KnittingBall

Great day yesterday--spent the first part of the day with friends, ShopHopping, eating and schmoozing, and then saw a great movie with Mr. Pug. A movie I would never have chosen but I really enjoyed. 


A baseball movie, for a couple that never, never--well, hardly ever--goes to a baseball game. What's the deal? And what does it have to do with a knitting blog? Well, it does.


First off, it was a well-acted movie. I'm not a huge Brad Pitt fan because I've always viewed him as a pretty guy without much substance but, well into his forties, he's growing into his looks much the same way Harrison Ford has. He could, in my opinion, become a Clooney--Beautiful at a Certain Age. There are some other well-respected character actors in the movie like Philip Seymour Hoffman, but also some new faces (at least to me) like Jonah Hill. So, not a Beautiful People movie, just good acting and a good story.


Moneyball is based on the real story of an Oakland Athletics general manager faced with competing against larger-market, bigger-budget teams like the New York Yankees, who bought and stole talent from smaller, less well-funded teams. In a year when he lost three of his superstars to such teams, he had the challenge of rebuilding from the ground up on a beer budget. He became convinced that the answer could be found in statistics--that if he could find the players who could (statistically, at least) get on base more often, he could win ballgames. He was battled every step of the way by his scouts, the team's manager, and a skeptical press, yet that team ended up winning an unprecedented 20 games in a row that year (although not the Big Win they were looking for). 


And how does this relate to knitting? Hold on, hold on ... I'm getting there.


Now, I'm really not a student of baseball but the characterizations of the old-time scouts in Moneyball rang true to me. They sounded an awful lot like my father did when he talked about baseball, which he loved way more than anything else in his life, including us. He talked about baseball players the way old racetrack touts talk about horses--about stride and form and athletic build and how they "look" at their particular chosen "spot" on the field. Intuition and past experience play heavily in choosing potential winners. This one's a mudder, that one's good for the sprint but can't go the long haul. Always bet on a red horse, or one with a star on his forehead. (I had a BFF long ago who always bet on a horse with the name "Steve" or one with the title "Doctor." A horse named Dr. Steve would have sent her into ecstasy. She won as often as anyone else, as far as I could see.) 


One player in Moneyball was even criticized for having an ugly girlfriend which supposedly spoke to his self-confidence--how could he be a good player if he didn't have the confidence to have a pretty girlfriend?


So, first and foremost, Moneyball reminded me of my father and of another longtime friend, Larry. I've lost touch with Larry over the years I've been here in Atlanta, but being with him always made me think of my father because of his love of baseball. Larry was the first person who ever explained to me why baseball was more of an intellectual exercise than a game like football or basketball, which were (in his opinion) purely athletic pursuits.


My father died in 1979 and never knew the 2002 team that Moneyball is about but he'd have LOVED this movie. It combined his love of All Things Mathematical with his favorite sport.


But here's how it relates to knitting--you knew I'd get there eventually, didn't you?


I picked up some yarn at Only Ewe and Cotton Too yesterday (hi, Elyse and Bill!) because it was flat-out beautiful. Oh, and it felt good, too. Zara Chine, a gorgeous DK weight, heathered bright red with a hint of black. Great twist, fabulous color and perfect for a vest pattern I have in mind.


Perfect? Well, not exactly because the vest (the Portland Zippered Vest if it matters)--heavily cabled and intricately patterned, calls for worsted weight. If I'm going to use the Zara, it's going to require some heavy rethinking of the pattern to make up for the difference in gauge and weight. Thankfully, Susan D volunteered to help me and it MIGHT work but that's really not my inclination. My inclination, like the old baseball scouts, is to use my intuition and say, "oh, what the heck! I'm sure it'll all work out" because I desperately WANT it to work out. 


But that's really not my experience--I have a pile of failed projects that didn't "work out" because I skimped on the planning (and plodding) process.


The way it's going to work out is with a heavy application of math and statistics, not with a hopeful spirit and a generous dash of wishes. I'm going to have to add spreadsheet and calculator to my knitting bag. I'm going to work with Susan to rehash the pattern--add a repeat here, go up or down a needle size, actually fit it to my tension and my body size, and there's a good chance it might actually fit when I'm through. 


But like the critics and the old scouts, I think it'll take some of the magic out of the old game.

Reader, Writer, and Knitter, of course

If I had to describe myself in a few words--not so easy for someone as wordy as me, as you know!--three of those words would be reader, writer, knitter. And, of course, parent, grandmother, dog lover, semi-spouse. Yadda, yadda. The list goes on and on.

We're all complex creatures, of course, and that's what has always fascinated me about people. When I was appraising real estate, I loved to go into someone's house and try to identify what the owner was passionate about. Most of us are passionate about something, whether it's a craft, reading, or collecting some arcane object.

(Frankly, if you're not passionate about something ... well, shame on you.)

Anyway, I'd wander through someone's personal space, all in the name of business, of course, and while I was taking notes on square footage and condition of the appliances and carpeting, I'd be checking out the shelf space. I would see the most amazing things--at least they amazed me.

Sometimes the things people collected were pretty run-of-the-mill. Pottery or a particular kind of glassware or cow creamers--yes, I do remember someone who had hundreds of cow creamers. Very Bertie Wooster, that. I saw more doll collections than you can imagine, which only tells me that someone's spending way too much time with the shopping channels. It's only my opinion, but there's something just a little creepy about all those Marie Osmond dolls staring blankly out from behind the glass cabinetry.

One time I went into a very ordinary house in the F... M ... subdivision of Herndon. House was ordinary, owner was ordinary, nothing special one way or another. Then I got to the master bedroom. Over the bed was a huge, and I mean VERY LARGE, oil painting of Fabio on horseback riding through the woods, that long shiny hair flying in the wind, teeth glistening, and a sensuous look on his face. He looked like he was coming right toward me so he could ... well, let's just say that I got a twitch in a few unbusinesslike parts.  What I once heard a romance writer call "the nether regions," although I'd have to look up "nether" to see if that's an accurate use of the word.*

Once I recovered my equilibrium, I asked the owner, "uh, not to be too personal, but ... uh ... what's the deal with Fabio?" Because let's face it. I'd seen a bunch of stuff, but Fabio hanging over the bed? I don't know what I thought the explanation would be (it was before the days when we were used to hearing about erections that last more than four hours and personal lubricants), but I was unprepared for it.

Turned out, she was a romance writer. She showed me a bookcase of her books published by Harlequin Books and the oil painting was the original art for one of her book covers. She said she wasn't sure which was the greater thrill--knowing her books were being read by thousands of horny women throughout the world, or knowing that Fabio was on the cover. Well, that was in Fabio's heyday--I'm assuming that by now he's just another long-haired wrinkly old dude, but I got her meaning.

I'm digressing again, aren't I? Well, not surprising. That's what I do.

Anyway, I've been a reader since I was very young. I was an only child until I was nine, and life in those days was ... let's just say, I spent an awful lot of time alone, and I read, all the time. And reading is still a huge part of my life ... everything from the daily paper to The New Yorker to knitting magazines to novels to histories to ... well, you get the idea. I'm one of those people who reads billboards and cereal boxes and yarn ballbands and other people's blogs.

And I also write, mostly for myself, but that's okay. I'm my own best fan, so why not? And of course, I knit. Well, we knew that, didn't we?

So, who cares? What's this all about? Glad you asked!

First of all, you all know that Wednesday is Noble Knitters night, right? Yup. That's the once-a-week knitalong that makes Hump Day bearable for me. Our group has been meeting at the Barnes & Noble at the Avenue in Norcross for a couple of years now and has grown from a few people to a pretty steady 10-20 folks. It's become an oasis of knitting camaraderie in what is often a fairly stressful workweek for me, and it's pretty much what held me together when I was ... between jobs. (And, believe me, there's NOTHING more stressful than that!)

