Earlier this week, I bought myself something I’ve wanted for a little while. A cycle trainer. It’s not what you think, by “trainer” I don’t mean someone who yells at you about how fast you’re going and tells you to do another 5km, but a frame that holds the back wheel of my bike and turns it into a stationary cycle. I set it up in the kitchen and it sits there, with my bike stuck in it,  and I mean this in every way possible, it is a huge pain in the arse.  (Do you like the way I made it sound like setting it up was no big deal? In reality it was hours, and several phone calls, and advice from Ken and Pato, and about four websites. It has never been clearer that I have no idea what I’m doing.)

it is supremely, horrifically, in the way. I have to step round it to go from my little office behind the kitchen to the rest of the house. I have to squeeze past it every time I want a coffee. It glowers at me as I make meals, or listen to the CBC on the radio, and I can see it from the front door.  I got  it because I’m trying to get a jump on the spring training for the rally.  I’d like to be a little fitter and more ready this year when the outdoor training starts, and starting earlier seemed like the only way to do that – barring heading down to a spinning class or something, which (in the absence of real spinning wheels) seems like exactly my idea of a personal nightmare.  I like to suffer alone.  I put it in the kitchen, because – frankly, the only other room that could hold it was an unused bedroom, and I know myself too well to play that game. I’d be able to ignore it in there.  Here in the kitchen, there’s nothing I can do to make it stop staring at me that way, except ride it, and I’ve made a personal pledge to do so for at least 30 minutes every day that I am home – until it’s warm enough to ride outside.  I’m telling you this so that I’m a little publicly accountable.  Today’s day three, and my my arse is sore, and my legs are sore, and I’ve learned that riding on a trainer is way, way harder than riding outside – which I’m telling myself is good, because it’s more of a workout, but I’m having trouble with my own reasoning there. Here the the thing sits, and today, before I do the kind of spinning I like, I’ll have to do the kind that I don’t. I hope it all pays off in the spring. I have visions of the first training ride, where instead of panting along at the rear of the pack, I sail through – faster and stronger than ever. This is, of course, complete delusion. I’m still going to be a slightly dumpy middle-aged woman who is only ripped in the sense of owning old bike shorts that need mending, but it’s got to help. Right?

Speaking of spinning I do like, I’m just over halfway on the wee project from yesterday.  I’ve split the batt right down the middle, and I’ll spin two singles that each have the same colour progression. (If you’re the sort that’s interested, I’m spinning these long draw. It’s what it wanted, and this is all about process.)

When I ply them together, hopefully I’ll have a two ply yarn where the colours (mostly) match up, and a cool gradient yarn.  If I can finish the singles today, tonight they can rest, and tomorrow – I ply.

I have no idea how many metres I’ll have, or what I’ll cast on after that.  It’s about 100g, and that should give me at least 300m – ideas?

Strung Along April Retreat – Start to Finish

A quick note to let you all know that sign-ups for the Spring Retreat are open. This time we’re doing something a bit different – and we’re so, so excited (and a little nervous) about it. We’ve gotten lots of emails from people wishing that the retreats weren’t all for textile artists who knit AND spin. Apparently many of you don’t spin (yet) but would still like to come to the April Retreat. Well, okay then! Another knitter-only retreat (although there’s a ton that will be valuable for spinners) just because we really are listening. If you’d like to know more about it, click here.  (Also, because I always forget, and it makes Debbi crazy, Strung Along has a Facebook page here. You can “like” it if you want. Debbi LOVES that.)

Yesterday, as I was finishing Sam’s hat (after reclaiming mine) I was thinking that I hadn’t enjoyed knitting it all that much. I didn’t dislike it (how could you not like knitting?) but it wasn’t the ten buckets of fun that knitting usually is – especially when you’re making something someone will love and wants badly.

Sam does, indeed love her new hat, and wore it out this morning, cozy against the windy cold.  (Pattern: Wurm, Yarn: Eco+ in Dark Purple – I think. Needle 3.5 and 4.5mm. Knit as written, except for only doing 8 repeats. We like our Wurms a little less wormy round here.)

After she left, I sat down to have a coffee and a bit of a knit, and pulled out the sweater I’ve had cruising along in the background. (This one.)  It’s going fine, though it’s now just rounds and rounds of stockinette, and I felt that same… something.  I love that yarn, and heaven knows I want the sweater – now, actually, it’s so dismally cold, and usually that’s enough to inspire, but this time, I’m not feeling it. As I was churning along, my thoughts turned to the idea of knitting for product (to get the knitted stuff) and knitting for process – because I love knitting alone.  Usually I’m someone who fails to land firmly in either camp. I knit for both. To get good stuff, and for the pure pleasure of it. I don’t know if I would be arsed to knit if there wasn’t the thrill of a finished thing at the end, and I don’t know that the things alone would be enough to make knitting worth it. (I have a secret theory that liking and needing knitting to be both for product and process spawns the most dedicated knitters – those of us who couldn’t stop if we wanted to, but it’s just an idea.)

