Aka- Rachel, Denny and I go to The Spinning Loft for Sara Lambs cut pile class. (A photo-essay with sort of random captions.)
1. I drove through the city to fetch up Denny and Rachel. I really, really, really don't drive much, partly because I don't need to, and partly because it makes me anxious. Turns out that owning Daniel the GPS has removed some of the anxiety of driving for me. Used to be that I worried about killing people by accident and about getting lost. Now I just worry about killing people by accident.
2. Rachel and Denny were happy to be fetched. (I have no idea why Denny's laughing like that. Probably because Rachel is carrying her luggage. Hard to tell.)
3. It is a 5-6 hour drive. I drove, Rachel navigated and Denny amused herself in a variety of ways. She had a chicken. (I don't know why.)
She used Rachel's headrest as a skein holder.
She made jokes about dysoning a bison. (I think you have to be there for that one.)
4. We got to the US, and the border guard didn't ask us a single question past "What is the purpose of your visit to the US"
This is probably because the answer was "We're going to a cut pile weaving class! We have three looms in the trunk and Sara Lamb is going to teach us how. We spun our own yarns for it and knotted cut pile is how some of the oldest rugs in the world were made. We're making bags though. Have you read The Virgin's Knot ? That's what the girl in the book was doing. Weaving and tying knots. You can do it with a rigid heddle loom, which is really why we can put three looms in the trunk, you know.. other looms are big... anyway .....
It's, um... more interesting than it sounds."
Oddly, waved us right through.
5. We arrived and got to work right away, warping our looms on Friday night, then getting down to the beginning of our weaving on Saturday.
Saturday just about exploded my brain. We learned how to do soumak, twining, the turkish knot--- it was crazy. So many things. So. Many. I wove all day, and at the end all I had was this:
which is way more than it looks like because I did a sample first.
6. The next day we learned cardweaving for the straps, and that, my friends, is frighteningly simple and cool. I had no idea.
7. The only downside of the whole thing is that we trashed Beth's shop.
8. Beth was the loveliest hostess, charming, funny and able, and we all did some serious damage to our wallets. The best score though, was a gift from Beth. In a moment of perfect serendipity, she'd purchased some silk at the SOAR where I didn't make it to the market - and check this out.
Yup. Meant to be mine. To create an even more perfect moment.. .turns out that silk was dyed by... you guessed it.
9. These dolls have nothing to do with anything, except Beth was selling them and I thought they were great.
10. Then we went home. Denny enjoyed a yarnified backseat all the way home,
and I'm 1/3 of the way through my beautiful cut pile.
How was your weekend?
Early in the morning, poking along getting ready to drive south with Denny and Rachel H for a Sara Lamb weaving class that we've been looking forward to for a while. (We're going to learn how to do cut pile weaving like on the cover of her book.) A road trip with the ladies is always fun, and we've spent the last few days gathering up tools that we don't know anything about and putting them in bags to take with us. (I shouldn't say that. Rachel H and I are gathering up things we don't know anything about, Denny is a competent and experienced weaver. She's been helping us figure out what to get.)
We needed 12 dent reeds for our rigid heddle looms, C-clamps and nippers, #10 crochet cotton (Rachel got that. Thank you Mary Maxim) and we needed small amounts of tapestry yarns, though Sara did say we could spin our own. Yesterday I gathered my forces (such as they are. My forces have been all over the place lately) and I looked around for some fibre to spin, but what to do if you need small amounts of several colours? The answer was here.
Tina bought this fleece from Francine at Rovings. It's beautiful. I pulled one handful from each of several different areas...
I carded them,
I spun them...
and now Denny, Rachel H and I have some pretty little yarns to learn to do cut pile weaving with. Denny and Rachel H have been spinning too, so I can't wait to see what grab bag of stuff we'll have to work with. In the meantime, a roadtrip to get there. Rachel and I take turns driving and navigating, and Denny establishes a "Craft Zone" (It's her invention, she gets to name it) with several craft stations in the backseat. Spinning station, knitting station, weaving station - she gets them all set up and rotates through them as we drive.
The most remarkable and stunning thing about "the craft zone" isn't how it looks (and it looks pretty remarkable and stunning) it is that we have never, ever been asked about this at the border. Denny smiles up at the agent from a sea of wool and it's related tools, beams at him or her and they look sort of stunned, check our passports and let us in to the US without a word about the drum carder in the back window. Denny thinks it's because they're impressed. I think they're dazzled.
Craft Zone. It's how we roll.
I am just going to say it. I think it's a problem to be loose, and I mostly mean that to do with knitting (although I sort of think the other kind of loose is wrong too, but really, who am I to tell you how your ethics should run.)