So I wasn't all that excited about having it disrupted by a book signing, even if the book was knitting-related. Because here's the ugly truth: I'm not all that crazy about knit lit. I've enjoyed the Monica Ferris stories but have been pretty disappointed by some of the others, especially that one lady who keeps claiming that, soon, very soon, any minute now, just wait, Julia Roberts is going to star in her new movie and the one who keeps telling me to find Jesus in the stitches. Frankly, I'd rather see a vampire movie.

But, it should be interesting to meet someone who's probably not too unlike the rest of us around the table, except that she's found a way to make a living doing what we do for free. (Free? Who am I kidding? We're paying for this stuff!)

And Bill and Elyse from Only Ewe and Cotton Too were doing door prizes! You just can't improve on that!

Terri Dulong was so delightful! Turns out she's a transplant from the blustery northeast to Florida, which, even if it really isn't The South in the way that Gawga is, is still southernish. She's a former RN who's written several books that most of us haven't heard of, but hit the big time with her novel about Cedar Key, FL and a series of knitting heroines. 

And, needless to say, she's a Reader, a Writer, a Knitter. Yeah, yeah ... I know her book has "spinning" in the title, which is why I walked past it when I saw it on the table at B&N the other day. I mean, I'm as much of a fiberista as the next person, and I do have several spindles hanging out at home in a mug waiting to spin up something wonderful, but, nah, I'll wait for it to turn into yarn, thank you very much.

But she did show us her knitting, and unless she picked it up in a dark alley from a half-completed-knitting dealer, I assume she actually knit it. Actually, I sort of like that concept--the darkly beautiful knitter of a certain age--a redhead, of course, because they're ALL redheads--who hangs out at Michaels to get knitting wannabes hooked on that famous gateway drug, merino wool. She sells them a partially complete sock on double points so they can flash it when they go into a real yarn store and gain acceptance. Now there's a character you could build a novel around! Can she gain redemption taking acrylic to the homeless?

Back to Terri. She had some great stories, both about her life and her writing. (It was worth the price of admission just to see our own Scarlett O'Haras giggle over the way Terri said "scawf." Wow! Don't you just think it's hysterically funny when people have regional accents? Amazing!)

So, hang on to your hats for a review, coming soon, of Spinning Forward. My hopes are high--I enjoyed the parts she read to us and hearing about the book and the ones to come. And she inspired me--I swear, next year I'm going back to Malice Domestic with a manuscript to show around.

And, did I say? I met another reader, writer, knitter who's got a writing group! Woo hoo! (Hi, Cheryl!) I was floating, all the way home.

_____________________
*neth⋅er  /ˈnɛðər/ 
–adjective
1. lying or believed to lie beneath the earth's surface; infernal: the nether regions.


2. lower or under: his nether lip.

Origin:


bef. 900; ME nethere, OE neothera, nithera, deriv. of nither down (c. G nieder), lit., further down, equiv. to ni- down + -ther comp. suffix

Praise ... and a Quibble

When's the last time someone trusted someone else in the retail world? Never, you say? Well, almost.

The current economic climate (Cloudy days ahead, chance of continuing flooding, run for your life!) has made all of us a little cynical about each other, I suppose. And, let's face it--it's not that easy to make a living. We have to take every opportunity.

So I'm always happy when I can support a designer or a supplier in the yarn business. No, really--it's not that I need or want more yarn or patterns, I'm just trying to do my part to keep the economy going. (Hush, now! Don't be cynical! It's not becoming!)

Anyway, last week I saw that one designer for whom I have the utmost respect is giving up publishing her quarterly newsletter. Part of the explanation seems to be that digital downloads--and particularly Ravelry downloads--are costing her money because of copyright infringement.  Sad, but definitely part of the digital publishing world these days. It's affecting every single medium from newspapers to hard-cover books.

On the same day, I saw a pattern on Ravelry from another designer that piqued my interest. Went to the website and found Janet Scanlon. Yes, Janet who designed the My Constant Companion felted bag we all made ten years or so ago.

I saw two felted bags that got my attention--quick there's a new one there now! Why didn't I see it before?-and clicked order. I got a message that told me to email her and she'd send it. And bill me later. What? Is she crazy?

I emailed her and ordered. She responded immediately, apologizing that she'd have to charge me postage. Uh, yeah ... of course. Again, crazy?

Two days later the patterns arrived. With an invoice. Shipping was ... uh, exact postage. Crazy? Each page of the pattern comes in its own vinyl protector, with the pages stapled, so you can knit from the pattern without taking it out of its protector to turn the pages. Amazing!

So--praise. Janet is a woman who still believes in people. (And, yes, I put the check in the mail already! Did you have to ask?) She advertises a product, sends it on trust, and it's just what she promised and you wanted. Amazing in this world of mistrust and thievery.

But, and here comes the quibble, she prints her patterns on that same blue paper that Fiber Trends used to use. Do they still? I don't think so. People stopped buying them because they were too hard to read and I think FT has now gone to a different color.

Why the blue, somewhere between turquoise and cobalt? I've always heard it's to keep people from making copies or scanning the patterns into their computers. BUT for me, it's a problem. My eyesight has always been sort of dicey and these days it seems to be worsening every day. I am struggling to read these patterns. I can read them but I have to be in a very bright room--definitely not my bedroom where I usually knit. Not enough contrast for these eyes.

Bottom line: Go to the website and buy her patterns. (Check out Mercury, the messenger bag! Oh, my!) Knit one of them. But just among ourselves, Janet, I'd rather have paid you upfront and gotten the pattern on a lighter piece of paper that I could read.

The Church of the Knit Stitch

When I was a child, back in the dark ages of the 50s and the 60s, people’s religious affiliations were very much known and defined who they were and what they did on any particular day. For instance, my two best friends in the 6th grade were Jewish and Catholic. I knew that one went to Catechism class on Saturday and mass on Sunday. The other went to temple on Saturday and Hebrew School on Tuesday. Don’t go looking for them! They’re not available. As for me, I was Episcopalian, which was mostly weird to my friends—“we’ve never heard of it, we can’t spell it, and we don’t know anyone else who’s Epis…Epish…Epip … never mind!”


When we moved to suburban Maryland when I was in the 7th grade, our local parish church was a huge part of my life—I sang in the choir, attended services, picked strawberries for the annual Strawberry Festival, went on retreats with the youth group—so many of the people I knew were from the church. That continued through high school. Again, I knew the affiliations of many, if not most, of my school acquaintances. (I have to admit: I didn’t know any Baptists. They came into my life only when I moved south.) The bottom line: we all had an affiliation that might as well have been tattooed on our chests and we all sat in a pew of some sort and if you didn’t you were odd man out.


Over the years, although I still think of myself as an Episcopalian and still attend services on a sporadic basis, my religion no longer defines me – it’s simply one part of who I am. For me, my belief system is in a constant state of flux, and reflects the influences of many different religious and secular traditions and groups, both ancient and New Age. Think ancient Anglican rites with a Buddhist twang. As for my friends, I suspect they’re from many different religious backgrounds, though I really couldn’t say. I know some folks who attend regular services of one kind or another. I know a few who have very strong convictions and more power to them. Others have no apparent affiliation; a few consider themselves “recovering” from one type of religion or another. A recent survey of 35,000 Americans by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life noted that about 16% of those surveyed reported no affiliation at all, so I think it’s just part of a trend.


But we’re an amazingly spiritual group. Almost everyone I know on a daily basis has a rich spiritual life and a surprisingly large number of those folks regularly share their thoughts and hopes and beliefs with people they imagine or know to be open to hearing about them. I’m constantly amazed by the diversity of interests among those I know and those I come in contact with, and the openminded respect most people have for the belief systems of others. For myself, I really don’t care what your beliefs are, I’m just happy you’ve found something that makes you feel better about your life. And happy not to have you force it on me, thank you very much.