It hit me, as I was beavering away that it’s been a little while since something was on my needles for nothing but pleasure. That the last few months have been – what with Christmas and all that, all about the product.  A string of needed, wanted, important things, but still the goal was to end up with the things… not to just be along for the ride. I thought about that some more, as I completed another round, and then I looked around me, saw my spinning wheel, and something gave way.

I’ve been hearing the siren song of my spinning stash for a while – if you can call the smothered gasps of way too much fibre a song. I put down the sweater, went up to the spinning stash, and grabbed the first thing that appealed.

I’m going to spin for a bit. I don’t even know what I’m making, but i know that the minute that whatever sort of yarn this batt becomes, it’s going on my needles moments later. I’m going to think about process, the process of spinning, the process of knitting, and I’ll just see what product I get at the end.

Doesn’t that sound delicious?

(PS. The Batt is from Into the Whirled – though I don’t see any on their website right now.)

Last week it was revealed to me that Sam’s old Wurm hat had departed for greener pastures, and for reasons related to motherhood and that warm feeling* that comes over me when one of my children requests a knitted item, I decided to make her another one. I had the yarn, and it seemed like such a small request.  Just a hat – how long can that take?  Right. I fell for it again.

I have been knitting for 42 years, and I am still trying to figure out what makes a craftsperson of that experience level immune to the truths about a pattern. Wurm is a good pattern. I’ve made a lot of them. It’s a good, non-phallic, warm hat that’s excellent for people with lots of hair, and for the last few years I’ve pounded out at least one every winter. One for me, one for Sam, and one for…  I can’t remember who – maybe my mother… doesn’t matter. The important thing is that not only do I knit a lot and know heaps about how much time it takes, I have knit this specific hat before and am intimately acquainted with the fact that this is a “big” hat. Now, I don’t mean big as in “will fit a large head” I mean that it’s a bit of a trick hat. It’s got more knitting in it than it looks like. The brim is a turned hem, so that’s two layers, and then the alternating strips of purl and knit accordion down and make lots of knitting squish up into a smaller space.

I know this. This will be at least the fourth time that I’ve knit this thing, and recently (in knitter years) at that, and still, on Friday, when I wound the yarn and grabbed my needles, I didn’t think “Wow, this hat is a lot of knitting. I hope I can finish this weekend.”  I swear I thought something along the lines of “Hold on a minute sweetie, give mummy a sec and I’ll have that hat for you.”

Optimism? Delusion?  No way to know, but man, this hat is a lot of knitting and I sure hope I can finish tonight.

* This warm feeling was in direct opposition to my actual feeling, which was that I was freezing, because when she didn’t have a hat, she stole mine.  Sometimes there’s an element of self defence in knitting. 

As much as the winter and I are not soul mates, I have to admit that it has its charms. As a fellow Canadian and I agreed on a plane the other day, winging our way back to the frozen north, away from the charms of a warm place, at the very least, freezing your arse off does feel rather patriotic, whether you can feel your arse or not. (I have not yet technically frozen my arse, although the other day I did notice that I couldn’t quite feel my thighs, which is a little alarming, when you think of it. Those are big body parts.)  There’s other bits too – it can be pretty, when the sky is blue and everything all sparkling, and I can freely admit that there’s no better time and place to be a knitter.  All of our goods are pressed into service, and inquiries are made regularly about the availability of mittens and hats, cowls and scarves.

I’ve been wearing all of them, and none so much the last week as my finished Spectral.  I knit it on the little trip that Joe and I took, and it was the perfect company. Simple enough to work on while I chatted and visited, but still interesting, thanks to the colour changes.

I knit this one (it’s the second I’ve made)  out of Wonderland Yarns in “Mad Hatter” and changed the pattern ever so slightly.  This yarn is a little heavier than what the pattern called for, and had a little less yardage, so I cast on a few less (after a cleverly executed swatch told me what number) and I didn’t divide the yarns as the pattern suggested. It ended up a little narrower than the original, but the same length, which pleased me to no end.

The original has you split up the colours of your gradient, so that it goes dark to light and back again, but I decided just to cast on with one, and move my way through them, light to dark.   I love the result. It’s long enough to go round my neck twice with a double twist in front, and it matches both my coats, and most of my clothes.  I’ve had it on non-stop since I finished.

It’s soft, warm and cozy, and almost makes up for the fact that yesterday Sam stole my best hat, and I haven’t seen it since. The Miss had the audacity to steal it, then text me a picture of her wearing it – which normally would have annoyed me, but now, in the depths of winter? I’m just glad she’s into my knitting.  I’ll make another – and see if I can swap her for it.