Let's lay it out. This is the fabulous Blackwater Abbey yarn. This is the fabulous book A Fine Fleece. You should get it, it's got lots of awesome stuff in it - I'll be using it a whole lot. That said, it appears that the super-clever and creative author (Lisa Lloyd) and I have a difference of opinion in terms of gauge.
I have some preferences about gauge. I have some facts about gauge too, and those two things together have formed a concrete set of ideas about how I think things should be knit up. I like things to be knit firmly and solidly. I think that sock yarn should be knit up at least 32sts/10cm. I like to see a worsted weight yarn at at least 20sts/10cm. At least.
Garments with a loose gauge:
Knit up with lots of drape and feel softer than they might if it were tight. Knitting loosely is a good way to make garments really flowy. (That might not be a word.)
Take less yarn to knit an item - stitches tightly packed together mean more yarn per inch than stitches spread out.
Knit up more quickly- bigger needles mean the work goes faster. The fewer stitches per inch you are knitting, the fewer stitches you have to knit to accomplish your inches.
Garments with a firm gauge:
Hold their shape better. Fabric with less room to move, moves less. Garments are less likely to "grow" with age, or to bag or sag.
Having less "room" in stitches, means that the stitches tend to look more uniform and tidy.
Last longer. Tightly knit, fibers can't move against each other to cause friction, and are more durable. They pill and show wear less too.
All of these things are true, and can be positive or negative, depending on what you want, but as a general rule, I want more of the things in the firm category than the loose category, and I knit that way. The big sell for me is that if I'm going to put all of that work into a garment, then I want it to last and look great as long as it can. It's not bad if you want other things, that's what personal taste is all about, and there are times when I might choose to knit something loosely, when the fabric it makes suits me and what I want, and conversely, knitting to too firm a gauge can go too far. While I'm yet to find socks I think are too tightly knit, the kevlar-vest gauge of some traditional arans (coughalicestarmorecough) designed to turn wind and rain are a bit much for me and my modern wear. I once swatched for a sweater that was so firm at the called for gauge that I thought for sure the best way to store the resulting sweater would be to simply take it off and stand it in a corner.
When I first looked at A Fine Fleece, I was delighted to see that it was a great match for the yarn that I've got- in fact, Blackwater Abbey worsted is the suggested yarn for two out of the three sweaters I was thinking about - but I was surprised at the suggested gauge. 16 stitches to 10cm/4" for this light worsted yarn? (If you haven't met this yarn, for reference, it's lighter than Cascade 220 or Paton's Classic.) I'm not the sort to decide I don't like something without trying though, so I swatched.
(A quick note about the purl stitches that appear random there: On a swatch I purl stitches to remind me what needles I was using. 5 purls means 5mm needles. That way I don't end up forgetting which is which. It's something I started doing after the 48th time I told myself I would absolutely remember and didn't.)
I did the bottom part of the swatch with 5mm needles (as suggested) and got the suggested gauge. 16sts/10cm. Then I did the top part of the swatch with 4.5mm needles and got something I like better, but is still too loose for my taste. That's 19sts to 10cm. Then I washed the swatch to make sure that the yarn didn't bloom tremendously and change.. but it didn't.
It's hard to tell in the picture how loose these gauges are, so I took this one.
That's a lot of daylight. That's loose. Really loose. The swatch is drapey and soft, but it also moves all over the place, is really stretchy, and I can see that the loose gauge makes my stitches less uniform. I can also tell that the resulting sweater is going to be a lot like that too, and right or wrong, my personal taste says that I'm going to find it less tailored and stable than I like. (The irony that I'm talking about how I like things to be tailored and stable while wearing elastic waist jammie pants and a baggy tee shirt is not lost on me, but there you have me.) Throughout the book, most projects are knit more loosely than I would like them, to varying degrees - There's socks (knit in standard sock weight yarn) at 26sts to 10cm for example, which I know from experience I'm going to walk through pretty fast. None of this is a deal breaker -Lisa has written what is otherwise a perfect book for me, with just about every project being something I'd love to wear... Our tastes only depart in this one area- so I think the thing to do at this point is math. Lots of math. Maybe one of the bigger sizes could be knit at a tighter gauge to suit me? I'll be looking for my calculator to re-jig.
To sum up- I believe Lisa Lloyd may be loose. In the knitting way, you understand. (I hope she takes that the right way.)
This weekend, this
(Fiber Optic Yarns, Pencil Roving, one of a kind colourway, 114g, 70% merino, 30% seacell)
which became this.
(About 165m of a dk weight 2ply yarn.)
(Wellington Fibres, 60% mohair, 40% wool, "Marsh Grass" 215g)
which became this:
(About 360m of a dk weight 2ply yarn that I am pretty sure is a present for Denny.)
(STR lightweight in Happy go lucky)
(Sock Club pattern "Flabella")
which then became this.
(You can't win 'em all.)
