Category Archives: knitting

February 6, 2013 · 4:17 PM

Pears, not bananas

I finished* my Lazy Daisy Shawlette** (previously mentioned here) from my handspun merino superwash roving from Pigeonroof Studios.

Pears bandana

The color of the roving is called Bosc, but it often looked like a ripe Bartlett, and some days it most closely resembles an over-ripe banana, but I choose not to think of it that way.  I like my bananas still a bit green; over-ripe turns my stomach a bit – especially their odor.

Pears with pears

See that little drip of pinkish red left of center?  It screamed out at me when I was spinning, but I love it – it’s the drip that brings it back into pear territory

Pears with pear

I finished this in record time because I was completely monogamous with the project.  Usually I get a little tired with something or my hands and wrists begin to ache, but not this time.  I’m discovering that color changes are more of a motivation for me rather than watching texture change or seeing rapid growth.

Pears drape

Record time also means I f*cked it up, and don’t want to acknowledge it yet.  I ran out of yarn three inches short of completing the bind-off.  A “good”*** knitter would rip it out and re-do, but screw that.  I used a little bit of recycled sweater yarn – it matches in color in certain places, but not texture or sheen.

Pears with tip

See?  Well, I probably won’t be able to tolerate it at some point, and I’m also afraid the edges will soon roll – again a “good” knitter would rip and tink back and do a few more garter rows to prevent rolling, but I don’t want to – I had intended to do more, I’m just shit at judging remaining yarn amounts.  I think I’ll probably attempt to spin something complementary and add a few more rows later, but for now I’m done.

*If you got to the end of this, you know it might not actually be finished yet.

**The pattern, by Orange Flower (aka Sketchbook) on ravelry is described as a recipe, and it is a good/easy one.  The original version has the maker doing a crocheted edge, but I am crochet-challenged, so I omitted that and only stuck to the increasing on every row aspect of it – great for showing off handspun.

***Don’t tell me there’s a “proper” way to do anything…see my work-in-progess manifesto in about.

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January 25, 2013 · 10:29 PM

Fiber high

I have other things I should be doing, other things I should be finishing, more important life/money/job things that really need my attention, but instead I started another project.  A very simple one with very lovely fiber from Pigeonroof Studios.  I spun it last summer when I should have been doing other things then too, but I couldn’t resist its siren song of buttery sproingyness.  I bought it on impulse, wondered why others praised it, and spent more than I normally do for just a few ounces (but I normally buy rough raw stuff or cheap rejected bits).  And then it came and I realized it’s fiber crack (or whatever is better than crack but just as addicting).*  Seriously, I don’t want to go back to my cheap street farm-level habit now.  The fiber basically spun itself and the colors popped through my fingers – spinning happiness at its best.  So now in the frozen days of winter, I couldn’t stop myself, and I’m enjoying every bright and buttery-kitteny-soft moment of letting it slip through my fingers.

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The pattern I’m vaguely following is the Lazy Daisy Shawlette by Orange Flower, and alas, I can’t afford to buy any more of the fiber at the moment, unless I start pawning selling some of my things.

*Drug addiction is serious stuff, I apologize for making light of it, but what other colorful exaggerations about addictions can be made? Saying it’s like a nice stiff drink on a thirsty day actually makes me sound like an alcoholic (and making light of alcoholism is bad too), saying it’s like having a [insert good poker hand here] when the pot is huge sort of endorses gambling and I hate casinos, saying it’s like a daily mega-hunk of chocolate while under the throes of PMS would alienate a male reader, and I don’t even want to get into the sex-addict analogies… [hee hee anal is in analogies]…addictions of any sort are bad, get help.

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January 22, 2013 · 11:16 PM

Sock, you suck

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As I was finishing up the second in a pair of socks, I was thinking about how I would write them up on my ravelry page.  I was going to be brazen and claim that I was never afflicted with second sock syndrome –  in fact, the second usually flies off the needles.  This one flew alright, and I was so brazen that I didn’t try it on once…until just now.  What insult can you hurl at a sock?  It has no mother to wear combat boots, it’s sexless so it can’t go f*ck itself, it has no religion and thus hell isn’t a place it can go…  But I want to hurt this second sock, make it feel very low and very bad, but all I could do was rip it out.    Now the sock pictured above, in near perfect knitted glory, is its older twin (older by nearly three years)!  I was going to call this an UFO, but I figured I could whip it out in a week or so.  I knit socks only in the spaces of time that I wouldn’t knit otherwise – they are the perfect little project I can tuck inside a purse and work on while traveling and waiting.  I haven’t done much waiting lately, and these were started on metal needles, so I was afraid of the TSA and thus didn’t take them traveling much, so my sock knitting timetable nearly screeched to a halt on this pair.  So what happened in the meantime?  I think I forgot that my new aforementioned metal needles were a size smaller than my normal ones and that the first sock was an experiment to see if I could go down a size and still use my standard stitch counts.  Then I probably ripped out the first sock and started again with four or so more stitches (I still need to count) but by the foot section I could in fact go down to my regular stitch count on the smaller needles, so I forgot the business about the top.  At least that’s what I think happened.  I can’t look at the pile of kinky ripped yarn anymore, and that’s too bad, the first one fits soooo well, and I can’t wait to wear it…maybe I can sneak it on with one from another pair if my pants are long enough, or I am bold enough…maybe it need not ever have a twin (maybe that was its plan all along and it sabotaged its twin in knitero!)