More and more, though, my spiritual life revolves around the simple activities in my life that aren’t necessarily found in my local mega-church. My spiritual advisors are the folks I come into contact with on a daily basis. My spiritual experiences are more likely to involve the joy that comes from seeing a butterfly in my back yard or a cherry blossom floating to the ground, and not necessarily a psalm written in a long-dead language. Or the pleasure of watching the yarn go around the needle over and over, making one stitch, then another, then a pattern repeat, then a row. One minute you’re knitting a tube, the next minute you’ve turned the heel. Your yarn has transformed from a ball to a garment. It’s changed. Life changes. We all change.


And the prayers of my childhood have morphed as I’ve aged, too. Now I’m just as likely to send a message to the universe through the knit stitch, as I knit a helmet liner for a soldier thousands of miles away or a pair of socks for a child I’ll never know or see. Knitting safety, knitting warmth, knitting love.


What brought all this up, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you. This week, our knitting group celebrated a significant birthday with a member we’ve all come to know a little and like a lot. We waited to hear about the results of some medical tests, and, as we sat and knitted, we sent our good thoughts to her, reassuring that we would be here with her, knitting, no matter what the results meant. A woman I’ve come to care deeply about is home recovering from major surgery—we’ll sit with her this week and knit good wishes and love into our conversations, transmitting hope through the osmosis of knitting. Other friends have lost their jobs, or, praise the knit stitch, kept their jobs. This one’s husband is sick, that one’s is recovering from an illness. Someone’s waking up in the middle of the night with an anxiety attack, someone's embarking on a new career or starting a business, someone else is fussing over the details of an upcoming event. We're all worried about money. And we're all knitting through these experiences, together.


And last night two friends passed on some love to me. They infused me with love as much as if they’d held my hands and prayed with me. They brought me a lovely children’s book about Dog Heaven that made me weep for my lost babies and at the same time remember that they’re not lost at all. They’re still with me. As a matter of fact, I was knitting away on a pair of socks this morning that have been on the needles for at least a year and I found a black pug hair woven into one of the socks. I'm currently out of black pugs, but I’d guess there’s a little black pug hair in most of what I own, and I’ll probably never be black-pug-hair-free. Whose hair was it? Bluto’s? Lightning’s? Doesn’t matter. I didn’t pull it out—I just kept knitting. But I felt the love.

Slow Stashing?

In this week's Knitter's Review, Clara Parkes makes some very good points about what she calls "slow stashing." This is obviously a timely subject, especially given the current uncertain economic times. And, of course, this is Resolution Week.

Ravelry and the various Yahoo groups (Knitlist, Sockknitters, etc.) are all buzzing this week with posts by people who would like to get their yarn stashes under control. This is nothing new--it seems to come up every year--and it's sort of the craft equivalent of dieting and fitness resolutions. There are the folks who promise to buy no new yarn this year, and some of them have statistics from previous years to prove they can do it.

Really--do these people have no life? Who keeps spreadsheets on miles of yarn knit, stitches counted, grams and balls of yarn used? This is the equivalent of deciding that yarn is fibery trans fats and to be shunned. Yarn is beauty and love--how can it all come down to keeping track of how fast you got rid of it? If you hate it so much, give it away, throw it away, send it to me. I'll love it.

Sorry, back to the point. Parkes recognizes in her essay that many of us will have fewer resources to commit to yarn this year, but that yarn and knitting have roles in our lives that go beyond the sustenance view of the yarn dieters. We don't buy yarn for the same reasons that our grandmothers did, because someone needed a pair of socks or a sweater to keep from being cold. We also buy it because we want to create something beautiful, or want to believe we will. For those of us who buy yarn for this reason, Cold Turkey won't do.

Neither will it work for us to give up beautiful yarn and buy only Big Box acrylic and fun fur. We need wonderful, luxurious yarns.

Of course, there are a few who cry that they will buy no yarn at all, except ... well, Wendy Johnson allows sock yarn in her yarn diet, and you just can't argue with that.

And our vendors, whether they're local yarn stores or favorite internet sellers, need us to buy yarn too. Economic recovery isn't a one-way street--we need to buy so others can stay in business too.

So, Parkes's idea is fundamentally good, in my opinion. She suggests "slow stashing" which I would interpret to mean using moderation and mindfulness about our acquisitiveness. I like this idea. It's sort of the Weight Watchers approach to eating. It says, yes, you need a certain amount of nutrition. No, it's really not healthy to say you're never going to eat carbs or butter again. No, if you deny yourself completely, you'll be back eating at the trough again pretty quickly.

Now, here's where Parkes and I diverge. She says to start with an unblinking survey of your current stash, dividing yarn into two piles, Happy Yarn and Unhappy Yarn. The Happy yarn makes you happy and the ... well, you get the point.

But it won't work in my stash. Happy and Unhappy don't begin to cover the problem at Chez Pug. Here are the piles I propose:

• Happy AKA "Oh, wow! I still love you!" (Brooks Farm Acero comes to mind when thinking about this pile.)
• What the heck were you thinking? Or more to the point, Who were you when you bought this yarn? (And how many shooters did I do during the 80's to make me think I was ever going to wear Hot Pink mohair?)
• It was such a bargain, it would have been wrong not to buy it.
• I paid so much for it that I can't throw it away.
• I bought enough to fit me but now ... well, 'nuff said.
• The child I was going to make this baby surprise sweater for is 15 now.
• My friend made me buy it.
• The guilt/mercy purchase--I couldn't leave the store without buying something.
• I fell in love with it and I don't care if it's totally impractical.
• It's ugly but there's an orphan somewhere that won't care.

Now don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. We all have yarn like that if we would just admit it.

Can't Resist Noro

Why is Noro irresistible? After the ugliness of my very public breakup with Noro Silk Garden Sock, you'd think I'd run from Noro screaming.

So here's where I admit that I had the same problem with my first husband--couldn't live with him, couldn't let him go. That ended (thank God!) with marriage to #2, but there were days when I wondered if we'd be tied forever.

Whew! That felt good to admit, if a little embarrassing. But back to Noro.

There's a new term floating around Ravelry--Viral Knits. It's really about addictive, public relationships with yarn, and frankly, it sounds gross but it's kind of fun. Kind of like group sex but without the divorces and STDs. It's about those patterns that, one day, you've never heard of them and the next, everyone and their sister is wearing one. Except me. I'm always last to adopt a Viral Knit.

Come on-- you know the ones I'm talking about. Remember when EVERYONE made a Clapotis scarf? Not me.

Then we ALL had Monkey socks? Not me. Pomotomous? Knot ... er, not me.

Central Park Hoodie? My So-Called Scarf? Icarus? No, no, no.

The latest is the February Lady sweater. When we were at SAFF this year, there was a positive buzz around the fairgrounds about the FLS. (Overheard at the Brooks Farm booth: "Did you see that February Lady?" "Yes, wasn't it gorgeous?" "Yeah, which of your yarns would you recommend for that pattern?")

Of course, I'm always the last to know and I couldn't figure out what the heck they were talking about. Finally, I saw two people walking near each other at the front of the building. They weren't together but their outerwear had a certain similarity and, good news, I knew one of the wearers. Could it be? I quickly stopped her and said, "Wow! I really love your ... (pause)" and she said, "Oh, my February Lady. Thanks!" Then I knew. Once again, I was behind the trend.

So, one of the big Virals this year is the Brooklyn Tweed Scarf by Jared Flood. And, of course, he used the dreaded Noro Silk Garden to make it--three separate colors, for God's sake.