After coming in late on the first two months of my self imposed sock club, March roared in like a lion and turned out to have plenty of time in it for socks and they were finished this morning, with time to spare, since (and I feel I must point this out) is the morning of the 19th.
That means that I finished twelve days ahead of schedule - and I even like the socks, which is extra awesome - and in Stephanieland, coming in twelve days ahead cancels out coming in late the other months, since even added together I was less than twelve days late, therefore I'm still early, even on average.
Roger sock pattern from Knitspot, and Numma numma's Toasty sock yarn in Nutella.
These are, like all the socks I'm knitting in the self-imposed sock club, socks that are going into my long-range-planning box, perhaps to ease the strain at Christmas. If all goes well, I should be twelve pairs up by December, and that, my knitterly friends, makes me just about giddy. I've always contributed to that box throughout the year, but not in this sort of a structured way, and I have high hopes that it's going to pay off bigtime. Hugetime. I think that these twelve (theoretical) pairs of socks are going to bring joy and light into my holiday season in a way that makes me feel like laughing out loud right now, even though it's nine months away. (I'm a mother. I've waited nine months for something to pay off before. I don't mind the wait.)
I finished the legwarmers too (they're drying) I've ordered a book to make my next sweater, but it won't arrive until Monday at best, and suddenly I feel at loose ends. I have the whole weekend and I can't decide what to do. I could:
A) Show a little backbone and go back to the Bohus. I let it slip because I'm at the boring stockinette part, but I could just suck it up. I know it won't knit itself, but it's also not going anywhere.
B) Toss in an extra pair of socks.
C) Spin for two days.
D) Something else I didn't think of yet.
Tomorrow Joe's going away with his mum. They've been planning it for a while - off to the US to see the Grand Canyon and visit a relative, and Joe's mum is psyched. (Joe is too - let's be honest.) Her kids - all four of them, travel with her in turns, and this trip has been set in stone for a while. Since they leave in the morning, today they have to provide Homeland Security with "advance travel information" like your passport number and expiry date, and where you'll be while you're in the United States - and Joe being Joe, today was the day that he fetched his passport from his underwear drawer (where all right thinking people keep important documents) and was about to hop on the phone with his mum to give her the information, when he happened to glance at the expiry date of that wee book, and notice, much to his horror, that it was a date in the past.
When he recovered himself sufficiently and regained the power of speech, he called the passport office to see if anything could be done, and they said for him to come right down with all his paperwork, and see what could be sorted for him. They warned him though, that getting a passport renewed on the same day was strictly a mission for "emergencies" and not to get his hopes up. Passport Canada's website advised that the 24 hour service (which really wasn't even fast enough for us) was only available with proof of travel (got it) and that "Passport Canada will take appropriate action on a case-by-case basis." Not too hopeful, since the last time either Joe or I checked, being a moron wasn't really an emergency, but more of a chronic thing.
Down we went, and after the requisite wait, we found ourselves in front of a nice lady at the wicket, and Joe launched into his tale of woe. How his stupid mistake was going to spoil his mum's vacation, how he'd clearly taken leave of his senses, how upset his mum would be, how he really loved his mum and she was nice, how, when she found out he hadn't checked until this morning she was probably going to tell him his was stunned as a bat, and how he would disappoint her, how... how there just had to be a way (not to put it to bluntly) how there had to be a way to keep him, a forty-one year old man, from getting into trouble with his mummy.
The lady didn't even blink. Took the papers, screened Joe's old passport, told Joe they'd do their best and to come back at close of day, one and a half hours later and see what happened.
We left the building, hitting his references on speed-dial to warn them the call would be coming and would they be so kind as to be sure and answer the phone, only to discover that Passport Canada had already called his references- before we were in the car. Joe returned, ninety minutes later, to face the music, and he had already reconciled himself to the idea that it was unlikely that the fact that he was a bonehead was an emergency that could conquer a bureaucracy the size of the Canadian Government, and was already planning what he would say to his mum.
I called minutes later to ask him if he'd gotten it? Was it okay? Did it work? Was it possible- and all Joe said to me on the phone was "Steph, you're not going to believe this. I love this country. Apparently the risk of disappointing your mum IS an emergency. I have a passport."
You could have knocked me over with a feather. I imagined them scurrying around, all the people at the Passport Office, calling the right people, doing all this stuff, all of them saying "Oh, man, we've got to get this done or his mother's going to kill him" and suddenly I figured out why it had worked. Joe's a nice man, and everybody has a mother.
Finishing green legwarmers to start a green sweater out of wonderful Irish wool. Vegetarian Irish Stew on the stove. Soda bread in the oven. Sun shining.
Happy St. Patricks Day!
