My pair in Noro Silk Garden Light. I didn't even bother trying to match them exactly, as the colorways in Noro are not necessarily that predictable. I was pleasantly surprised that the feet just happened to match so well, even though the tops are different. I suppose if I had knit them toe-up rather than top down, the tops would have matched. Oh well. At least they look like they belong together.
The blue socks are also finished, and the second sock went surprisingly quickly, despite the ribbing. They are actually the same size, but the first sock has spent more time on the foot of the recipient, being admired although not yet really worn much. Not much you can do with one sock, at least not as long as you have two feet.
I've already started my next project, which you will see soon enough and I have managed to spend a couple of hours up in the studio, beginning the long process of unpacking, although you couldn't really tell that yet if you took a look. Next week should be promising though.
One plus One does may equal Two, but does not necessarily make a pair.
To Wit:
One Sock. Started in January. Abandoned in February. Restarted in March (last weekend) and finished.
Another Sock. Started in February and finished in early March.
When I went to Texas last month I intended to take my knitting with me. The blue sock, which is the first half of a pair for G, was just at the point where it was getting fun again, where I was about to start turningthe heel. I didn't realize that I had left it home until I was already at the airport. No problem, I thought, I can not knit for 4 days.
Wrong. Saturday, when we were at mom's old house, which happens to be fairly near The Woolie Ewe, I convinced her that I needed yarn. I managed to restrain myself and only buy one skein of Noro Silk Garden Sock and a set of size 1 double-points. Enough to have something should the urge to knit strike. It did, briefly, although I only knitted about 2 inches during that trip.
When I got home I was too intrigued by the Noro colors to go back to the blue sock so I continued knitting my own sock. I am still not getting as much knitting time in the evenings as I did in the hotel, or even back in Hyde Park, but I do manage to get an hour several evenings a week, and sometimes even two. I discovered the series Lie to Me on Netflix and I've been watching it when the opportunity arises, and knitting as I watch. When I finished the Noro sock, I immediately went back and finished G's first sock. I finished season 1 of the series, and the second sock, last night. There was just enough time left in the final episode to cast on another sock, and I opted for my pair, using the Noro yarn. We are set to continue, the sock and I, later tonight.
Have you missed the knitting? So have I. Somewhere along the line I stopped knitting, probably about the same time I stopped reading blogs and blogging, but it is all rather vague now.
I started knitting a sock a few weeks ago and rapidly got about 5 or 6 inches along before I realized that it was too large for the recipient (G) and ripped it out. It is now progressing at a snail's pace as I've just been too preoccupied elsewhere to give it the attention it deserves. The fact that I am knitting in 2×2 rib deserves mention as well; ribbing remains my least favorite thing to knit despite forcing myself to do it occasionally, and I am sure that when I am tired at night, endless ribbing does not inspire me to knit deep into the wee hours.
I did finish the purple sweater that was blocking in early January. I am fairly pleased with the outcome.
This is basically a boxy sweater shape, inspired by a sweater I saw on the Eileen Fisher website. I just wasn't sure about the actual size of the original, the actual color, or if it was as I imagined it so I knit my own, naming it Eileen in honor of the original. By the way, I have since seen the original, and although it is lovely, and I would have worn it had I purchased it, I like my own Eileen sweater much better.
I wanted a lightweight mohair sweater with a bit of a melange effect. I knit the body using a light fingering weight mohair (Classic Elite Giselle) held together with a lace weight variegated merino (Ella Rae Lace Merino), both in purple shades. I love the way the two yarns worked together to form a soft blending of related colors.
I wanted the collar to be a bit more substantial than the light airy sweater, and I wanted solid color that harmonized with the colors in the sweater. Neither of the yarns used for the body was appropriate. Luckily Rowan's Kid Classic, an aran weight wool and mohair blend came in the perfect color and weight. After the body of the sweater was knitted, blocked, and assembled, I picked up stitches and knit the collar about 8 inches deep.
I love the generous width of the shawl collar and the sweater is lovely worn as shown in the first photo. However, that has been a little too warm for the Knoxville winter as I have experienced it so far this year. More often I have just been letting it hang open, which gives it a nice drape, either with the collar rolled back as above, or just left flat.
'Though as you can see that didn't work with this particular outfit.