But I'm just getting over being jilted by NSG. Could I try again? What if he ... did it to me again?

Let's just say, I'm in love, again. And, yes, it's my ex, Noro. And who wouldn't love him? And, yes, my friends are talking behind my back about my lack of control. Who cares? We're in love!

To prove my sanity, however, check this out. Dream in Color Smooshy (Pansy Golightly)--how gorgeous is that! My lovely friend Ellen gifted me with a skein of this last week and we had to wind it immediately--talk about the siren song! Then once I got home I HAD to cast on--it's my old friend Spring Forward socks, but toe-up this time.

(It's a fact--when you're going out with Noro, you gotta have someone on the side!)

And, yes, I do have yarn picked out from my stash for the February Lady. Unfortunately, by the time I get it made, there will be some new hot Viral and I'll be a HasBeen again. Oh, well .... c'est la vie.

Amalgam

Today, an amalgam of miscellany. First, and not miscellaneous at all, it's Haley's 17th birthday, which is fairly amazing. Here she is at a recent soccer tournament with her dad. I love this picture! This weekend she's at another soccer tournament, this one in Raleigh, and that's why I'm missing her birthday. Well, I saw her last week so maybe that counts, but it doesn't feel like it.

Next, a picture just because I love it. Brandon, sleeping on the couch while they were all here last weekend, and Buddy, sound asleep atop him. Buddy is a very social dog and wants to be touching someone at all times. Normally, Brandon's good for a petting, but sleep does tend to preclude such things. In this case, Buddy was determined to be close to Brandon even if Brandon wasn't aware of it.

Next, a rare three-fer of Lucy, Lulu and Buddy. It's very hard to get a picture of any one of them and three is magical. In this picture, Bluto is probably trying to get a nap away from the rest of us. (And, yes, those are Mr. Pug's legs on the right. Enjoy the sight of them vertical--after next weeks' knee surgery, you may only see horizontal pictures of those legs for awhile.)

Next, an actual Finished Object. These are Spring Forward from Knitty.com socks out of Trekking yarn. I love the lacey pattern but these socks reminded me that I really hate cuff down socks. Actually, I was fine with them before I learned how to knit socks toe up, but now they just seem like old technology, like playing Pong on an old Atari. I hate kitchenering and I hate having to adjust the instep for the heel height and really ... I just need to make these socks again because I love the pattern but the next pair will definitely be toe-up.

Speaking of finished objects, here are some ... yes, I said SOME ... of the dressed teddy bears donated at this week's Atlanta Knitting Guild meeting. They go to (I think) the Dekalb County police department and are used with kids who've had traumatic experiences of one kind or another. Here are some more.

I never did hear a total number, but I'd guess there were over 200 donated. This has been one of the guild's major charitable efforts for many years and our members (myself excluded) are very creative. Usually it's all I can do to make a simple bear sweater--for some reason I just am not creative enough to figure out how to design around the bear anatomy--but I always enjoy seeing the creativity of others. Good job, guys!

Holiday Knitting--Bah Humbug!

Why is it that I never think about holiday knitting until mid-October, and then it's too late to start? What's the deal with that?

Once again, I'm behind the eight ball, wishing I had time to do something holiday-ish and knowing that I don't.

And the real truth is that I really hate the December holidays, which happen in my particular case, with no disrespect to other ethnic or religious preferences, to be Christmas. I'm okay with Thanksgiving and I actually really like Halloween but ... Christmas ... I really don't like it much.

Oh, I want to, but for me it's just one more occasion to be reminded that you just don't have enough money or time or money or money to meet your family's expectations. And you don't feel merry.... or at least I don't.

But I still believe and I want to like it. So, every year I start to think about how much fun Christmas was when my daughters were small and I think ... maybe this year will be different. Maybe this is the year I'll make everyone a knitted stocking. Maybe this is the year that everyone will get a festive pair of socks or a hat or some mitts. Maybe this is the year I'll feel ready when it's time to start decorating.

Then, on January 2, when Mr. Pug is putting the tree away, I realize ... nah, not this year either.

What got this really unproductive, unhappy thinking started? Well, as usual, it has to be with my incredibly dysfunctional family--my sister Debbie in particular. Does she hate the holidays? No, of course not. She loves them ... and why wouldn't she? She's good at holidays. Her house is always festively decorated, her tree is always perfect (and real!), and she never feels pressed about gifts.

So, this is her fault. Because she's making stockings. And I'm sure they're going to be lovely.

In fact, I know they are because I ordered the patterns too (see above). Aren't they cute? Wouldn't they be cute if someone could actually finish them?

Maybe next year. Along with my little tree of knitted tiny sweaters I've always wanted to make but never have.

Hmmmm....what if I made a tiny sweater each time I knit a pair of socks? Then at the end of the year, I'd have ... tiny sweaters for a tiny tree.

Good plan for next year.

Gorgonzola

Well, Opal doesn't call it that. Opal calls it "Lilly das Schleckermaul." But to me, it looks like nothing more than a big pile of blue cheese. Needless to say, I love it. There's very little in life that couldn't be improved with a little blue cheese. (Wonder if Schleckermaul is German for Gorgonzola?)

You have to love a yarn to tear out an almost-complete sock and reknit it. That's what I did with this sock.

I started it a couple of weeks ago and have had little time to knit on it--even with my trip out of town. But it was progressing nicely and I was loving it.

Of course, the beauty of sockknitting is that you can try it on as you go, making changes and adjustments. And I've had this one on my foot several times and each time I've thought, "well, just like I like them--snug." I like my socks on the snug side because I like to wear clogs and if the sock is loosey-goosey, the clog doesn't fit. And you can forget getting a sock into any of my shoes with a back, like a walking shoe.

Until the time ... I thought, "oh, my...that heel feels really snug." So I switched to a larger (size 2) needle for the cuff and that helped a little.

But reality reared her ugly head and I realized that snug had become ... tight. Boa constrictor tight. My baby toe was squealing wee wee wee, all the way home. This probably means that my blood pressure medicine isn't working (and you might ask how a medicine that costs $40 a month and doesn't have a generic equivalent can NOT be working, but that's a subject for another day). Anyway, I realized that I was going to hate wearing the sock, even if it did look like my favorite smelly cheese.

So, out it came. And here it is again, same size needle (1) but 4 more stitches, 68 instead of 64.

Knitting--definitely not an exact science. Thank God I'm a process knitter.

Disappointed by Love ... Again (or, The Sock Who Loved Me)

I'm the first to admit that I don't always make the best choices where love is concerned. There's a reason that I am still single--or to be more exact, single again, and if you want to be most clear, single again and again. I don't know where the fault lies--with me or with the love object--but I've pretty much come to terms with the fact that love doesn't love me.


So why am I disappointed to realize that once again, I've been deceived, let down, cast aside, and all those other cliches that go with love? And why am I surprised that it's a love that has let me down, etc. before? After all, don't they say that the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results?


Here's a picture of my seducer:



Yes, it's that notorious toy boy, Noro Silk Garden Sock. You can probably tell that by the big knot in the foreground. Probably thousands of knitters have suffered at his hands but somehow I thought I could tame his wild ways and be the one he settled down with. It didn't work out that way. But, oh, it was good at first--it always is.


I saw NSGS across a room at a guild meeting, lying coyly on the Main Street Yarn table in a come hither pose. At first it was his color that attracted me--it always is with the Noro boys. They draw you in with their promise and then ... well, you know the story. But it was my fingers that betrayed me in the end, when I drew them lovingly across his beautiful lime pelt. Unlike the other Noro boys that I've been seduced by, NSGS was surprisingly soft--no hint of the scratchy, VM-laden harshness that leaves their lovers with splinters under the fingernails and an itch that won't quit.