I'm gone and back to Detroit, and I had a great time. You can say all you like about the place (and I know people do) but I tell you this, the people are the best. I had several experiences that were awesome, and they were all human related. From the friendly, welcoming service everywhere I went, to the knitters and the folks I met every where I went, Detroit's people outshone it's architecture (which is pretty awesome) and it's casino's. (I actually really hate casinos, so I don't think it's hard for me to have anybody outshine that. Poor example.)
Things that were awesome.
1. The Detroit river. All full of ice, with Canada on the other side.
2. This big ex-ferris wheel, where instead of tearing it down, they covered it and turned it into a giant tire. I don't know why I loved it, but I did.
3. The city itself is very pretty, and if you look, there's some wonderfully beautiful things. This is the third floor of the library where I spoke.
3. The knitters.
I'm pretty easy to please, no matter where I go I like the knitters, so I suppose this one was a big of a gimmee. I loved the requisite first sock knitters:
Jennifer, Meg and Lisa, who went over the top and presented a first sweater.
And there was Steven,
who not only knit his first socks, but knit them for me, which was pretty outstandingly touching. (I've had a good look at them too... they're perfect. They look nothing like first socks. Darned good knitting, even though he had to put a rush on them and finished them right there.)
There were babies too, Amy and Moira and Sara and David - who looks so charming in his sleep that I forgive him for not waking up to amuse me.
Juliet knit me a carrot. (Very charming vegetable.)
I got to meet SpillyJane (maker of fine mitten patterns) and Knitterella and French Press knits.
4. Awesome thing the 4th: This is Brenna.
Brenna is notable because she met me in the bathroom and admitted right there that she had successfully defeated the urge to Kinnear me while I was in there. I loved her instantly, for having the urge, for admitting it and most of all... for resisting it. Other people have not been so strong.
5. I got two more washcloths, a St. Patricks day one from Jason (who was wicked on Twitter while I was planning this) and a UP one from Kristine.
(UP is the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I felt good that I knew that.)
6. I left my iphone in a cab, and the unbelievable cabbie picked it up, waited until I called it, answered and drove it to my hotel, then demanded nothing from me but a hug for bringing it. I gave him money anyway, but the point is that he was totally going to do if for no reason other than that he was decent. I loved him.
7. Our lady Presbytera of the comments, who was my faithful native guide, and Alice, who showed up out of nowhere and was a pleasure to see, especially since she shared my love of the Olympics in grand style.
Next time I'm going to Motown. Thanks for being awesome Detroit!
Today I am blogging from the airport, and I'm happily admitting that I'm not even trying not to be random. I'm just going to let it roll.
1. I am going to try and remember to stop and get American money before the Library tomorrow because it's starting to look like the wee marketplace that they're having before the talk is going to be cool. Knitterella says so, and I believe her.
2. Someone emailed me and asked me what Sock Camp was. Sock Camp is a brainchild of Tina over at Blue Moon, and I help her fulfill that vision. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.) Other than that, it sort of defies description. Tina? Can you blog an answer? How about a photographic answer? Anybody who's been there wanna try and describe it? It's camp for grown-ups, with all sorts of fun and and great food- coupled together with serious learning opportunities for knitters who are really excited to learn more about socks in specific, and knitting/dyeing in general. This year I'm teaching all about the elements of socks, swapping and choosing among them, I think Tina's going to help knitters learn about dyeing and show them how to overdye skeins of yarn (great way to fix yarn that needs a little love) Ann Hanson is teaching sock design, Janel Laidman's teaching stranded knitting, Sivia Harding is doing beads, and Cat Bordhi is doing how to invent stitch patterns.
Janel, Cat, Tina and I are teaching at the first session, and Anne, Sivia, Tina and are are teaching at the second one. (That second one is full, but there are still spots in the first one. You should come. You would love it.)
I look forward to camp all year. There's camaraderie, it's in a cool place (Port Ludlow) we do really fun things (scavenger hunt, knitters Jeopardy) we learn more than you can imagine, and we dream and learn big. I can't imagine anyone who wouldn't love it, but I may be projecting on account of I look forward to it all year. Other than at Sock Summit, it's when I feel most cherished as a knitter.
3. I am making really good time on my March socks. The random sock generating system this month picked me Numma Numma's Toasty Yarn in Nutella, and the pattern is Anne Hanson's Roger.
I feel fantastic about my odds of finishing before the month is over and I don't even mind saying that out loud.
4. I am drinking the worst cup of coffee ever.
It is fantastically horrific. As a matter of fact, I have been trying to figure out three things. How it is possible for it to look like coffee when it clearly isn't, how bad does coffee need to be before it's a human rights violation, and why I am actually drinking it instead of trying to figure out how to fix whatever is wrong with the system that's making it so that nobody else needs to suffer like this. The pain should stop with me.