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January 21, 2013 · 12:01 PM

Dr. King, President Obama

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Brilliant statement.

(Not so brilliant job writing it down, but it was in Zuccotti Park, so perhaps the maker was tired from Occupying Wall Street)

Onward, and hopes for real, positive, and radical change in the next four years!

And for a daily dose of fiber, knit yourself an Obama!

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January 17, 2013 · 1:38 PM

Long term UFOs – part IV

The cotton blanket pooling experiment.

Would this be an anniversary or a birthday? Regardless, I started this blanket around [actually over] 10 years ago shortly after learning to knit, shortly after making too many garter stitch scarves, so this was the same thing only sewn together to convince myself I had improved as a knitter.  I never finished it, I never cared?  I think because shortly thereafter I finally got the courage, motivation, balls to learn to move past the garter.  Also back then summers in my old city were cool, and I often needed a blanket while reading/knitting on the sofa in the evenings –  but a on a few warmer nights I needed something a little cooler than wool, so I had cotton snuggling thoughts.  But then global warming ramped up and summer blanket thoughts began to go away.  Maybe I should finish this before I’ll only need a cotton blanket in the winter, or maybe menopause will make me want it again, and shed it, and want it again, and shed it, and want it again?

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I took this picture in the old house, and we don’t have this sofa anymore – it actually stayed in said house, so the whole package with the cotton blanket on the cotton sofa in a pleasing color scheme can’t be repeated anyway…  Meh.  I’m also a bit snotty about the yarn – bought before the new wave of LYSs, so it came from one of the big boxes which I generally avoid now, and I’m not a giant fan of knitting with cotton these days – too hard on my hands.  I would consider donating this or gifting it, but much still needs to be done if I finish as I envisioned it.  However, I could just finish the last green stripe, sew it together and just call it done, but then it would be an awkward size – too big for lap or crib, but too small for throw…well see… I’m not going to commit to finishing it as yet.  It might be a good project to take when I’m away somewhere and is the only thing I’ve got.

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December 10, 2012 · 7:31 PM

Missing my studio and my old city…

Mine is a tale too common of late, and it could be much, much worse but it has left me unmoored…  Last spring I lost my job that had been more of an obsession, a way of life, than just a place to go and do something in exchange for money.  I left my beloved small city that I had threatened to leave so many times in the earlier years, but I discovered that I had grown with it, and really loved it after all.  I now live with the generosity of my partner N in the grey areas of the suburban outskirts of the east coast where fantastic cities are an hour’s drive away, yet a walk outside my door is impossible due to the overwhelming and maddening car culture of the area.  In my former city, we had a humble house of our own, technically two and one half stories, but you can call it three.  The two rooms on the third floor were my “studio” as well as the depository for off season clothing since the old structure only had tiny closets from the time we owned so much less.  In one room was my sewing machine  in a little window nook, birds-eye level with the trees in the back and a tiny glimpse of a beautiful cemetery one block away.

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In the other was a comfy window seat where we napped and watched the neighbors come and go from the bus stop.  The middle of the floor was about the size of a king sized bed, so I could lay out my quilts to piece and baste.  Both rooms had shelves lining the walls so most of my various stashes were visible and accessible.  We lovingly restored the house to something of its original state and spent days and lung tissue stripping off the shellac on these floors and finishing them to an outrageous glossiness.  Our realtor took this picture, and it appeared on the listing of the house when it sold.  No one questioned having a photo of a room with a dead pheasant (which my grandfather killed decades before I was born) perhaps since hunting was popular in the rural areas outside of the city.

front 3rd

The curtains were a vintage find to the precise length needed for the windows, and I regret not photographing them in detail, but they continue to live in the house (I hope).  I am still lucky enough to have a workspace in our temporary rented apartment, but it is shared with our boxed up lives, my part-time work-from-home station, and all stashed materials are now boxed and stacked high, or bagged and lumped.  It is hard to finish things in this state, especially when I know I have the perfect handles or thread somewhere, just somewhere, but can’t find them…

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