No, NSGS was softer than I expected--the silk in his background, I suppose--and green with a hint of gray or black under the surface. I knew I was lost at that moment. I grabbed him from Ruth and wrote a check. He would be mine, damn it! I had to have him, and I could hardly wait to get him home to my bedroom to have my way with him.


Okay, you're right. Yes, I'd heard all the stories about his older brother, Kureyon Sock. I knew that better women, and some men, had succumbed to Kureyon's promise and been disappointed. After all, when the best that can be said about someone is "it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be--no, really, it was ... fine," you know there are some bitter knitters out there. But I honestly thought that Silk, as I called him for short, would be different with me. I thought ... well, it really doesn't matter now. Let's just say, it didn't work. It's over.


What went wrong? What didn't?


Was it the pilling? The knots? His bipolar nature--thick one minute and then as fine as a spider's web? Or simply his puny yardage? Yes, I'm embarrassed to admit--I'm that shallow. Size DOES matter. And he just doesn't have the yardage I need to be satisfied. In retrospect, though, I think it's the color. I hate to say it in this historic election year, and I don't want you to think less of me, but let's face it...this yarn is more black than anything else. It's BLACK with a few hints of green and some blue still hiding in the skein. So I guess it's the same old story--seduced by Mr. Green, and left holding the sock with Mr. Black.


So, let's review:


First, I have a mostly black sock. It's pilling and I haven't even worn it yet. It's got that odd Noro body type--thick and thin--that means there's no right needle size. I'm using a size 2 and 56 stitches because a larger needle would have made a loose, holey fabric, but I'm dying when I hit those giant blobs of thickness.





Second, I'm only an inch and a half above the ankle and I've already used up 35% of the skein. At this rate, this sock is going to have a 4 inch cuff, max. Stunted, stubby, out of proportion.


And third, did I mention the blackness? Well, grayness if you want to be super-specific, but close enough! It feels like I've been knitting since the last ice age, and it's still black. Oh, yeah, I can see some blue on the skein, but bottom line--the sock is black. Still.


Damn you, Noro Silk Garden Sock! The next time I buy you--and let's face, there will be a next time--I can no more resist you than I could resist that Krispy Kreme bread pudding my boss served for lunch one day--you'll be a diagonal scarf. But wait, I hear you asking: why aren't you just frogging that bad boy and starting a sock with yarn that will be faithful? Well, it's because ... the Blue is Coming, the Blue is Coming. And I can't help but think that maybe this time it will be different. Maybe this time the sock will love me.

Is It Any Wonder I Never Finish Anything?

One of my goals for this weekend is to clean out my car--well, I'm not going to get it all done because the trunk is horrific! But I got a good start and it's been an amazing view into My Life And What's Wrong With It.

Somewhere in the southeast quadrant of my trunk, I saw what appeared to be a project bag--not one of my favorites or I'm sure I'd have missed it long ago. Inside: one almost complete sock, instructions for said sock, yarn for the second sock, two sets of DPNs, and a book.

Anyway, back to the sock. It's gorgeous--how could I have forgotten it? It's obviously Mountain Colors and only needs the toe kitchenered. Then the other sock needs to be knit. All the size 1 and 2 bamboo DPNs are there, unscathed, which is a miracle in itself. More to the point, the pattern, almost pristine except for a few wrinkles in its plastic sleeve, includes all my careful little notes about how I changed the pattern:

The sock is Jeanie Townsend's Cascading Leaves pattern. The yarn is gorgeous, the pattern is there, the needles are with the project. Anyone want to take odds on whether I ever finish this pair of socks?

Ever done an archeological dig? I took a couple of archeological history classes in college and one of the things you learn is that you can date the age of an unknown object by the things around it in the same strata. For instance, a penny with a date on it of 1924 means that the piece of pottery buried next to it probably probably wasn't buried before 1924. Anyway, the book contains a receipt (for sushi at Ru-San's if it matters) dated 1/14/06.

This sock has been sitting in my trunk since January '06. I'm so easily distracted that, in all that time, I've never once thought to myself, "wonder whatever happened to that Mountain Colors sock?" Until today, I'd completely forgotten it.

Oh, my. Wonder what else I'll unearth? Hope Jimmy Hoffa and the Lindbergh baby aren't in there somewhere....

Your Best Friends WILL Tell You

Yup, thank God for friends who will tell me the truth. At least about my knitting.


Just to review, things you want your friends to tell you:

• Wow! Have you lost weight? You look great!
• OMG, your hair looks fabulous--great cut and color. Nope, I don't see any roots at all.
• No, it's not you. It really IS hot in here.
• I'm sure you're going to get a great job, very soon.
• Your husband didn't really mean it when he said you have too much yarn.
• Yes, when you leave him [so you can be alone with your stash], we'll still be here for you.

Things your friends should never say:

• What were you thinking? You already have a lot of yarn.
• I just ran into your husband leaving the Motel 6 with his assistant. Wow! She's really young, isn't she?
• Your dog is so ugly it's almost cute.
• That color [of the garment you just spent a month making] makes you look greenish, and not in a good way.
• Have you thought about wearing a foundation garment to fix that?

Things you'd rather not hear but need to:

• Your gauge is off. That lace thingie is going to be WAY too small. You need to tear it out and start over.

And at least one of my friends did just that. Thanks, Ellen. (As for Pat and Debra, I appreciate your kindness and concern for my delicate self-esteem.)

Now, for the record, I'm out of the lace knitting business temporarily. I'm too stressed and anxious and crazed for lace, which requires at least a modicum of attention and a lot of concentration, not to mention time. I'm deeply envious of the lace my friends are making but I decided I wouldn't put myself in the position of starting a new piece of lace and then not being able to finish it.

BUT ... Bad Cat Summer Sampler. Hmmmm ... not too complex, not too big, several patterns to keep my ADHD mind attentive, clues are somewhat repetitive but pretty. Okay, I can do that one.

First, I broke my own rule and knit a gauge swatch. (Is that the sound of the world coming to an end?) So, sue me, I knit a swatch. Andrea (designer) calls for needle size 1-4, yarn is Lacey Lamb. First, Lacey Lamb is, let's just call a spade a spade, thread. Beautiful soft thread, but definitely thread. Cobweb. But the color--sort of a Jade? Perfect.

So, I'm a little concerned because the swatch is about 3 inches, call it 3.5 stretched, and the designer says the sampler will be 3.4 times the size of the swatch. So, 3.5 X 3.4 = 11.9 inches. I guess I can live with that. It'll be more scarf than shawl but okay. The swatch is on 3s, because I knit tight. Looks fine--okay, try the sampler on 3s. Sampler looks like a big, ugly, mess of loose stitches. Definitely ugly with a capital UG. What will it look like once it's blocked? Poot! Frog.

Cast on again, this time with 1s. By the way, why does this Susan Bates 1 look like a sewing needle compared to my Addi Turbo 1? Whatever happened to consistent needle sizes? But, anyway, it looks okay--great stitch definition. But, unstretched it's 8 inches. And it's so tight I can't imagine how much more it's going to stretch. Pull it to its farthest reaches, and it's about 9.5 inches. Now it's going to be a shawl for an American Girl doll.

Take it to Noble Knitters. Compare it to Ellen's, made of Malabrigo lace. Why am I not using Malabrigo Lace? Am I an idiot? Hers is gorgeous, with beautiful stitch definition, and beautiful on 4s.

Compare it to Pat's, Lacey Lamb on 1s. Normal sized. Beautiful stitch definition, stretches to a normal size. I am an idiot.

Poot! Frog. (Wait, don't frog, it's way too pretty to frog. Save in case I ever want to just fondle it.)