I typed here for a good long time trying not to get random with it, and failed rather miserably. I'm busting a move to get ready to go to Detroit this weekend, and I've just realized that my expectation that I'm going to manage everything on my to-do list is about as crazy as that impulse I get every now and then to start a sweater because I'm cold. Ever get that one? I get cold and then instead of going up to the sweater box and pulling a finished one out, I go stand in the stash like I'm going to be able to knit a sweater fast enough to solve the problem of being chilly right that minute. Magical thinking. In the end, I decided that I am going to be a little random, and there's nothing I can do to prevent it. I have too many things to tell you that have nothing to do with each other.
1. After perusing around for appropriate prizes, I used a random number generator to choose three names from among all those who emailed me, the first takes Gold:
A beautiful skein of handpainted cashmere from Handmaiden, here in Canada, which I'll bundle together with a signed copy of Free-Range Knitter: The Yarn Harlot Writes Again (which is really my old book, now out in paperback, which is sort of cool since I never had a book come out in both hardcover and paperback before. It's not in the store yet, I have some advance copies.) and be mailing off to Lexyjane, who didn't finish her Olympic project due to an injury, but typified the Olympic spirit by dong her level best.
A signed copy of the book along with this skein of yarn, which is the new STR colourway for the Knitting Olympics called "going for gold", goes out to Lynn W. (Chalicewitch).
No picture, but Karen M will be telling me her favourite colour and getting a surprise along with the book, I hope she likes it.
A thousand thanks to the almost 2000 knitters who sent an email. You guys are what makes it fun.
2. The sweater I started may be terminally ill. I'm considering taking it in to knit night tonight and seeing if anyone else feels the love. Could be they'll get a boatload of yarn to go home with. I must have been drunk when I bought this. It's beautiful yarn, but it's not me, and this is my second attempt to love it without any success at all. Sometimes it's a good idea to let it go before the resentment builds and you end up in a dishonest relationship with yarn.
3. Sadly, due to an absolutely unavoidable crappy thing, Anna Zilboorg won't be able to join us to teach at session one of Sock Camp this year. This is pretty much heartbreaking to me because she's - well. She's Anna Zilboorg. Let's just leave it there. Happily, the planet has provided a silver lining, which is that the inestimably fabulous Janel Laidman is going to come teach stranded colourwork for socks instead, and that's pretty darned far beyond awesome. There's a few spots left if you think so too. (I think session two might be full.) I'm looking forward to it in a way that's both unreasonable and unhealthy, but hey. That's sock camp.
4. I totally did finish my February self-imposed-sock-club kit, and even managed to do so before it was too far out of February. (March 3rd.) This month a drew a baggie containing STR lightweight in Jubilation, and a pattern that I've loved for a long time, the Feather and Fan socks from Socks Socks Socks .
Over the years I've knit this pattern at least five times, and it never disappoints. (Except that I change the heel a bit. I've got a thing. I like 'em a certain way.)
That's two months, two pairs of socks, and the goal to have an even dozen at the end of the year doesn't seem all that crazypants.
5. I bet you thought I didn't do the February socks because of the Olympics.
7. That would have had more emphasis if I had finished them in February, I know.
1. I infuriated my cat with a trip to the vet. She's fine. I have 3rd degree scratches
and the vague feeling I should watch my back. That's cat rage.
2. David created a podium page here. Once you submit your email address, Franklin's gold medal icon will show up by your name on the Athletes page. I did me. It was very satisfying.
3. I have started and rejected a sweater. I'm not ready to talk about it. It sucks.
4. I am making my sister legwarmers. She said she wanted them, but she didn't say she wanted these.
Sydney. by Stacyjoy Elkin. I like them. I hope Erin does. Speak now or forever wear legwarmers you hate, because I will expect you to wear them.
5. Prizes for Knitting Olympics tomorrow. Promise.
In the comments yesterday, Dawn asked this question:
You've made several sweaters in the last couple of years, which ones do you find yourself reaching for the most? Which are your favorites?
In the last few years I've knit a several sweaters, maybe 7 or 8, but only a handful of them have stayed with me. A few were gifts, a few went off to be worn by others when they suited them better (coughRachelHcough) and a few have become good friends that I've worn to death. I love the Must Have Cardi and it's turned out to be one that I wear not quite everyday, but a few times a week. (I've learned that if I love them when I finish, that the glow usually lingers for a while.) I wear my Guld Bohus, I wear a bunch of them, but absolutely unequivocally, my all time ultimate favorite sweater is my Top Down Wrap Cardi from Knitting Pure and Simple. I went looking through the blog to try and find it, and it turns out that for reasons that I can't explain, I only ever took one picture of it, and it was this one:
I took it in the Seattle airport in June of 2007, which is pretty craptastic for a sweater that I love as much as it turns out that I do. This sweater has been my best buddy for two and a half years. I knit it out of Dream in Color Classy in Strange Harvest, and in the intervening time, not only have I jammed it in suitcases, sat on it in on planes, used it as a pillow on trains, wrapped a cold baby in it (twice, and two different babies) I've also washed it by hand at least 20 times, and in the washing machine at least 10 times (gently) on purpose and had it land in the dryer 3 times (not at all on purpose) courtesy of my husband who generally displays good sense and intelligence, but seems to have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to laundry.
