 ounces of her handspun llama wool (about 12 oz. of a dark brown which will match my shearling coat and 2 oz in black) which is so soft and beautiful and will make a lovely hat (and maybe mittens, or maybe a scarf. I may not have bought enough, but I know where I can get more.)

But, as I said, I can't show you any photos because my digital camera is broken.

Transformations and Fabrications

2006-05-12T09:13:00.000-05:00

I have been reading A History of Hand Knitting by Richard Rutt. I should probably be grateful that knitting was of no interest to me when I was in college because this book, published in 1987, would have probably inspired me to change my area of study. Or maybe not. I ended up in history as much because I couldn't do Japanese No Theatre in Reed's theatre department as out of a love of history. Would a witty and informative book on the history of knitting really have caused me to abandon all my artistic pretentions? It is hard to say. Nevertheless, reading this book now, I am overwhelmed by a profound affection for the topic and writer (who kinda looks like I imagine Fred will when he is old, and if he were an Anglican Bishop...Unfortunately, there are none on the internet and I don't have a scanner handy. Trust me when I tell you this man has my husband's smile.) The introduction alone makes me giddy, with a discussion of the histories on knitting already in existence and the linguistic history of words for knitting, along with a lovely little analysis of the use of the word "knit" in Shakespeare (it appears 38 times, but in only one place may it appear to definitely signify what we consider to mean the act of knitting.) He discusses what we mean by knitting and the "structures readily confused with knitting." I now want to take up nalbinding, but I digress.

So, there I am, lying in bed, reading this book, and I decided to skip ahead to a topic which is close to my knitting heart: Aran. What information might the wonderful Bishop of Leicester be able to tell me about the history of my beloved fishermen sweaters? It started out promising: I open the book to page 195, and there is the caption beneath an extremely intricate cable sweater which reads, "A replica of the first Aran jumper to be noticed in England. The original was bought in Dublin in 1936 by Heinz Kiewe." To be noticed? As if the sweater was just minding its own business at the soda fountain when the fashion press happened upon it. Have I mentioned I absolutely love the way this man writes? Anyway, apparently this man, Heinz Kiewe, went to Ireland, found the sweater, and decided to make the case that this was traditional Aran knitting, linking it to ancient Irish art and the Book of Kells and, presto, knitwear became a souvenir tourists to the Aran islands had to have.

That wasn't such a shock to me. I already knew that the romantic notion of Aran knitting was fictional, that there were no traditional family patterns by which the bodies of the drowned may be identified by loved ones. However, I wasn't expecting to read that cables didn't appear in Aran knitting until the twentieth century. How did the cable arrive on the islands? Brace yourself. It came from America. Rutt details the research of Rohanna Darlington, who interviewed a Mary Dirrane of Inishmore who discussed the knitting of her youth and then

she told how her mother, Margaret, with her friend Maggie O'Toole, had gone to Boston, Massachusetts...There they learned to do cable, moss stitch, and trellis or lattice patterns in knitting...Before that the Aran islanders did not make ganseys, but did only simple plain hosiery and crochet.

Mary and Margaret decided not to settle in America and returned to Ireland in 1908. Back home they blended their new knitting skills with what they saw sailors wearing and experimented with patterns. Other women on the island took up gansey knitting. At some later stage they stopped knitting in the round and changed to knitting flat pieces on two needles. Wools were imported from the mainland and it was gradually discovered that the garments were saleable. (pg. 198)

I know this shouldn't stun me so much. It's just so surprising that most of what one hears about fishermen sweaters is just clever marketing and it was really invented by two young women who decided not to emigrate to the New World. I actually find reality to be even more fantastic than the romantic fiction that has been propagated. To quote Rutt once more

In a short time in a small community, Aran knitting evolved to express a singular communal feeling for design. The folk art of a community does not lack authenticity simply because it has a short history.

The knitting has become emblematic. It belongs historically to the harsh world of famine and emigration, and to the hard life of the rocky islands. The patterns have a rough male Celtic beauty that needs no romanticizing, created by female skills. The women drew on levels of imagination that are earthier and more primitive than pseudo-religious allegories about the shapes of their patterns. Thomas Holmes Mason also wrote of Aran: "There is a tradition that the knitting which is done after dark is always best: because the sheep are asleep."

Reading that and I think it would be impossible for me not to love this book.