Here is a blurry cell-phone shot of my knitting progress. The second sleeve for this sweater will be finished tonight. It should have been finished before now, but I have fallen asleep on the sofa two nights running. I'm not yet that near done; Once I sew the shoulder seams, I have a large, roughly 8-inch shawl collar to pick up and knit.
Temporary residence is getting wearing. Luckily it looks like we may be in the house and living amongst the boxes within 10 to 11 days. We close on the new house next Friday, and our old furniture is scheduled to arrive on Saturday. Even if there are delays I hope it will be here no later than Monday, and we are in, even if still unsettled.
These photos were taken at the beginning of the week. Since then, more has been accomplished. The floors have been put in. That annoying little granite backsplash/ridge above the countertops has been removed and the tile backsplash has been installed, although I haven't seen it yet.
G was surprised that I would chose such traditional cabinets. Apparently my style is quite modern. I reminded him of the agreed-upon parameters (stay within the builder's standard options). I can always reassess in a few years.
It all feels like confusion and chaos here, although I do realize that objectively speaking it is not quite that bad. G might say otherwise, but I expected his confusion to deepen as we got closer to an actual moving date. I pray now that my patience will hold, although I think that with an occasional chocolate fix I shall remain steady.
I have finally managed to photograph a finished project.
This is the Milanese Loop by Tante Ehm, a free pattern download from Ravelry.
It was knit using around 1 1/2 skeins of Aslan Trends Royal Alpaca in a lovely rich royal blue. I think it is just lovely worn long like this but it would also be lusciously warm and cozy wrapped two or three times around the neck on a cold winter's day.
I really like the simple lace pattern. But when I was done with this it was time for something simpler.
The bulky cowl below was inspired by Marian, also a free Ravelry download, although I didn't download the pattern. It was a spur-of-the-moment purchase and knit after seeing it knit in this same gray yarn, Ella Rae's super bulky yarn Mega. Even though I was intrigued, and everyone in my knitting group was purchasing the yarn that night, it wasn't until I tried it on over Creep that I was completely sold. Luckily this one is a really fast knit.
As I mentioned above I didn't check the pattern, just cast on what seemed like an appropriate number of stitches on what I hoped was an appropriate needle and went ahead. I like the result even though my cowl is narrower and firmer than the original. Perhaps it will stretch and drape over time, but I really don't care. I am perfectly happy with it now.
I'm now down to simple stockinette projects and very limited knitting time and attention span. I expect things to be crazy busy around here so expect erratic postings. In two weeks I will be in Knoxville.
Although it is probably possible to arrange to move and pack and also blog consistently, and I am sure there are people who can manage it with panache, I am apparently not one of those people. So postings shall just remain erratic, regular, in that I believe I can manage more than one post per week, but not on any fixed schedule.
I finally took Creep off the blocking board. Getting it on my body in a way I liked proved to be a bit more problematic and there was a brief period when I feared I had created an orphan, a loved orphan but an orphan nonetheless.
It proved not to be so. Here I am wearing Creep with a black turtleneck and black Joseph Ribkhoff pull-on pants, so far the only successful outfit. Behind me on the bed you see the pile of rejected options. Quite a few of them will work in time, once I accumulate the proper supporting players. For example, Creep looks fabulous with my new deep greenish-black J Brand cords, but not in combination with any top currently in my possession. And as you can see, Creep definitetely needs to be worn with a top.
There are also some issues with placement, namely taming Creep's natural urge to become a boob harness, that need to be considered. Although there are probably situations in life where breast bondage may be desired, they are certainly outside my normal territorial rangings, consisting as they do of post office, grocery store, pharmacy, and doctor's offices. In fact, I can comfortably say that I hope never to find myself a situation where Creep's asset-framing propensities were considered desireable, if not de-rigeur.
As to other things, I am almost finished packing up my yarn and fabric stash. Of course I have to lay my hands upon every piece, admire it, contemplate its potential and finally fold (fabric) or count (balls of yarn) each item before cataloging it and boxing it away. I expected this to be the most time consuming, and overwhelming part of the packing process and in many ways it has been. I will finish packing bulk of my collection today but there will still be the last few boxes to address before my self-imposed Thanksgiving deadline: the last box of fabric, the one I hope I might get an opportunity to sew before I move, even as I know it is not likely, and the last box of yarn, which shall be the first in Knoville, the box of yarn that will keep my fingers busy those evenings first in temporary housing and then while unpacking once we are finally in place.