I've spilled coffee on it. I've slept in it. I've yanked it around myself against a chill and worn it for days on end with the sleeves rolled up so that I can wash dishes or type. I hang it over the back of chairs, I leave it in a crumpled heap.
In short, I love it, and it has served me well. This is my go-to, grab and run sweater. If I'm leaving the house and need another layer, I put it on when I get up in the morning when the house is still cold.
It was the sweater that was handy when I went out the door to the hospital in an emergency, I've dried innumerable tears on the sleeve, and it is the sweater that I put over a tee shirt and jeans if I want to "dress up an outfit". (I know. My sense of fashion is devastating.. isn't it?)
I believe this sweater fits me fantastically (not that it really has a fit, but you know what I mean) and it's all the best things about a sweater. It's cozy, it's pretty, it's durable, it matches everything in my wardrobe (though maybe not yours, I do specialize in wearing clothing all the colours of 70's appliances.) and when I wear it, no matter where or when I wear it, I feel taller and rather thin.
I think that probably hundreds of you have seen me wear it in person. I wear it that much.
I've used it as an emergency rag when a cup of spilled juice was headed for my laptop, I've waved it for emphasis during some rant or other directed at a teenager. I've even used it as a potholder once, carrying a hot casserole to the table. (That was a snap decision, and probably disrespectful to the sweater.) As a matter of fact, the only thing I've never done with this sweater is tie it shut (not even once) and it still looks... for a sweater that's been well used and loved for two and a half years.. like a million bucks, I think.
There you have it. The sweater that is my favourite. The sweater I'm wearing now. The sweater that all of a sudden, I'm thinking about knitting again, maybe tomorrow. (Maybe in another colour.)
Thanks for asking Dawn.
(Typing "done" three times made it look like it was spelled wrong. So wrong I had to check. I hate that.)
On Sunday morning, the last day of the Winter Olympics, I woke up with a tremendous sense of doom. While I'd already come to grips with the idea that I might not make it, and that there's no particular shame it biting off more than you can chew, I'd also come to understand that I wouldn't like that at all. I like meeting my goals. It feels good, and I was determined that if I wasn't going to finish that sweater, that there was no chance... none at all, that I wasn't going down fighting. I got up and surveyed the sweater parts, and tried to figure out a plan of attack. At 9:00 on Sunday morning, I had most sweater parts, but they were not a sweater. I had to finish one sleeve, I had to steam them (no time for a proper watery bath), measure, sew and cut the steeks, sew up the shoulders, set in the sleeves, sew down the facings, sew the hems on the sleeves, sew down the hem on the body, pick up and knit the neckband, and then sew down that same neckband. Since this was barely possible, first I made a lot of coffee.
10:57am. Finished the second sleeve. Did smallish dance of victory, then remembered that I was still screwed. Drank more coffee, and set about steeking.
10:58am. Looked at the stinking sweater parts and realized that I had neglected to sew in any ends anywhere on a fussy 4 colour sweater. Turned the bits inside out to see how bad things were. Decided it would only take 10 minutes. Drank more coffee.
12:00: Finished weaving in ends. Felt wave of deep regret that after 36 years of knitting experience I am still so completely optimistic delusional about knitting that I thought that weaving in ends would only take 10 minutes when it took an hour.
12:02: Decided to berate self for timing errors another day since there was no time for it now.
12:03: Began steeking process. Measured sleeve to see how big to cut opening in sweater.
12:04: Measured again. Cutting a big gash in a sweater is a one-way move, and one should be very careful before fetching the scissors and doing something rash.
12:05: Measured other sleeve to see if they were the same for the same reason as at 12:04.
12:06: Marked opening after re-measuring.
12:07: Started again after deciding that maybe I measured wrong even though everything looked totally fine.
12:09: Re-steamed the sleeve in case the first steaming wasn't good enough and maybe I didn't have the measurements right.
12:13: Re-measured. Got the same measurement as the other six times. Wondered if maybe I was starting to get obsessive and weird.
12:14. Asked Joe to measure sleeves- just to be sure.
12:16: Endured marital spat with Joe when he refused (wisely) to get on the "crazy sweater train" and took his advice to maybe cut back on the coffee and get a grip.
12:24: Sat for a while. Contemplated switch from coffee to beer.
12:26: Decided that both beer and coffee could influence accuracy.
12:28: Sewed the steeks.
12:35 Wondered if the sleeve steeks were really the right size.
12:36: Re-measured before cutting.
12:40: Took a deep breath and cut the sleeve openings.