And in spite of everything, I still really like this website. Yes, of course, they want you to buy a sweater and the, obviously, the notion of traditional clan patterns is not to be believed. But it is a nice place to go when looking for inspiration for designing your own Aran (and you never have to tell the recipient that there is no such thing as a family pattern, you can always just pretend that this is their family's closely held secret which you were so clever to figure out in order to make them a very special gift.)

Fun Fur Bikini

2006-04-26T11:47:00.000-05:00

"Too pretty to wear, I almost want to put it on my wall."--Jenny Patt

I love fun fur. I know it is considered tacky craft store yarn, but it is so much fun to work with and the final product is so very soft. I have a bunch of black and red and white which I bought a few years ago (when I first learned of this yarn's existence and had plans to make these to sell at lingerie stores.) I sent the prototype to Jenny last week. I had planned to give it to her when she got married, but left it at home. She just had her birthday and is going through finals, so she needed a little something to cheer her up. What, I ask you, is more uplifting than a white furry bikini with pink bows?

I need to make another one. Unfortunately, I am still obsessed with knitting lace and coming up with design ideas which I want to do RIGHT NOW. I want to make a Hello Kitty black lace cardigan (i.e. Hello Kitty's head in lace) to match the Hello Kitty intarsia pullover I made years ago. I then thought, "what about Power Puff Girls lace?" Then I pick up a book of stitch patterns at the library and see a bunch of cables and think, "Forget lace, I'll make sampler squares of all these cables and make a patchwork afghan." Then I remember I have all these unfinished projects that need to be finished (zippers, you may be my waterloo!) So I go back to finishing up the last of the gray lace mohair.

While all these ideas are great, it is hard to decide how to best allocate the few hours of my day which are child-free, and I sortof ish the ideas would just slow down a little so I can implement them instead of rushing at me like a Golden Retriever and making me crabby because my face just got licked and my clothes are muddy.

That's Nice of You To Say, But...

2006-04-24T22:54:00.000-05:00

What Kind of Knitter Are You?

You appear to be a Knitting Guru. You love knitting and do it all the time. While finishing a piece is the plan, you still love the process, and can't imagine a day going by without giving some time to your yarn. Packing for vacation involves leaving ample space for the stash and supplies. It can be hard to tell where the yarn ends and you begin.

I found this test on quizilla. Looking at all the possible choices, I think I would prefer to be a knitting goddess. Unfortunately, while I think everyone should knit and I really want to help everyone achieve their full knitting potential, I just don't have the patience ( or the opportunities) to do so. I sortof worry that "guru" is just a nice way of saying "snob." I get really angry when I walk into certain yarn stores and it seems the goal of the salespeople is to make all the customers who are not regulars feel like they are ham fisted beginners. I hate knitting elitists and I hate to think I may be one myself (if not all of the time, at least some of the time.)

Lace Knitting, Where Have You Been All My Life?

2006-04-24T21:50:00.000-05:00

If I had known of the instant gratification which lace knitting offers, something I had previously thought to be impossible to find in the world of knitting, I would probably have dedicated myself to lace and only lace all these years.

I went from picture one to picture two in under a week, knitting in my spare time (i.e. after Julian went to bed at night, but before I passed out from exhaustion myself.)

The shawl is a variation of a pattern in a Vogue Knitting from 1994. (It's panels of a travelling fern lace stitch separated with panels of seed stitch. I would post the pattern, but I am unsure about copywright infringement. However, there is a very nice triangular shawl (she calls it the Kiri Shawl) with a fern pattern which you can find here.)

Then I whipped up a scarf in two days (I know, I said all of this in my last post. But I have pictures now.) The scarf has a border of seed stitch and a center panel in leaf lace stitch (though they look more like diamonds to me.)

Of course, I haven't produced anything else since then. But family drama and a small active toddler who loves to play in the sunshine are to blame, not lace knitting.

I have spent the week trying to make a hat to match the scarf and have decided it is, perhaps, not worth it (a lace scarf is useful, a lace hat may give you hat head, but won't keep your head warm.) I think I may make another scarf (skinnier) with the rest of the mohair.

Mohair Lace Inferno

2006-04-18T09:10:00.000-05:00

Thinking about all the people for whom one has knit pieces will invariably make one begin thinking of the pieces themselves.