Creep has been on the blocking board since Monday. It is completely dry, and yet I am loathe to unpin it and take it up. It just looks so pretty lying there, in the corner, on my bedroom floor. I am entranced by the architecture of it, the way it sometimes looks like a row of stone columns marching across the floor or the way it sometimes reminds of a grouping of stained glass windows. Perhaps the effect is best experienced early in the morning, when I have not yet donned my glasses, or at those odd moments, when I am not expecting it and it catches my eye as I walk across the room. Folding will ruin the effect. There shall be no lump of joy when I gaze upon its neat blue form on the shelf. I am fairly confident I will enjoy wearing it, but for the moment I am content to just sit and drink my coffee and gaze fondly upon it.
The photo above was taken in the late afternoon sun, when droplets of water still clung to the top of the wool. My poor camera skills were inadequate to capture the magic and yet, when I looked at this photo just now, my mind's eye remembered the combination of glistening water on soft wool, the aetherial sparkle, and I am again rendered speechless that this small bit of beauty could be lying on my own bedroom floor, knitted and pinned in place by my own hands.
Alas, I have descended from knitting nirvana into one of the lower circles of hell. Worst of all, I have done it to myself. As I finished up Creep I was already thinking about what I would knit next, and I decided to do something with the two remaining balls of the lovely Royal Alpaca that I had originally intended to use for Creep before Moisés got his claws into it. I fell hard for the lovely Milanese Loop on Ravelry and as soon as I pinned Creep to the floor, I sat down and cast on. It is not a difficult pattern; a few short weeks ago I would have just ripped through it.
You might recall that I took it into my head to learn a new way of knitting, as if the way I had been knitting for 20 years was not good enough. Now, just as I had gotten comfortable with the new technique on straight needles, I had to adapt to circulars. 50 stitches into the first round I was ready to pull my hair out, telling myself I was a total birdbrain. By the time I got 100 stitches into the round I was constantly dropping and retensioning the yarn in my right hand, but at least I had a grip on the needles. By the time I got to stitch number 200, it was smooth sailing, slow but with a natural rhythm, and I thought "I can do this". There are only 224 stitches in a round.
Then all hell broke loose. The first and last six rows of this pattern are knit in garter stitch. That doesn't sound so bad. But I am knitting in the round. That means I have to purl the even numbered rows. Purling was my downfall. I couldn't get the yarn around the needle to make a loop. My hands kept cramping up. I was muttering curses under my breath, cursing whoever thought up this method of knitting, cursing myself for ever thinking that I needed to learn something new. Most of all I was cursing whoever thought that knitting garter stitch in the round was a good idea. Who wants to purl in the round? People knit in the round to avoid purling.
I had to take a break, go look at creep lying innocently on the floor, take a few deep breaths, and remind myself that I could indeed produce something lovely, tell myself that I would not be beaten by stupid knitting. And yet, those 224 purled stitches almost did me in, almost made me into a blithering lunatic. I was muttering curses under my breath that would make the saltiest sailor blush, my hands all contorted into unnatural shapes, and I wouldn't be surprised if my hair was standing on end as well. Even my cats thought I had lost my mind; they abandoned me in the middle of a complete purl-induced breakdown and were sitting across the room, staring at me wide-eyed with alarm.
When I finally finished that row I uttered a huge sigh of releif. I had to make a cup of tea just to hold it and let my hands relax. I looked forward to a row of simple knit stitches, but to my chagrin, I had lost the hard-won rhythm I had finally achieved at the end of the first row and had to start learning all over. Luckily this time I got the rhythm after the first 100 stitches, leaving half a row of joy before venturing on another row of pain and suffering.
Now I never minded purling before this. I never understood people who hated to purl, who would knit in the round just to avoid having to make a purl stitch. Even learning the new technique I had no trouble making purl stitches on a straight needle with the needle firmly anchored under my arm. But the small tip of a circular held in my hand was a completely different story. It took me four hours to knit those six cursed rows. Four hours to knit 1496 stitches. And I'll admit I cheated. I went back to my old technique. It was the only way I survived. I'd still be knitting those accursed six rows of garter stitch if I hadn't reverted. But my hands paid. Throwing the way I used to throw is much harder on my arthritic knuckles. Even though I was nearly spent, I had to knit the first couple of rows of the pattern, using the new technique, just to calm my hands and my mind. I had to quit for the evening with a win.