Here I always pause and marvel that you can actually do this, and it works. Need an armhole? JUST CUT ONE. Crazyville.
12:45: Sewed up the shoulders.
1:00: Unpicked shoulders after realizing that I hadn't done a very good job because I was rushing. While I unpicked them I gave myself a really wicked talking to. Title: This sweater was too much work to be a piece of crap. There's no point in finishing and still not getting a sweater you like. Buck up buttercup. Focus. Sewed shoulders up nicely.
1:10: Ripped up house like a lunatic because I have probably 193856 pins in this place and there is no way that I can't find any of them. Gave speech to Joe and cat about how people are always touching my stuff and that's why I can't find it and I don't mess with their stuff so why are they always messing with mine and that's what's wrong with this family is that nobody cares about me or my pins I just do laundry and LOOK FOR MY PINS THAT YOU ALL TOUCH.
1:15. Located pins in sewing box where they were all the time. Apologized to Joe and cat. Commenced sewing in sleeves. Poured remainder of coffee down sink.
2:11. Finished sewing in sleeves and started to sew facings over cut edges of steeks. Made more coffee.
3:11, Sucess is mine. Began picking up stitches for the neckband and put on the hockey game. All seems well. I have until about 8:30 to finish. I should be able to nail a neckband in that amount of time as long as I stay on my game.
3:15 until 6:00. I'm not sure what I did in here. I thought I was knitting, but all I can confirm in the end is that I held my knitting the whole time, but when the hockey game was over and Canada had achieved total world hockey domination (both women's and men's gold, eh?) I had apparently only knit three rounds.
6:02, Try to set priorities. I have to leave for the pub at 7. Knit or bathe?
6:05. Bathe. Poor hygiene never helped anyone. While I'm in the tub I try to remind myself that I'm probably not going to finish anyway, and that while failing might be inevitable, I can at least control how I smell and look while I fail.
6:30. Take precious knitting time to find "Canada" shirt to wear to pub. (Still feel good about this choice.)
7:00 Joe drives me to the pub, and I knit like a demon the whole way, regretting deeply that I've let the whole thing come down to black ribbing in a darkened car. Poor planning. If it was white ribbing I might have stood a chance.
7:05. Search knitting bag for white yarn in case I actually could make the ribbing white. Fail.
7:25. Arrive at pub and find some happy knitters celebrating their gold. Denny finished Dale of Norway's "Vancouver" (And Amy is wearing the right gear)
Megan is finished (even though it's a terrible picture, the shawl is beautiful)
Team Canada shirts are everywhere...
and just so that I don't feel alone.. Natalie is still trying to sprint to the finish.
You will note that Natalie (who did totally finish in time) has had the presence of mind to bring a headlamp to the pub so she can see what she's doing. Brilliant. When it comes down to the wire like that it's all about the equipment.
I started knitting like a fool at that point, as the Closing ceremonies started. Natalie finished with the headlamp and Amy and Denny took turns shining it on my work so I could see to cast off, and with only moments to spare -
I finished. It was really, really close. Really. A lot. If a couple of the speeches had gone a little short, or if I'd chosen to eat dinner instead of apply that time to knitting, there's no way I would have made it. (I actually blame the overtime in the hockey game, but it's hard to not love everything about that game so I'm letting it go.) In the end though, I have a sweater. I love it. I got gold, and I'm thrilled. Joe and I took the sweater for a walk yesterday, out into the great Canadian outdoors, where it belongs.
Pattern: Whistler, from Dale of Norway.
Modifications: only two. I took out the placket and zip on the front, because I like a straight up pullover, and I changed the yellow that was in the pattern to bronze.
Yarn: Heilo. Also Dale of Norway.
Needles, sizes 2.5mm, 3mm and 3.5mm.
I love it. I really do, and I'm also so glad it's finished. Big project. Feels good.
1. If you were a participant listed on the Athletes page, you are eligible to be entered in the draw for a prize, even if you didn't finish. Trying is the only thing you need to have done.
2. To enter, send an email to goldATyarnharlotDOTca (changing the AT and DOT to the appropriate symbols, of course.)
3. You'll get back an auto-respond that lets you know you're entered, and has a link to a cool pdf for knitters who took gold. (You can thank Franklin for the certificate.)
4. The auto-respond thingie only works when my mail is open here at home, so if you don't get one right away - don't panic and send another one. Wait a day. Then check your spam filter (the email will come from the same address) before you try again, okay?
5. I'll keep that up and running until Monday, then draw for a prize.
6. No. I'm not telling what the prize is. It's not a car or a million dollars though, so don't get weird on me.
7. I keep forgetting to tell you that I'll be in Detroit at the Public Library on Saturday March 13th at 1:00. They're having a little yarn marketplace first and everything. See if you can come, it's going to be fun.