Cast on again, this time on 2s. (Addi this time--those Susan Bates sewing needles are on my list!) All right. Now, we're talking. Somewhat less stitch definition, but stretchable, blockable, you know what I mean. Unstretched it's about 11 inches. I think it can be blocked to about 14 or 15. With a border, it might be wearable. But still more scarf than shawl, especially for a woman of my, er, Juno-esque proportions.

So, thanks for your honesty. But ... this explains why I took a vacation from lace. A lace-cation as it were.

Is It Just My Imagination?

Or is an awful lot of the really creative design and knitting being done now in cyberspace, instead of in paper publications? Now, I'm a dedicated book person who is never going to give up books--I'm hooked on reading and looking at the pictures and using them for reference--but I'm amazed at how much creativity is available in new forms.


Right now, I subscribe to four knitting magazines (Knitter's, Vogue Knitting, Cast-On, Interweave Knits) and one spinning magazine (Spin-Off). (Okay, I know I don't technically know how to spin, but it's like reading Weight Watchers magazine...maybe if I read about it, I won't have to actually count points. Of course, let's look at the record...can't spin, not losing weight. The theory may have a few yarnovers.) I often read Knitting, and sometimes Simply Knitting, both British mags, and occasionally Creative Knitting. That's a lot of knitting magazines!

But ...

I can't tell you the last time I knit something from one of the first three mags. I'm actually embarrassed for the editors sometimes when I look at the patterns. What in the world were they thinking, I say to myself? You can't beat Cast-On for technical information, especially if you, like I, think longingly of completing the Master Knitter Program, but the magazine's patterns usually leave me cold. My current toe-up sock is a variation on Ann Budd's On Your Toes pattern from IK, and I'm actually thinking of making the Jackie Erickson-Schweitzer scarf on the cover of the most recent Spin-Off, so I won't say I don't get inspired reading them. But the reality is that most of the knitting that inspires me is from my computer.

Ravelry. OMG...there are a million young designers publishing on the net in one form or another and most of them are showing their patterns on Ravelry. Who didn't make Kiri, for instance? Or Jaywalker Socks? Romi's Muir? Clapotis? Or Monkey or Ponatomous Socks? (Well, actually I didn't make the last four, but I wanted to, and that should count for something. See note above about counting points.)



In fact, if there's a trend here, I think all those patterns came from Knitty, although I could be wrong about the Jaywalkers. But they're definitely net-based, and were a huge cult project a couple of years. But back to Knitty: Knitty is an incredible resource--I am notoriously NOT a baby stuff knitter but I've got yarn for a couple of recent projects in my stash for the lovely Ruby.

And all the really fun lace knitting right now is happening on the Yahoo knitalongs: Casablanca, Mystery Shawl, the Goddess shawls, the Bad Cat Designs sampler, the Mystic series shawls. All my friends are knitting lace and all those patterns are coming off the internet, most at no cost, but some with a nominal cost. The last two I actually completed were Mystery Stole 3 and Hanami--both from the same designer, Melanie Gibbons. And I have a number of lace patterns in my mental queue, meaning that I've bought or downloaded the patterns but haven't done anything with them yet (see note above about counting points), but in this case I might actually knit them one day. And they're all from the internet: Anne Hanson's Irtfa'a and The Veil of Isis, Luna Moth, Seascape.

So, what's the deal with the traditional publishers? I have the utmost respect for Knitter's because I've been a happy Stitches attendee in years past, but most of the designs in the recent issues seem to come from "the Knitter's Design Team." Where are the designers I want to see? Even the more traditional ones are MIA. VK has always been somewhat "out there," but we read it for the same reason we read Vogue--to see trends. Only IK has made a successful transition to cyberspace, publishing IK Daily and releasing some print patterns to download for a nominal fee. (Frankly, I'd rather pay $5 for a pattern I might actually use than the same $5 for a magazine of stuff that's just laughable.)

Well, here's my theory. First, I think the magazines are so tied to the yarn manufacturers who advertise that they're publishing what the manufacturers want, not what we want. And there's nothing wrong with keeping your advertisers happy--it's just that seeing a truly fugly piece of knitting doesn't make me want to rush out and buy the yarn. And most of the designers doing really innovative work aren't tied to specific yarns or manufacturers. Many of them are using indy yarn or spinning their own. (Hats off to Jackie E-S for that scarf in Spin-Off, called Morning Surf, and hats off to Spin-Off for demonstrating that it looks wonderful, and different, in many different yarns.)

Second, I think most of the magazines are like the monkeys with their hands hands firmly over their eyes, their ears, and their mouths, pretending that Ravelry and internet designs aren't happening. They're hoping that their "loyal" subscribers won't notice either. It all reminds me of the Vonage commercials--the phone company dude saying "the only thing we've changed is our prices," and the young, hip Vonage chick pushing him off the screen.

It reminds me of the other ugly secret: we're buying yarn from the internet, too, and from fiber shows. Now, no one loves her bricks-and-mortar stores better than I, and I am a big supporter of the LYS, but let's face it--we're buying independent yarns from folks who don't sell to the shops. I have a personal rule that says I don't buy something online I could get from a local shop--I'm not about to go online to buy Rowan Kidsilk Haze or Cascade 220--but I'm loving some of the yarns I can't get from them--Miss Babs and Tess, to name two.

I also think that many designers today aren't willing to sign away the rights to their designs--they can see the future and realize that they'll be able to make a lot more money, and get their patterns into the hands of a lot more knitters, by selling their patterns via download than they'll ever realize from the fee they got from the magazine.

We gotta find a happy medium. Because right now, I'm counting pennies and nickels and looking hard at money for magazine renewals. It's nice to have that old issue of Knitter's with the article on short-rowing, but is it worth $5 when I can go to the blogosphere or to YouTube to see 25 videos on short-rowing? I'm definitely considering all the alternatives.

Anyway, I know it's a whine, but just askin'. Ya know what I mean?

Socks and Friends

All right, tell the truth now. Who would NOT be excited about this sock? All right, I get that you're not as personally invested in it as I am, but, speaking purely as a purist and without any biases at all, I have to say I love it. There, I've said it. I love it.


Now, mind you, my friends are getting tired of hearing about the sock. And it's not much of an accomplishment when you get right down to it. But my knitting these days is taking a back seat to other things like working and trying to figure out how to live in these days of ga$ prices and such. And it's so nice to have something work out just the way you hope, using your own combination of patterns and techniques from real experts, the first time. So here's sock #1. Sock #2 is about 3" today--just about where the first one was the last time I showed a photo--so there's no point in showing that.


To Debbie, and no one else will care, woo hoo! I think I'm going to have a nearly identical pair, not by strategy but by accident. Apparently two repeats of Opal Rendez-vous equal (magically) one sock for a big-footed type such as myself. Life is good. Now, I need to put the sock down and do some of the other things I should be doing.


And before my head gets too big, here's what keeps me humble:













This is a small part of Pat's Dem Fischer shawl, made of Zephyr in the Basil shade. It's worn here by new friend Anita--well, she's Whit's friend but I'm adopting her because she's so nice. For the record, Anita is small and Dem Fischer is large so you may not get the whole magnificence thing but then again, maybe you do. And, on the one hand, DF, on the other hand ... one sock. Oh, well. If you want to know what I had to do with this project, well, first, I cheerled (is that the past tense of cheerlead?), and the value of that can't be underestimated. Second, I have NOT stuffed it in my own knitting bag and run off, though I've had several opportunities. So I feel like I have a real stake in the whole thing.





Actually, I'm not above thinking about snatching the shawl, moving to another city, and wearing it, saying in a modest tone, "why, yes, it IS handknit. Why do you ask?" I probably wouldn't actually do it, but I definitely think about it.