Now that I have another 96 rows of nice straight knitting ahead of me I can relax. Already I want to drag it out, make the knitting last as long as possible before I have to purl again. Maybe it will be simpler by then. Maybe.
For my next project though, I will be back on straight needles. New techniques are probaly best mastered one step at a time. But I still have doubts about purling in the round.
Another finished sweater. This one with far more ambivalent results.
I am just not sure what I think. It does look a great deal like the pattern photo:
But the fabric feel to light and flimsy to me, and the drape of the rayon makes the belt grow longer and thinner as the day wears on. I am constantly readjusting.
So I tried removing the belt, opening up the side seams to make belt loops and wearing a different belt with the sweater. It may be marginally better, but I am not convinced we are meant for each other, this sweater and I.
More likely I let my imagination run away with my common sense.
Somehow it felt like I wore a lot of black last week, and it's true, I did wear black three days. I don't think I wore black three days all summer, except perhaps for gym clothes. My gym wardrobe pretty much revolves around black pants and a black tee, but generally that is the exception to my wardrobe rules.
So, why the black? And why is it even notable? I mentioned last week that I am not purchasing black items right now, although I have not eliminated black from my wardrobe. If I did I would lose most of my basic pieces, and I don't really want to have to replace them all at once. I'd prefer to eliminate them as I purchase or make new basics that work better for me.
But black worked for me this week, partly because there were a few days when I did not feel like wearing jeans, and it seemed too late in the season to be wearing white pants other than jeans, which meant that pretty much all that was left in my fall wardrobe was one summer skirt, and black.
For example, there was this sweater, which I finished in August, and which has been sitting patiently on Matilda waiting for me to wear it. Admittedly I had issues, and it was too hot in August for wool and silk anyway, but now that I've finally worn it most of those issues have been resolved. Some garments just seem to need to worm their way into my heart slowly.
I originally knit this sweater last January, ripped it out, and reknit it. The second time around I knit a size smaller, the medium, or 29" bust measurement, which fit the pattern instructions to knit with approximately 9 inches of negative ease. The first time I was apparently suffering from cognitive dissonance and I knit a larger size. I still sometimes do that, think I am bigger than I am, and the results are usually not pretty.
When I decided to knit this pattern, which is named Valencia, (non-ravelry link here) I noted that several people on Ravelry said that the sweater was either too tight or too short, the shortness undoubtedly being secondary to excessive widthwise stretching. Although most of them were using different yarns, not the yarn recommended in the pattern, and although I am all for yarn substitution, I thought that yarn could be part of the difference. The pattern was written for Cascade's Venezia Worsted, a wool silk blend. The silk gives the yarn a subtle shine and a bit of drape, with the wool providing a bit of recovery. Yarns that drape tend to grow or relax more than yarns without drape. I used the same yarn because I happen to love it, and because it was available at my LYS. But the sweater still drapes more than it clings. Were I to knit it again, I might use a different yarn, or were I to use the wool/silk blend again, I would go down another size. The warmth of the body encourages the drape, and the sweater is looser on me than it was on Matilda.
But I am happy with it and will wear it again and again. The color is actually more blue than in these photos, more like the color in the original January post. My photoshop skills are not adequate to overcome the warming effect of the rather horizontal autumnal sun. And I believe the sweater will look fabulous with the kind of soft, muted, medium tones purple, violet and gray toward which in increasingly gravitate.
But it worked with black. And black is good too, and perfect for a transitional wardrobe when life is a bit unsettled. I wore the sweater with black Born wedges, black knit pants by Joseph Ribkoff, and a lightweight black mesh cardigan. Since I have several black cardigans in different weights this may well prove to be a basic outfit over the next two to three months as I pack, move, and get settled. I really like this cardigan and wish I had another one in a different color, but since the label came off long ago, and the store from which I bought it has closed, I have no idea where to look and may end up eventually knitting something.
You might be wondering why, if I have a break in my time, I am not regaling you with things I've made, specifically things I've knit. I believe I mentioned that there have been two finished projects, which were done when I had less knitting time, but since my time has "freed up" nothing, nothing at all.
Or of course, you might not be wondering at all, not being a knitter, and you might be thinking "OMG she's about to go on and on about boring stuff involving long pointy sticks and string". And you'd be right. This is your chance, quit now or suffer the consequences.
