Although some progress has been made on sock and cardigan, neither is really photo-worthy.
And so I shall offer flowers.
In other knitting news, Gina sent me a link to the Vogue Knitting Fall Preview and I think I am in love with the entire Gray’s Anatomy segment, and some of Modern English as well.
And yet there are still summer sweaters I want to knit, even though summer will probably be gone before they are done.
It has been a strange week, outside the normal routine, and as a result certain things, like my attempts at maintaining this blog, have fallen by the wayside.
I managed to finished Otto’s left front and have begun the right, although great progress has not yet been made, I am about 1/10 of the way along the length.
I had thought I would make great progress at knitting tonight, but with all the hustle and bustle and upset of schedules this week, with surprise houseguests and last minute calls to several repairmen, I seem to have forgotten to check the calendar.
Namely I had forgotten that I had promised G to go to a movie tonight. Bard College is showing the movies of Max Ophuls over the next couple of weeks and G was very interested in seeing some of them. Unfortunately they are mostly on Thurday nights, although there is an occasional Sunday matinee, a night that he usually works late. He really wanted to see the one shown tonight, Liebelei, and had altered his office schedule to insure that he would get out of work in time.
I was totally surprised when, at 5:30 my darling arrives at home, just as I am warming up my own left-over dinner, expecting dinner and a trip up to the movies. It worked out. I had not left for knitting yet. And I admit I did wish to see the movie as well. I had seen several movies by Max Ophuls during my college years, but really couldn’t remember if I had seen this one or not.
I took the sock with me, but little to no knitting progress was made. Unlike "The Devil Wears Prada", "Liebelei" requires pretty close attention, especially considering it is in German with English subtitles and my German is non-existent. I probably could have done straight stockinette, but was ready to do the heel, and there was no way I could attempt to wrap short row stitches in the darkened theater on size 2 needles.
It was no great loss, the movie was really excellent and makes me wonder if it is possible to rent other movies by Ophuls. I remember thinking they were quite good, but G has not seen any of the others. The movie was a tragedy, but it was very lightly handled. Ophuls seems really good at portrayng emotions and contrasting them without being heavy handed; and his juxtapositions can shock without seeming forced. The movie’s very lightness seems to make it very effective at portraying the silliness of the rules by which we drive society. It is also an incredibly romantic movie without being saccharine and overly sentimental, the way so many love stories seem to be today. The end of the movie is quite disturbing in a strange and almost modern way. I really can’t explain, perhaps words will come eventually, but I left feeling almost voyeuristic, as if I had been watching something I should not have been. Oddly enough this made me think about how we think about our own lives.
Despite this, it was a most enjoyable evening. For a moment I thought we should go to the others, but G’s Thursdays are already scheduled, and despite enjoying the movie, I miss the knitting group. So Thursdays should go back to routine: no more movies, no Thursday concerts at Tanglewood, and no Thursday plays at Vassar College. Just knitting.
The gray skies, luckily no longer rain-filled, remind me of soft things and lazy days. In keeping with this general theme, it was a slow and lazy weekend, not terribly ambitious, but more or less relaxed, especially after the rain stopped on Saturday.
Saturday was a little busier, just with moving buckets around the family room and kitchen catching the leaks. They seemed to move about along a fixed path, and there was constant re-adjusting of bucket location, followed by a chorus of pings and pops. When the music stopped, it was time to move the buckets, not as I always hoped, a signal that the drips had ceased. The masons actually came on Sunday morning to cap the chimneys, and three hours and about 2000 pounds of concrete later they were done. Tomorrow they will come add a cricket to the roof to drain water from behind the rather massive chimney and finish the flashing. Hopefully this week’s rains will remain outside where they belong.
After the rain on Saturday we went down to the Samuel F. B, Morse estate for their annual gala. It is an outdoor event under a tent, planned to take advantage of their spectacular gardens and the height of the peony blooms. The rain did not help and even the peonies looked a little bedraggled. The humans crowded into the indoor spaces hoping to stay dry and not wilt in the heat of so many in a small space.
I had been frazzled that morning rearranging my evening wardrobe choices. The original garment was long and delicate, made of fine silk, and I was reluctant to drag the hem through the wet grass and mud. G picked an outfit for me that I would never have chosen, pointing out that I don’t have to worship at the shrine of Armani for every event, but which ended up being perfect. I truly had not noticed that the invitation had not specified black tie this year, I assumed it was the same as in the past. I wore a heavily beaded Indian printed cotton skirt, long, just above the ankle, with strappy black sandals. It is a skirt I have never been able to figure how to wear. I would put it on and try outfits and take it off – I love the piece but it was always too ethnic, too heavy, too something. I had a matching red silk sweater set which was perfect, simple and classic, and just the right combination with the skirt. The whole thing was set off by several pieces of large turquoise jewelry. A bracelet of Chinese turquoise:
And an American Indian turquoise pendant:
And I felt very festive and yet not too dressed. Perfect for a summer garden party with a bit of dancing. This revising of my image of myself is proving very interesting.