Rebecca has posted a photo of herself wearing a purple/gray mohair scarf I made for her years ago (six years to be exact. I am getting old.) I remember making this scarf using two balls of Classic Elite's Lace Mohair and worrying that it was way too short (I still feel this way, look how short it is in the photo.) At the time it was one of my only forays into the world of lace knitting. What astounded me was how much the scarf "looked like" Rebecca--the lace and the color fit into Rebecca's palette. Rebecca has amazing style and is one of the few women I know who can look elegant in the color gray. In fact, when looking at Rebecca's clothes, I would always be overwhelmed with a desire to run right out and buy the suede pants she was wearing except that deep down I knew it would never work on me. It is the same with this scarf. Much as I loved it (and, in truth, I had originally planned to keep it for myself) I knew, in my heart of hearts, that it was meant for Rebecca. Oh, now I miss her a lot and wish she lived here so that we could go yarn store trolling together--Rebecca moved to the Bay Area (boo) and took up knitting (yay). Of course, had she been a knitter when she lived in Chicago, I may never have given her the scarf. I hesitate to make anything for other people who knit. I feel like the process is so rewarding and I imagine anything they really want, they would have made or are planning to make for themselves. The last thing I want to do is impose my work on someone else. However, in the case of Rebecca and this scarf, I may have forced it upon her anyway because it really looked so perfectly her.

So I was thinking about this scarf and my plans for the four balls of the same lace mohair (in gray) which I have had in my stash for the better part of the last decade. Now, given the fact that I used the same pattern I used for Rebecca's scarf (with repeats of the lace) I expected to have just enough yarn to make a shawl. Apparently, I didn't used number 10 needles for the scarf. Not only did I have enough yarn for a shawl, I completed a scarf (with lace pattern I found in a stitch book) and I still have over half a ball left with which I will most likely make a matching lace hat to go with the scarf. And the strange thing is that I am beginning to understand what all those lace knitters mean when they say lace knitting is addictive. I am not saying that it has replaced my love for making intricately cabled things, but man oh man, there is nothing like lace for instant gratification. It took me two weeks to make Laddie's sport weight scarf and it took only two days to make a lace scarf. I don't remember it being so easy the last time I tried knitting lace. Quite the opposite, in fact. I recall being so frustrated that I swore I would never knit lace again. And it seemed to take every bit as long as any other type of knitting. I was just relieved it turned out okay.

So, yes, instead of finishing the pieces on which I have been working for months, I made a bunch of new things. I haven't blocked anything and Julian dropped our digital camera (Happy Easter!) so it may be a few days before I post pictures or the patterns.

Oh, and lest you think that being a fashion and knitting maven is all there is to Ms. Rebecca, I must add that she is an extremely talented actress and director. I am lucky to have worked with her and hope to be so honored in the future. She is also super smart and a good friend.

Une Echarpe Andalose (An Andalusian Scarf)

2006-04-12T22:52:00.000-05:00

"Do yourself a favor. Get a scarf."-Laddie Odom

I made this scarf for our friend, Laddie, who moved to Baltimore last year. I used merino wool which I have had in my stash for years.

The stitch I used is called Double Andalusian stitch, so while there is nothing inherently surreal about this scarf (unless you find a nearly invisible pocket to be surreal when found on a scarf), I couldn't resist giving it a name which payed homage to Bunuel and Dali. Yes, I am a total geek.

Finished Measurements
Approximately 10 inches wide and 66 inches long

Materials
1 set US #4 straight needles
Approximately 350 grams baby weight merino wool. I can only estimate the amount used as this yarn has been knit and unraveled a few times.

Gauge: 7 stitches=1 inch in double andalusian stitch

Directions
Cast on 66 stitches.
Row 1 and 3: Knit
Row 2: *K2, P4; repeat from * to end
Row 4: P3 *K2, P4; repeat from * to last 5 sts; K2, P3
Repeat rows 1-4 throughout
Continue in pattern as established until piece measures 6 inches, ending with a WS row.

Knit 22 stitches. Over the next 22 stitches, increase stitches by knitting to the front and back of each stitch. Place every other stitch on a stitch holder. Knit remaining 22 stitches (66 stitches on needle, 22 stitches on stitch holder.)

Continue in stitch pattern until piece measures desired length. Bind off stitches.

Pocket: Pick up the 22 stitches on the stitch holder. Work in the established pattern. At the same time, pick up the stitch underneath the first and last stitch of every row and knit together with the stitch on the needle to the back. (This attaches the pocket to the scarf. You may also knit flat and sew the pocket to the scarf.) When pocket is desired depth, bind off stitches.