I actually was sitting and knitting in the evenings, working on this kind of odd vesty-thing. It is designed by Anne Thompson and is called Creep. I was using this incredibly luscious alpaca yarn by Asland Trends, in a yummy shade of blue, blissfully whiling away the hours, when my knitting encountered an accident in the form of a four-legged terror. You see, I made a mistake. I put my knitting away, in my knitting bag, which zips closed, but (and this is a really BIG BUT) I left the zipper open by maybe half an inch, maybe less, at any rate not much.
And you know I've told you about how my sweet little baby cat, Moisés loves yarn, and is a very focused hunter. When he gets an idea in his head it stays there; he may file it away in some back corner of his little cat brain while he pursues more immediate concerns like chasing lights and flies, but as soon as an opportunity presents itself, he remembers and pounces.
Anyway Moises has figured out that if I leave the tiniest little opening in the zipper, he can get his claws in there and make it a little bigger, worrying that zipper along until the opening gets bigger and bigger until eventually he can get his head in the bag and survey the options before reaching in and snagging some prize.
Well of course, soft yummy alpaca is very tempting to a yarn loving cat. When I got up the next morning, this is what I found. Not particularly pretty is it? Of course I thought I would rip it out and start again, but the way this is knit and cast off and picked up and knit again (just writing all that gives me a headache) makes it difficult enough to unravel and the whole thing is made more complicated by the ministrations of little kitty claws.
I spent one whole evening, 3 hours, and got maybe a few feet of yarn untangled. And although some part of me doesn't want to admit to being defeated by yarn, I learned that it is only a very small bit. I am very willing to cut my losses and get back to what is important, namely knitting.
Now that sounds simple doesn't it?
But no. My evil little brain sometimes gets the better of me. I had a small part of that skein of soft blue yarn left and I wanted to do something with it. Apparently, like Moisés I store ideas up in the back of my brain where they pop out, unexpectedly, when an opportunity presents itself.
A friend and I had been talking about learning lever knitting, which is basically knitting, where one needle remains relatively motionless and the yarn is manipulated around the fixed needle. I decided that it had been too long since I forced myself to learn something new and this little bit of blue yarn offered huge potential for subjecting me to some kind of prolonged torture in the name of education.
I spent another day attempting to learn to hold my needles and my yarn differently. Mostly I just ripped and reknit the same little bit of yarn over and over again with increasing frustration. In desperation I turned to the web (yes, I know I should have done that first, but well, sometimes I am a slow learner), and I found a video of Stephanie Pearl-McPhee knitting using the lever method, or Irish cottage knitting.
I was entranced. I watched this thing over and over again. Something really clicked when she compared the action of knitting to the action of a sewing machine, and I really wanted to do this.
My fingers could work like a sewing machine when there was no yarn in my hands, but doing it with actual yarn was problematic. Either my yarn fell off my hands and I dropped stitches, or I wrapped the yarn so tightly that it cut off the circulation in my fingers and got my hands locked in place with the needle. I spent another day in a protracted struggle with yarn and needles before it finally began to click.
Obviously I am not a natural knitter.
A week later I am reknitting Creep with new yarn. This time I am using Cascade Venezia Worsted in a lovely teal. I am not yet faster than I was before, but I like this technique. My tension is tighter than it used to be and far more even. My knitting tension remains remarkably even whatever my personal tension level happens to be. My tension remained consistent even after I accidentally flung a 14 inch metal needle across the waiting room of the Vassar Brothers Medical Center Radiology Department yesterday and had to listen to it clang as it bounced along the tile floor several times, even as I endured the irate glare of the lady who had just told us all to be "very very quiet" because she couldn't hear Judge Alex on the television, even as I nervously managed to tangle my fingers in the yarn and then drop the yarn under the chairs as I tried to extricate myself, even after all of that, my tension remained fabulously even.
As too Creep. I will confess that at the moment I have doubts. I look at the pattern picture above, and the mess of loopy knitting hanging off my needles and wonder what I was thinking when I decided to knit this project. Oh, I will probably love it in the end. At least I hope I will love it in the end. Right now my brain is too fogged up with learning new things to really think clearly, but I am loving knitting, and am sneaking in a row or two whenever I get a chance, so I know it will have been worthwhile whatever the outcome.