And here's a picture of the hill in our back yard, including the fish pond (in the front). We've just stocked the pond again, this time with anonymous fish. Maybe ONE of them will live to to tell the tale. But the hill looks nice, especially given that we're still in drought conditions here and can't water. And I can't take any credit or blame for this--it's all Mr. Pug, with supervision from the dogs.





Finally, speaking of dogs, here's the dog so ridiculous looking that we've almost started to think it's normal. Buddy. Mr. P and I went to PetSmart yesterday and checked out all the dogs for adoption, and they all looked less silly and more doglike and dignified than Buddy, even the beagle mixes and the chihuahua mixes and you get the point. He's absurd. And if you could see him in action, standing on his hind legs and wiggling like a kielbasa with Parkinsons, you'd really wonder if we'd lost our minds. And the answer is probably yes.

Did You KIP?

Well, sort of. I meant to, and I actually got a few stitches in while finishing lunch with a friend (hi, Joyce!), but KIP? Really? Nah.

We meant to. We had good intentions, but you know how those things are. Joyce and I were on our way to KIP with some folks at Cast On Cottage but by the time we got there, the threatened rain had come to pass and we sat in our respective cars for over 20 minutes, KIA'ing. (That would be knitting in our automobiles for those of you who aren't acronym-savvy.)

But what in the heck is the point of Knitting in Public Day anyway? For me, it's sort of pointless. There are very few days that I don't KIP. It's something that many knitters do on a daily basis. That's because knitting is part of our lives, and of course, we do it wherever we are. We don't need a special venue. We knit in the line while we wait at the bank, some of us knit while we wait in traffic, we knit when we finish a meal or wait to be called for our table at a restaurant. I knit in the car today while Mr. Pug and I went for an early breakfast at IHOP to celebrate Father's Day. We do it because we're Knitters.

And when Debra and I went to the Decatur Library on Thursday to hear an author (Jeffrey Deaver!) speak, we knit at the table after dinner, knit through the author's presentation, and then sat quietly and knit after everyone else had left the auditorium. Knitting was the perfect dessert, it helped us pass the time before Mr. Deaver spoke, it helped us concentrate while he spoke, and then it seemed natural to keep knitting while we caught up on our lives at the end of the day.

So Knitting in Public Day, while sort of interesting, always confuses me. It makes knitting something odd or strange, like being a nudist for a day. (Which seemed more interesting to me when there was less of me, and it was less wrinkled.) People do it every day, we just don't see them do it. But knitting's different. Knitting is not an odd pastime, limited to a few weirdos--it's a Part of Life, Normal, Not Strange.

More of us are knitting all the time, or maybe we're just more visible. Sometimes it amazes me that Ravelry has over 130,000 members (139,040 as of today), and in another way, I'm not surprised at all. Many of the people I know (friends, sisters) knit. The Atlanta Knitting Guild has over 325 members. No big deal. And if 130,000+ of us are registered on one social networking site, how many more are knitting in shops or at home or in public and just aren't joiners? You gotta believe there are lots!

And the benefits are huge. I've been knitting since I was 10 or 11 (and we won't discuss how many years that has been!). I've been largely a solitary knitter, originally taught by my grandmother but really mostly self-taught from books and magazines and old tattered Red Heart pamphlets. That means I've learned a lot of things I probably shouldn't have learned over the years. Being around other knitters has helped unlearn some of those things.

Yesterday I attended a mini-workshop put on by the guild. Five of us learned some "tricks of the trade" from one of our much more experienced and more polished knitters (thanks, Jean!), and it was wonderful to sit with friends, knit together, and pick up a tip or two that will make life easier. Here's one of Jean's tips that's so simple you'll wonder why you haven't been doing it all along: When you're doing a series of increases or decreases, count out coilless pins or markers in the same number as the number of decreases. Pin them to another part of your work. When you complete the increase or decrease, add the coilless pin to the increase/decrease place. When you run out of markers, you're done. Now why is that so much simpler than just pulling out one pin after another and counting or marking tics on a piece of paper and then trying to keep track of the paper? I don't know, but it is!

So what am I knitting these days? I'll just start by saying, in a moment of embarrassed honesty, Not Much! I'm in one of those periods when I just don't seem to get much done, knitting or otherwise, and certainly nothing completed. But I do have some things OTN and a few things IMME (In My Mind's Eye) and it's as good a time as any to mention them.

First, I need to say that I've been working away on a pair of socks for a month or so. I love the yarn (J Knits from The Yarn Grove) and have been playing with the whole concept of toe-up socks--trying all the cast-ons and heels and trying to figure out which one I really love. I finally found the right combination for me, I think, though I just got my copy of Lucy Neatby's Cool Socks Warm Feet and she has some good ideas there, too. Anyway, I was working away on Sock #2 when disaster struck, in the form of two dogs that I was dogsitting over Memorial Day. Actually I went to Charlotte to babysit but ended up with two dogs, too. So here's the score: Kids 0, Dogs 2.

So this picture is actually three projects, because when I put what I am now calling the Memorial Day Disaster into my knitting bag, the two destroyed projects actually became entangled with a third project which is now caught up in the whole MDD thing. So, from top to bottom, 1-2/3 socks, now in the process of being detangled and rewound. The red and black thing is a multidirectional scarf which is the Innocent Victim of the group. Finally, at the bottom is a Noro cabled bag. The main part of the bag is complete and the strap is on needles (at the very bottom). I guess that someday I'll go back there and figure it all out, but for today it looks bleak for three projects.

Then, of course, I continue to plug away at my Tess diagonal vest. I love this project but I've just reached the point where I've made all the diamonds the pattern calls for and, oddly, the darned thing doesn't fit around me. Two things--first, I knew that I was knitting the diamonds at a slightly smaller gauge than called for (using 7's instead of 8's), but I liked the fabric much better so I just kept on keeping on. Not the designer's fault. Second, my body seems to be larger than I remembered. Again, can't blame this on anyone but me (and maybe McDonald's). Luckily, it's a modular pattern and I'll just add another row (or two or three) and eventually it'll circle the globe, to coin a rather unfortunate metaphor.

Next, the new Toe-Up Sock of the Day. I seem to be suddenly rather poor, but I couldn't resist this Opal Rendez-Vous from The Yarn Grove. Love those girls! And it's really Jane's fault for bringing the darned stuff to the Noble Knitters group one Wednesday night right after the MDD. I cast on Thursday, sitting with Debra, tore it all back down yesterday after I figured out that 68 stitches was going to be too big (why are my feet normal size and the rest of me so, Not?). So back down to 64 and it's going to fit much better. And I love this yarn!!!!!! It fits with my new focus on green.











So, speaking of green ... Jelly. All of my friends are making really complex shawls. They bring them to knitting gatherings and I'm suitably impressed but can't compete in this arena at the moment. My brain in its current configuration just won't handle this. But this new pattern from Knitty, called Seascape, looked do-able. Of course, it calls for the dreaded Rowan Kid Silk Haze, which I have sworn never to use again, but ... Jelly. 'Nuff said. Jelly. From Cast On Cottage, where a valiant group of knitters sat out in the sunshine yesterday and KIPped, but without Joyce and me. Not OTN, yet.









And, finally, another Knitty pattern, Helena. And the rather sublime, er, Sublime yarn, for the not-yet-met-but-sublime-by-every-report Ruby, my new grandniece. The Sublime, which is machine wash but lay out to dry, seemed to be a reasonable choice for a new mother--sort of a PITA but not entirely. At least it can go in the machine. The Sublime is from Needle Nook.



Finally, a note of another sort. If you're going to put something really cool on your cellphone as music to be heard while the caller is on hold, don't choose "Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday" by the Rolling Stones, just because your new granddaughter's name is Ruby. This just makes the callers a little nuts when they realize that all that is going through their small, empty minds for the next few months is "Goodbye Ruby Tuesday, who could hang a name on you?" (I suppose it's marginally better than "Ruby, Don't Take Your Love to Town" but not by much.) Thanks a lot, Deirdre. And Mick!