Wet block. This stitch will cause the resulting fabric to curl. I aggressively and obsessively blocked this scarf so it would lie as flat as possible. The edges still had a smidgen of curl to them, but it wasn't too bad (the pattern has selvage stitches written into it, but you may add more if you prefer.)

Random Question

2006-04-11T13:58:00.000-05:00

Does anyone actually like garter stitch?

Plans, Take 2

2006-04-10T10:14:00.000-05:00

This will be the week when I plan to finish the cashmere fingerless gloves, the zip-up cardigan for Julian, and the fun fur trimmed miniskirt. This will also be the week when I give out gifts to people (either in person or by mail) at which point I can post the photos, the patterns, and their reactions to the knitwear.)

The problem with making a sweater for a baby or toddler is that the baby doesn't really care about the sweater. So instead of having the motivation of a recipient who is desperate to get the hand knit object, you have a recipient who refuses to try on the item to see if it is large enough to (hopefully) fit in the fall. Add to this the whole irritation which comes with sewing on a zipper and you can see how this piece would remain in the unfinished state it has since January.

The miniskirt is another source of irritation. I just would prefer not to attache a lining, but I know I must, and this makes me crabby. So it has also been lounging around the house in pieces for weeks and, with the weather improving and a suspicion that I won't have a chance to wear it until the fall, I have no incentive to finish it anytime soon.

The cashmere fingerless gloves (made from cashmere I recycled from a pair of cashmere gloves which had holes in the fingers) should be finished. They are so close to being finished I have no excuse (I also have no photograph.) But when it is seventy degrees outside, starting a shawl or socks (i.e. something which might get used between now and october) seems so much more appealing.

So, this is the week when I stop making excuses and finish the projects so that I may post the patterns here. At least, that is what I am telling myself today, Monday. Things always have a way of not working out the way we hope. Especially when one is planning one's knitting around a toddler.

Too sick to flash

2006-04-01T11:57:00.000-06:00

I have so much yarn under my bed, but I am currently sick in bed and do not have the energy to take pictures of it all and post it here. So I will be unable to participate in any flashing this year.

Plans

2006-03-30T08:43:00.000-06:00

I had great plans for today. Plans involving putting a zipper on the sweater I knit for Julian (which has been sitting in its unzippered and unfinished state for months) and blocking and sewing the miniskirt (and deciding what I wanted to do regarding lining it and making a waistband), and finally finishing the fingerless gloves (which have remained in their almost completed state for so many weeks now.) Alas, it is not to be, for I have a sore throat and will be seeing the doctor instead.

On a somewhat related note, I have been reading up on the history of knitting in Vogue Knitting and the exclusively male knitting guilds which spread throughout Europe during the 17th century:

The training process for a guild knitter was long and elaborate. It took six years to become a master knitter, three as an apprentice and three as a journeyman. After this service the aspiring master knitter was required to produce a felted cap, a pair of stockings or gloves with embroidered decoration, a shirt or waistcoat, and a knitted carpet about six feet by five feet with flowers, foliage, and animals-all in the space of 13 weeks.

13 Weeks?!? At first, I marvel at that. Then I think that if all I did was knit and I didn't have the distractions of a child, a husband, books, the internet, the need to exercise, etc., then I could get more accomplished knittingwise.

Another thing I found fascinating was the fact that all these knitting traditions which we perceive as so very old and longstanding have not been around that long:

The most famous types of traditional knitting, such as Fair Isle, Aran, Shetland lace and Scandinavian "lice" patterns, are not ancient, but date from the 19th century.

So the consitution is older than the tradition of fishermen's sweaters. I don't know how I feel about that. I mean, all these years I have been making fishermen's sweaters, I have had this romantic notion that I am tapping into something far older than myself. And while the tradition predates my birth by at least a century, I guess I am a little disappointed to realize it is only a century or two older than I. I know, I am being so very silly.

The Scarf I Didn't Remember

2006-03-29T14:24:00.000-06:00

This appeared on my real blog earlier this month, but I liked the picture of Dean with the turban scarf, I felt the need to post it here as well. Look how snazzy Dean looks. Of course, I think the scarf has very little to do with that, but hey, I am not above my knitwear piggybacking off of other people's style.

Thank you Dean for sending in the photos and for reminding me of its existence.

I spent hours, days on this scarf and it was one of the first things I made. How could all those brain cells which stored this information have been offline for so long?