Sunday we puttered in the garden watching the masons sweating on the roof and then we wandered off to the Farmer’s Market and a little grocery shopping. That afternoon we headed over to a neighbor’s house for a “barbecue”, which prompted a little discussion in our small household.
G wants to know why the term “barbecue” is used when someone is just cooking burgers or hotdogs, or if you are lucky, chicken and steak, on a grill, most commonly a gas grill. European born and bred, barbecue was not a part of his early cultural training. Barbecue is something he encountered later, in college in North Carolina, and the term will forever be linked in his mind with Carolina style pulled pork.
Truthfully I can’t answer. When I invite people over to food prepared on the grill, I still think in terms of the probably old-fashioned term “cookout” and reserve “barbecue” for when we are, indeed, serving barbecue. Although with my Texas roots, my definition of barbecue encompasses a variety of cuts beef and pork as well as various sausages. Is this a regionalism, like the terms soda, pop, and, in certain parts of the country, plain old “coke” used for any carbonated soft drink, or is it a shift in usage?
Anyway, there was no barbecue: just the standard cookout fare: hotdogs, hamburgers, potato salad and cole slaw. We came home sated and tired and settled down to watch The 4400 while I knitted. Otto is progressing. His soft colors fit the weather and my mood. I have begun the armhole shaping.
I have calculated that there are only 78 more rows before the shoulders.
Oh, and I have some pulled pork barbecue waiting for G when he comes in from mowing.
Gauge is a devil, it is. Getting gauge for Sweetie Pie has been an interesting challenge.
I mentioned the other day that I started my battle with gauge using the Cotton Stria yarn with the recommended needle size, size 6. What I did not mention was the type of needle I was using. I was using a beautiful pair of Lantern Moon hardwood needles.
Why?
My original thoughts were something in this vein: I prefer knitting on metal needles, usually Addi Turbo or Inox, circular, but straight on occasion, depending on project. I knit loosely. Usually I knit cotton more loosely than wool and cotton needs the support of a tighter gauge. My gauge is usually smaller on wooden needles than metal. Start with wood.. I prefer hardwood to bamboo. Start with hardwood. The Lantern Moon needles are pretty and short. Good choice for a baby sweater.
When the swatch ended up considerably too small, we had an interesting discussion around the table on Claire’s front porch.
Alexine, who is an accomplished and excellent knitter, tends to be of the opinion that you should get the same gauge on any needle of the same size, regardless of material. I can certainly understand the logic of this. Alexine may be such an accomplished knitter that this is indeed her experience. I am not so experienced. I will admit that in a nice smooth wool I do get the same gauge with any needle. Branch out into other fibers, or unplied wool yarns and anything can happen.
I did have a pair of size 6 addis on me and thought I would try to swatch on those. Eileen thought that since the metal is smoother and more slippery I would knit more tightly, trying to keep the yarn on the needle. This is not usually the case with me. The more the yarn sticks to the needle the more tightly I knit – probably due to pure frustration as I like my yarn to flow nicely and smoothly from skein to knitted fabric.
At any rate I did try the metal needles with no success. It was very hot and humid Tuesday night. We moved inside when the rain began, but there was no air-conditioning and, if anything, the heat was worse indoors. The yarn stuck to my hands and I could not control the tension. The needles however were perfectly slippery. I had tight yarn in my hands falling off slippery needles. The situation was impossibly frustrating and I gave up. Lesson learned: do not knit this yarn outdoors in hot humid weather.
At home, in the AC, I tried several more swatches and did end up using turbo, size 5’s, not so bad really. When I am cool the yarn slips over my hands and over the needles, It makes a nice, soft, fabric with nice drape.
Otto is progressing well, but not particularly photogenically.
Therefore I have decided to regale you with a few other pending projects.
Remember the Zephyr yarn I purchased a few weeks ago at Yarn Central?