Yarn Harlot In the House

Lesson from last September: When the Yarn Harlot's coming to town, ya better get there early. Last year she came on a weekday evening and I hurried from work (yeah, that was when I HAD a work to come from) and stood way, way, way back in the line. This time, Whit was on the job and we were among the first 10 or so folks in line. At some point, some of them snuck into the Ben & Jerry's but we got caught and had to stand outside again.

That turned out to be good news because we stood for 40 or minutes with some wonderful new friends and I got to play security guard at the front of the line. (In the interests of full disclosure, I was way too busy knitting and talking and Debra had to do all the heavy lifting in the security assignment.) We met some girls from Dothan, Alabama (Hi, Donna and friends!) and schmoozed with some old friends as they wandered back and forth.

But it also put us at the front of the line to talk to the intrepid newspaper reporter who came to see the show. Turns out she's a knitter and a customer of Knitch, the store that sponsored the day's events.


We spent about an hour or maybe two knitting--who's counting when you're knitting with friends?--and finally Stephanie showed up, a little the worse for wear after a luggage mishap with the airline. (Note to Stephanie: In a week when three airlines go out of business, be glad you only lost your luggage!) (Note to Delta Airlines: Never come between a knitter and her yarn!)



Yeah, I know that's not much of a picture. This year we were seated higher up and further back which meant we didn't have to twist our necks to see Stephanie, but the photos weren't too great. But the sound carried just fine--if you could hear the one-liners with all the laughing and clapping going on.

And in the midst of the (very) humorous points made, she also had some very interesting research to share about the effects of knitting (and similar repetitive, relaxing activities) on stress levels as well as on cognitive capacity. Seems we're smarter, less stressed, and less likely to be victims of serious memory disorders. That can't be a bad thing!

Thanks for coming, Stephanie. And thanks to Kim at Knitch for the wonderful day (and by the way, thanks for my lovely Alpaca yarn I won in the raffle!) And thanks to Whit and Joyce and Debra and Betty who made the day even more special by sharing their company.

Finally, the article from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution for your reading pleasure is here:
http://www.ajc.com/search/content/living/stories/2008/04/06/knit_0407.html

Yes, I'm Still a Knitter

And a good thing I am. Being a job hunter isn't working out that well, and being a pet owner has definitely been a challenge this month. But knitting is one of those things that I do when things are good and when they're awful.

So what's on the needles? Well, of course, that darned Modern Quilt Wrap is still just about where we left it last...which is to say, no progress since I returned from The Mountain, a month ago. There's no point in taking another picture because, let's face it, no news is ... just no news.

And the EZ Baby Surprise is likewise stymied.

I'm almost at the end and the instructions say, "now add the buttonholes." EZ says to put buttonholes on both sides but that's because she was knitting in a time when we didn't know what gender our babies would be. I know this baby is a girl but I'm so spatially challenged that I can't figure out which side to add them to. So here it sits, waiting for me to get past that point.

As for Hanami, there is progress. I'm finally on Chart F. Once I finish that one, I need to do 2 repeats of Chart G and it's done. It might actually get finished. Whew! I've enjoyed it but now that I'm fairly sure that no one is going to actually wear it, at least in the foreseeable future, it's getting to be somewhat of a slog.

Yes, I know this photo is difficult to see--off-white shawl on beige carpeting is definitely not ideal--but can you see where the number of holes (the falling cherry blossoms) is getting greater toward the end? That part of it is actually pretty exciting.

Finally, I've committed to three items for the January-March sweater challenge for Children in Common and have only completed two, both vests. So I've cast on for a very simple sweater and am hoping to get it in the mail by the 31st--actually, I think I'll probably be finished later tonight or tomorrow. It's a side-to-side design and only one sleeve is missing. (What cannot be seen in this photo is that the color of the sweater (which we'll call Washington Redskins gold for lack of a better reference) exactly matches the gold color in the Knitpicks Harmony needle the sweater is being knit on.)

So how embarrassing is it that I can't seem to finish anything, even the smallest project, and all my friends are just pumping out huge complex lace shawls? Pat and Ellen are in a close competition on at least two knitalongs, both of them amazingly complicated, and both are almost finished. I'm putzing and not getting anything done. Oh, well.

What have I been doing? Well, the job search is still ongoing. I've had several interviews that went (I thought) well, but no job. One position I was interested in has been put on hold, temporarily or permanently--it's not clear. So that one's out. And another one--well, I keep being told that I'm not quite qualified for it. I guess I should read someone's lips on that and give it up. But I continue to press on.

What else? Well, I've been desultorily involved in working on the guild's nominating committee for next year--desultorily because I thought we had a slate of candidates--or most of one--identified. Then something happened and all of a sudden we're back at Square One. Amazing how difficult it is to find folks who want to serve an organization--selflessly--that has served them for almost 23 years.

Speaking of the guild, Janet Szabo came to teach last week. I was signed up for classes but had to cancel because of Lightning's illness. I did get to attend the guild meeting where she spoke and she was wonderful. I went right home and ordered her finishing book (The 'I Hate to Finish Sweaters' Guide to Finishing Sweaters) and her newsletter, Twists and Turns. Even before I read Janet's book on Cables and her book on how to design an Aran sweater, I've been thinking about making another Aran. (The last one I knit left with the ex-husband and that was 21 years ago!) I've got a bee in my bonnet about using Black Water Abbey yarn for it--but before I commit to that cost and project time, I need to finish a lot of other things. But I have to say that Janet was very inspiring. Although I completed three Arans, some 30 years ago, I certainly did not understand the complexity of designing an Aran, including selecting the particular cables to be included, or planning how those cables would behave when they encounter a seam or shaping feature.

I also just finished reading Donna Druchunas' book Arctic Lace, and highly recommend it, It's not really a technique book, like Janet's books, but more of a documentation of the efforts to preserve the musk ox and the old patterns of the Alaska native Americans. The musk ox is the source of quiviut, the incredibly soft, incredibly expensive, fiber made from the downy undercoat, and was at one time in danger of extinction. Likewise, many Alaskan knitters have put down the traditional patterns and their knitting due to pressures to travel long distances to work and support their families. If you're interested in reading more about this subject, go to Donna's website for more details.

Speaking of reading and books, Debra and I went to the Decatur Library this week to hear Mary Kay Andrews, aka Kathy Trocheck. I will be the first to admit that I'm not usually a huge Chick Lit fan (I like Kathy's cozy mysteries more), but MKA's Hissy Fit got to me. And Deep Dish, her newest is fun, too. It's about a Southern cook who wants to move from regional public television (in Atlanta, of course) to a fictional version of the Food Network. She was delightful and Debra and I had a nice evening, catching up over dinner and knitting through MKA's talk and reading.

Tomorrow is the Helmet Liner knitin. I need to finish the CIC sweater so I can cast on for another helmet liner. I have quite a stock of Paton's Merino in neutral colors, which is perfect for these liners. (I also have a bunch of Cascade 220 but using that would require breaking out the swift and winder and I'm pretty sure that isn't happening before tomorrow.)

And that reminds me that Janet Szabo scandalized the guild's members by letting us in on her favorite yarn for knitting cables: Lion Brand Wool. Most of us are pretty ingrained yarn snobs and the thought that the gorgeous sample she passed around had been knit in ... no, don't even say it ... yarn from Michael's ... caused an immediate hushed intake of breath. I thought I felt the earth shake, but it might only have been the collective shudder emanating from the LYSOs in the room. Once we all touched the sweater, however, we had to agree--great cable definition, beautiful sweater, soft yarn. At least she didn't send us all out to buy Red Heart!