8. I also wanted to answer Elyse from the comments. She asks:
Did any one watch the mens curling - final game Norway - Canada - and see
the lady with the double points and what looked like a childs sweater -
seated right in front of Steven Harper?
See it? I got so excited that I took a picture of the TV.
The ladies in red are the Womens Silver medal curling team, the man to the left is Stephen Harper, the Prime Minister of Canada, and right there in front? KNITTER!
It's something on double points, but maybe we'll never know what, or who she is.. does anyone know this Knitter? Whoever she is, way to represent lady. Knitters. We're everywhere.
The Olympics ended last night, both Knitting and real, and I for one was sad to see them go. It's been a hell of a party, especially, I think - if you had the privilege of being Canadian. Everyone I know here at home has had the best time seeing the world come to Canada and see our fine country the way that we do. We are very proud of this wonderful country, if usually a little quiet about that, and watching the wave of happiness that swept the nation as Canadians threw the biggest house party ever has left even the most staid of us slapping on the maple leaf and cheering in a way that suddenly felt very Canadian, even if it usually isn't. We were rewarded too, with houseguests that seemed to love the fine city of Vancouver and all the people in it, and partied on in a way that was so sportsmanlike and kind. Every country wins some and loses some- but as a citizen here, it was spectacular to watch Canada show off what being the true north can mean.. that the upside of freezing your arse off most of the year also can mean that you garner more gold medals than ever before... more even than any country before, and the icing on the cake was the spectacular hockey game last night when we took on our neighbours to the south and barely beat them... because a gold medal means more when you've got a really talented opponent who's really hard to beat. It was a great Olympics to be Canadian... and it was a really great Knitting Olympics to be Canadian. Yesterday I had to haul flat out to finish, but finish I did, and I'm really rather proud of myself. (I'll tell the story tomorrow.)
I was worried, at several points in this Olympiad, that I wasn't going to finish, and I really dealt with my feelings about that. I wasn't going to like it, but the idea was for the Knitting Olympics to be a personal challenge, and if there wasn't a chance that I couldn't do it, then it wouldn't be a challenge, and win or lose, I was going to be proud of myself for taking it on.
It's not really important, finishing a sweater in 17 days. Not really. Nobody lives or dies because I met a personal challenge, and if you didn't finish, you should rest assured that it's unlikely to hold you back in your life in any meaningful way... Trying and failing really isn't a setback. Not any more than going to the Olympics and coming in 5th place - or 23rd. If you tried and failed, well good for you. I think you're awesome and that trying is way better than finishing a sweater in 17 days (which isn't exactly a life skill.) If was easy, then it wasn't a challenge, and if you truly set a challenge and didn't meet it- then I bet you know why, and knowing something more about yourself (even if it's that you have a completely unreasonable knitting ego) is pretty great and can only serve you. I really think that. I'm proud of everyone who gave it a shot and fell short, whether you finished or not you are now the sort of person who tries a challenge. I think (and I'm not just saying this because I'm that sort of person) that people who sign up for life have a way better ride.
If you took on the challenge and you succeeded, congratulations, I bet some of you didn't know if you could do it or not, and I bet you surprised yourself in the best way possible. The esteemed Mr. Franklin Habit has once again made us a beautiful gold medal, and once again, it has a vaguely naked man on it which was frankly, more than I had hoped for. He's even made two sizes.. so you can use it for all your purposes.
Take it, use it (please, please, please save it to your own server and don't hotlink) and put it on anything (or anyone) you want. The image is Franklin's property and he says the following "I made this medal at your invitation for everyone to enjoy, to celebrate their accomplishments. They should feel free to use the downloadable versions to their hearts' content. I only ask that the image not be used to prepare items for sale." Should you feel the need, Franklin's also whacked the image on a bunch of stuff in his Cafepress shop.
Tomorrow I'll be giving you an email address that you can send your name to so that you can be entered for a prize and a certificate, I'm just wrestling an auto-respond thingie to the ground first. (That's something I learned from the last Knitting Olympics challenge. 4000 knitters is a lot of email.) Stand by. In the meantime, maybe get a cup of tea and sit yourself down, and click through to the athlete's page. This list of Athletes shows everyone who took part in the Knitting Olympics, and if they have a blog, you can click on their name and go have a look. There's some great stories there. While you're there, if you'd like to thank David for hosting that page and help him cover his bandwidth costs (again, 4055 knitters is a lot of knitters) he's got a little tip jar at the bottom of the page that he didn't even tell anybody about, that's how classy he is. (Sorry David, had to point it out. Thanks for your help buddy.)
Thanks to all of you, even the knitters who just watched and participated that way. A personal knitting challenge is both noble and dorky, and it's easier not to go it alone. I'm grateful for the sense of community, and not just because I didn't want to be the only dork doing it. It was a great Olympics, both knitterly and not. I had a wonderful time. Thanks for playing.