Well, I finally picked a shawl pattern. I am going to use this one:
It is called Seascape Shawl from Fiber Trends and it took me a while to make the decision. I went through my lace and shawl patterns, an easy task as there are precious few. Then I started sorting through all the accumulated knitting journals and decided it was a thankless task. I started searching the web instead. There wee many appealing options, and I ended up ordering several shawl patterns. Seize any excuse for ordering more knitting patterns, that’s my motto. I will probably knit all of them eventually. This is actually the one I thought I would chose all along. So why did I order more lace patterns? I don’t know. I suppose I was just second-guessing myself.
I don’t think I will start this right away. I am enjoying knitting Otto. Besides I can’t really see myself wearing it for a couple of months yet.
I also started playing with baby sweater ideas again. My next baby sweater project will be this really cute pattern from Minnow Knits called Sweetie Pie.
The yarn is Manos del Uruguay Cotton Stria. I started a gauge swatch tonight when I met up with Alexine and the Tuesday knitters. The group has been rather erratic of late, my attendance as well. At any rate I took needles from size 6 down to size 3 figuring the pattern stated that the sample was knit on a size 6, and I usually go down two needle sizes for most projects. It is true that I occasionally, more frequently of late, have been knitting true to the specified gauge, but, before tonight, I don’t think I have ever had to go up a needle size. I am a bonafide member of the loosey-goosey knitting club. But the evidence was incontrovertible. The swatch was only 3 inches wide. Even if it relaxes upon washing, I have serious doubts that it will expand that much. Alexine says she usually goes up two needle sizes using that yarn, and she is another loose knitter. Well, I didn’t have larger needles, although I was aware that I could borrow some. I was so amazed and stunned that I really needed to let this news slowly filter through the neurons. Otto provided an adequate excuse.
I will admit it. I am addicted to sugar and to Diet Coke.
I stopped drinking diet soda, in fact almost all soda, a year ago, in April or May 2005. I thought the diet stuff was upsetting my tummy and I can’t stand the sweetness of the non-diet stuff. Corn syrup is a terrible thing in a beverage, it makes it almost unpalatable. All you taste is sweet.
I drank lots of water. Still I missed the fizz and the sweet, and that steady little stream of caffeine.
The past week or so I have been stressed. I have had tremendous cravings for a diet coke. Yesterday I gave in and my fate was sealed. Life is too short not to indulge a few minor vices.
I came home, bottle of contraband in hand. I put ice in a glass, poured the soda, put the bottle in the refrigerator, sat down and had a sip, then another, then another. Before I knew it the glass was empty. A huge sigh escaped my lips. I could feel myself beginning to relax, the tension slipping away with a million tiny little bubbles and sweet chaser. I know it must all be in my head; I am not sure that diet soda is truly addictive, but I felt more myself. I felt light and sparkly, bright and cheerful. I felt like a burden had just fizzled away in a carbonated haze.
After half an hour I picked up some knitting again. Nothing special. Nothing requiring thought. A ball of yarn meant to be a scarf previously knitted and unknitted. Simple garter stitch. Bright yarn running through the fingers. Happiness.
I like the colors of the yarn. I like the way it looks in garter stitch. I think it would be a lovely jacket, but it would have to be pieced in strips because I like the way the color changes form wide stripes on the scarf-width; they would be too narrow as a jacket front, much more so even if I knit it in the round. No matter. I don’t know the name of the yarn. I have no idea how to get more. If I see it, the jacket is planned in my mind. If I don’t it will hover in the mist like all dreams, providing endless entertainment.
The diet soda will remain in my life. I know a good thing when I see it (or drink it).
Note, this post was actually written yesterday (Wednesday), but due to telephone and internet problems it could not be posted. In fact, both the telephone and cable lines were underwater as the protective shielding had cracked and filled with water, requiring the lines to be replaced from street to house. It was actually interesting to see how much water can come pouring out of 275 feet of shielded cable.
It seems that the world has been inexorably changed, soaked, sodden, from the recent rains. Or at least it seems that inundation has been the frame of reference which shapes my world of late.
Work has been overwhelming, crazy even, with impossible demands on all fronts, grumpy patients, impatient clients and general stress and frustration all around. I generally consider myself lucky that my job allows me pretty much to work on my own schedule, and mostly from home, this week excepted. Internet service has been erratic at best and totally down most of the time. Phone service is barely functioning. Lines drops unexpectedly. When I am connected, static is the order of the day and everyone sounds like they are talking under water. Perhaps the phones are flooded…who knows. Dealing with demanding clients while struggling with a virtually non-existent phone system does not make for a happy office manager.
At least cell service seems unaffected. Good thing that. After years of getting no, or very little wireless signal at our house, only reliably in the yellow bathroom, or the South east corner of the driveway, we have had consistent wireless connections for about two months now, on any phone, whereas before, only my ancient Star-Tac, the one that dates prior to new shielding requirements and fancy new features, could reliably pick up a signal, and even that was variable. Every phone company in the area told me no phone would get a signal if that one couldn’t so until recently there was no reason to replace it.