Now that I remember, I remember that there are rows where I knit to the back of the stitch and the stitches face in different directions. I remember that it is all stockinette stitch, so it has a tendency to curl in (in spite of my aggressive blocking.) I remember that it is made out of Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride and the color is Onyx.

How could I have forgotten?

On a related note, someone I knew once asked me to make her an item. I did so. Years later, I saw the item I had made for her in a pile along with a lot of other things she no longer wanted. It was an odd experience because while I had no emotional connection to the item I had made and really didn't care what she did with it (as it was her possession to do with as she liked), I wasn't sure if I should say something ("Hey, isn't that the item you requested I make for you years ago?") or just pretend I hadn't seen it. Of course I understand that people's tastes change and something we desperately want at one time can seem like a waste of space years later. I was surprised she didn't hide the item from me, but then I realized she probably didn't remember where she had acquired the item in question and thought nothing of leavng it out for me to see. She would have been mortified if I had commented on it, so of course, I said nothing. But I won't be making her anything ever again.

It's a strange thing memory. Most people credit themselves with having a great memory, insisting that their version of events is the correct one and deem all versions which disagree with the one they have in their head to be false. This can be difficult when talking about the past with others. It can get really difficult when one has documents (photographs, journal entries, videotape) which contradicts another's memories because instead of letting go, the person in question will oftentimes grasp at the illusion created by their brain. We all want what we believe to be true to be true and reality has no business proving us wrong.

Post Scrypt: My tact at not mentioning anything was commented upon, as was my plan to never make anything for the friend in question. Perhaps I was wrong to not say anything at the time. However, now that I have chosen silence (and blogged about it) I know that I cannot mention anything because the friend would be mortified to be told that she is the person in question and the whole situation would make me really uncomfortable. So, because she may be reading this and thinking up a scheme in which she may make amends, it would be best if we just never speak of this in real life because I will reveal her identity here (and elsewhere) if she should so confront me. I really hate conflict of any sort and didn't bring this up in order to shame anyone into public displays of contrition.

As for the not making her anything and my reasons for this, this is what I wrote as a response to a comment to the original post:

It makes me sad when I see the hand knit items at the thrift store and know that the Salvation Army was probably not where the creator had intended the creation to go. The problem with handknit items is that they seem to live in this limbo between clothing and something else. One can accept that clothing is expendable. But what of the handknit sweater? It functions as clothing, but when we start to examine the amount of time, effort, and love which went into the creation of it, it takes on a value far greater than one we would ascribe to a mere article of clothing. One has the right to treat one's possessions as one sees fit. But one also has the right to limit how much of one's time will be spent creating something for another person (especially when one has a list of people clamoring for knit items and a limited amount of time.) And in the case I described, I think what bothered me more than the person discarding my item was the fact that the person clearly didn't remember that had made the item in question. It would have been one thing if she had said "hey, you made this for me and I can't use it anymore. Is it okay if I give it away to someone?" That would have given me the opportunity to say "no problem. I can totally see how that no longer suits you." But by it just being there and her not saying anything, it felt like she failed to acknowledge the time I put into the item.

Anyway, enough about that. Here is another picture of Dean wearing the scarf I made over a decade ago.

Knittastic

2006-03-29T12:35:00.000-06:00

Because what the world needs now is another knitting blog.

Some friends of mine have blogs that are dedicated to knitting and I have been sucked into this alternate world of knitting web pages. I must admit to being a bit disturbed by the bulk of the online knitting blogs I have encountered. Yes, there are the great ones like yarn harlot, but so many of the blogs out there seem to strike this cooler than thou, look what I can do and aren't I fabulous tone. It makes me feel strange, frankly. A friend of mine who, like me, has been knitting since she was a child, commented that while she likes all the cool knitting patterns and yarns that are available everywhere, she feels the need to make it clear that she is not a trendy knitter. I know how she feels. This goes beyond the tendency we all have to assert that we did something before it was cool. It gets to something else, some need we have to state that we are above the competition, but if those who are interested in competing even try to take us on, they are in for a beating. And this is totally nuts because this is knitting we are talking about. However, I do want to talk about knitting and I have a lot to say about knitting, but I don't want my other blog to turn into a knitting blog. And I have a ton of patterns I have created over the years and while I can't believe anyone might want to replicate them, I can at least show them off.

I have already written about Knitting and Breastfeeding and I have written a knitting related eulogy to Penny Spokes wherein I ask for people to send me photos of them wearing stuff I made them.