The construction front has been similarly plagued by chaos. Weather stoppages, missing information, mis-communication, more changes to the plans, contractors that want to work even though the plans aren’t done and we are still waiting for approval from the building inspector. Everyone has an opinion and it is at odds with everyone else’s opinion. Past surveys are inadequate. Headaches abound.
Needless to say knitting has been stalled as well. I did finish the last sleeve of Rogue, but nothing has been sewn together yet. I am not one of those people who can sew sweaters while chatting at knitting group or watching TV. I need a quiet place where I can pay attention to my work. There has been no such place or time of late. Even when the world seems quiet my mind is agitated. Assembly issues must wait.
The thought of starting another project has been overwhelming, not because I don’t want to knit but more because I don’t want to swatch and calculate. Nothing can be started without adequate preparation or heartache will ensue. I have enough of projects that go wrong for now. In fact I have had enough of calculations and math and anything that seems remotely like work. Instead I lose myself in fiction whenever the chance for a momentary reprieve finds me: Julian Barnes, Elizabeth George, and Iain Pears have provided my escapes and helped me to maintain my sanity.
Hopefully, calm will follow.
The baby sweater progresses:
Now, I am not one to get totally neurotic about matching stripes on hand-dyed or self-striping yarn. If I wanted a sweater to match exactly, I would simply knit it with a bunch of different colored yarns, were I could exercise total control of the outcome.
That said, some planning is still required:
If I knitted the front of the sweater beginning with the same skein used for the back, I would have a white bottom band, as seen above. I do not like the white front bottom band when the back of the sweater is dark at the bottom. Out it went. Rip-it. Rip-it.
The second attempt, with another skein was much more promising:
The front of the sweater, show here with only half of the neck opening knit up, obviously does not match the back, but the bottom bands are very similar in size and color. This anchors the sweater and ties it together, at least. I see that the stripes are quite regular and I probably could have lined this up perfectly. Perhaps if I had bought another skein. But then, as G often tells me, "perfect is the enemy of good" and I shall let it be.
I am happy to have gotten this far although I know in my heart I could have been knitting more. It is not a contest however, and the baby is months away.
In the process of finally moving all my fiber stuff out of the living room and getting it cleaned up I discovered that several books had fallen off the "Trollope Trolley" a round bookcase on wheels which contains the complete works of Anthony Trollope. Of course, as I put the books back into their respective locations I had to pick one or two up and peruse the pages. Perusal led to complete escapism. Hence I have been spending more time rereading Trollope than knitting this week. I have worked my way through some of the lesser known novels: The Fixed Period, Framley Parsonage, and Dr. Thorne. They have provided quite a lovely distraction.
Yesterday I pulled out Tesla for the first time and wore it up to the new yarn shop that opened in Rhinebeck: Bead and Purl. It is a lovely shop, bright, cheerful and welcoming. I wanted to sit right down and stay as soon as I walked into its bright space and turquoise walls. Reminded me of my own new sewing room with its green and turquoise walls. They have a nice selection of Karabella and Rowan wools so far, although stock is still coming in; there is a lot of nice, smooth, knitable yarn, as opposed to the bulky and novelty yarns that seem to dominate some new shops I have been in of late. I wish them great luck.
Tesla was nice to wear, lacy and yet covered. It was cool so I wore a turtle neck under it, and the stainless steel bits nicely caught the sun as it struggled back and forth between the clouds and rain. G. tells me that it is quite seductive, the way the sweater slips partially down one shoulder with its interesting texture and combination of matte and shiny. hmmm…
I was surfing about on the web today and I found Grace’s blog, after she left me a comment on Tesla (her’s is quite lovely by the way) and I found this test:
 |
If I were a Springer-Verlag Graduate Text in Mathematics, I would be William S. Massey’s A Basic Course in Algebraic Topology. I am intended to serve as a textbook for a course in algebraic topology at the beginning graduate level. The main topics covered are the classification of compact 2-manifolds, the fundamental group, covering spaces, singular homology theory, and singular cohomology theory. These topics are developed systematically, avoiding all unecessary definitions, terminology, and technical machinery. Wherever possible, the geometric motivation behind the various concepts is emphasized. Which Springer GTM would you be? The Springer GTM |
Sometimes I take these tests and sometimes I don’t, mostly they are silly, but what intrigues me about this one is that I love Topology. I am not a mathematician, I was an English Major in college, although I later went on to work with computers and get an engineering degree. However one of my college roomates was a math major and she had a lot of trouble with Topology. One of the math tutors would come over to help her, we later became friends, and he always thought I should have become a mathmetician, and once when she was having trouble with something that he couldn’t get across I just explained it to her. I would listen to these talks and it all seemed so obvious to me. In retrospect I see that this was probably maddening to my roommate, that the English major could figure out Topology and she couldn’t, but I didn’t mean it that way. Topology, like Organic Chemistry (which I did take) was just one of the subjects that clicked with me right away and changed the way I looked at the world.
I told you I was a total nerd, right?
Everything else is on hold. Construction was supposed to begin this week on the deck that ate my life, but I stopped it on Friday. It seems the drawings from the engineer aren’t ready yet. The digging was done from an earlier version of the plans and some trenches were dug out for walls that should no longer be there. The electric pool cover has not been ordered and that will take at least 2 to 3 weeks so obviously the construction schedule I was originally given is wrong, as I was told they would be done in 2 to 3 weeks.
There was some discussion as to whether the walls could be poured without the plans, but I nixed that idea. I really don’t understand this "don’t worry, it’ll work out" attitude of so many contractors. Well, it doesn’t always work out, and there is a lot of coordination going on here. Better to wait and pour the conrete right than risk botching the job. I suppose the contractors grumble at having a pair of engineers for clients, by gosh and by golly doesn’t go very far in this household.
Besides, as I look at all the rain we have had this weekend, and the pile of mud that was once my deck, I see that some drainage issues need to be addressed. The water has tunnelled under one of the proposed walls (they did not dig down to bedrock) and had a wall been poured there it would have been eventually undermined, and this is in an area where proper drainage and planning is most critical. There is apparently much more work to be done.
Once upon a time I was a pretty good knitter. I knitted a lot. This has not been much in evidence of late. I will admit that much of my knitting was done while travelling, when there was not much else demanding my attention.
Lately I have accomplished less and my accomplishments have been hard won. Every project seems to get ripped and re-knit. I find this frustrating to no end.
If you look at the picture of the blue scarf you will note many errors. It is not wavy due to sloppy placement on the table, it is wavy due to sloppy knitting.
I am still entranced. Lace knitting is taking me longer. I am still not completely comfortable with fine yarn and large needles. Part of me thinks that big metal needles might be easier but I am afraid that all those loose floppy stitches might slip away. A large wooden needle with a sharper point my be better.
Meantime this is not a project for late night knitting when attention is not at its peak performance level. But only late night knitting has been available of late. The cuff of Rogue is suffering from the same lack of attention — once I get past the sleeve detail it will be mindless sailing.
Perhaps it is time to return to the sock, or start a stockinette project for those days when the hands need knitting therapy and the mind needs rote repetition with little energy requirements.
There has been precious little knitting this week, two rows
I believe, hard won, as they had to be knitted and re-knitted. Much else has been occupying my time;
resorting and rearranging items in the sewing/knitting room; moving cookbooks
out of said room to their future home, not yet ready, but future home
still. I have also been sorting through
old files and materials from G’s old office, only a small portion of which must
be saved at this point, with the idea of eventually combining his “den” and my
“office” into one room that is actually useable, rather than just a room where
things are stored, a combination his and hers office with dual computers. He has been torn, thinking that the reorganization might mean that his room is no longer actually "his" but also admitting that he has been unable to do anything with it, other than use it as a giant storage recepticle and a never ending source of frustration.
before
The house has been pretty much cut in two during the
fireplace rebuilding as it is in the center of one half of the house and the
scaffolding severely limits access around the site. The ensuing chaos has only complicated other takss and added to general exhaustion levels. Kitchen use has also been difficult but I am
informed that the kitchen will be returned to me today, the scaffolding will be
removed and the stove vent will be reinstalled. I might have to wait for the pot-rack until early next week, as that is
being rebuilt. The old one was too small
and too low; pots had to be hung just so to avoid having the chef bump her
head.
the view this morning
figure skating finals, pretty much the extent of my Olympic viewing this
year. There was no knitting and it was
nice to sit there and watch, glass of wine in hand, abandoning all pretense of
productivity. I had put half the pantry
back to rights earlier in the evening, along with some re-arranging and was
ready for mindless time. The Grgich
Hills Chardonnay 1995 was surprisingly still excellent. It had gotten rich and mellow with time, a
perfect way to unwind at the end of a busy week.
Tonight we venture into NYC. I will take the sock; rogue is too bulky to cart around.