(PS. Should I be a little worried that you can’t tell the difference between my hair and the fur on my parka in these shots? I hope it doesn’t mean anything.)

Hello poppets! A quick one from me before another day passes without posting… I’m writing to you from San Francisco. (Well. That’s a lie.  I’m writing to you from the airport in San Francisco where my flight is delayed, and that’s not really like being in San Francisco. Being in San Francisco would be cool, and this, is not.) I’m here changing planes to make my way on home, after a whirlwind trip to teach and speak for two days at the Knitting Guild of the Desert, in Palm Springs.  (What? I was in Palm Springs and I didn’t tell you? Yeah, that’s right. It was a gig for the guild, and if you weren’t a member, well, that was it for you. If that’s not a lesson about joining your local guild, I don’t know what is.)

It was one of the neatest trips I’ve taken in a while, and it proved something that Jen and I have been trying to put into words. We’ve been saying that we think that business trips (she travels a lot too) don’t have to be the way they so usually are.  That it doesn’t have to be that you go to (insert name of cool place here) and do your thing, and then come home and everyone says “Wow! You’re so lucky to have been (insert cool place here)” and we smile and nod and agree, but really, we didn’t go to (insert cool place here) we went to the airport in (insert cool place here) and we go to the hotel in (insert cool place here) and we go to the meeting rooms in (insert cool place here) and when we leave, we know nothing about (insert cool place here) and you all think we’ve been there, and really we’ve just been to another Marriott.

Jen and I have both been trying to fix this for a while, but it’s really hard.  The only reason we’re getting to go (insert cool place here) is because it’s our job, and well, you still have to do your job when you get there, and that’s sort of a pain in the arse if you’re really into sightseeing. This time though, I’ve got it.  The secret? Get up at 4:45am. You can do all sorts of crazy things in the morning, and still do your job.

Palm Springs is one of the most interesting places I’ve been for this weird job in a while.  There were lovely knitters, clever students, the guild president wasn’t just fun, she was an accomplice, and I got to swim in hot springs, visit an oasis, see cactus, find a tiny lizard, stand on the San Andreas Fault and swim OUTSIDE in JANUARY.  (Most of this happened very much before work – and yeah, I was in bed by 8:30 or 9 each night, but who cares.) It was truly a good two days to be in this industry, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude. (That could have been because it was 25, not -25, but you know what? If that coloured my impression of how wonderful those knitters were, that’s fine with me.)

I sent my mum a picture of me swimming OUTSIDE, and maybe a few pictures of a cactus, and a picture (or three) of flowers blooming, and me in a tee shirt, and then she sent me this:

I’m not sure shes actually going to be waiting at the airport.

I did say that I’d have a finished thing for you today, I know that, and it is finished, it truly is. All blocked and the ends woven in, and I’m very happy with it, but it’s too damn dark in the house to take pictures in here, and I can assure you that it’s too damn cold outside to take them there. (With the wind chill, it’s about -30. I’d say we were in the middle of a “polar vortex” but here in Canada we just call it winter.)  I have to go out this evening, and I’ve been trying to come up with a way to avoid it all day.  I keep hoping someone who hates the winter as much as I do will cancel the meeting I’m headed to, but so far it would appear that the heads of the committee are made of sturdier stuff. I’m going to swathe myself in wool and cashmere, and just go.  Speaking of wool, since I don’t have pictures of my latest, can I show you another gift from Christmas?

A wee sweater for my niece Myrie. I’ve made her a lot of gorgeous things since she joined us, but the word on the street before Christmas was that she could use a warm, practical everyday sweater – one to pull on over clothes each day, or wear under her coat, or while she was playing. One that wasn’t so precious it couldn’t get filthy or worn – a sweater for using up.  A while ago I made one for Lou like this, although it fit him for 46 seconds, and that largely defeated the purpose.  I liked the look of it though, and so for Myrie’s sweater I started with the same idea.  (There’s details on how I figured the sweater in this post.) With help from a reader with a baby about the same size (thanks Deborah and Alice!) I started with some Cascade 220 superwash, and some Liberty Wool Worsted, and took off. For the weeks leading up to Christmas, this was my go-to on the go sweater. Simple, and easy, and it went with me to every function.

When I made Lou’s it was all out of the stripy yarn, and I got a little obsessive and weird about it. (Who me? Yeah, nobody saw that coming) With Myrie’s I didn’t even try the striping, because since I’d end up alternating the solid and the stripy, it would be a one way ticket to crazy town, and frankly, in the weeks before Christmas I’m already a few elves short of an effective workshop, if you catch my meaning.  I decided to do the top to the armpits in the stripey, and the body and arms in the solid.

I also decided that there was no way in freakin’ hades that this was going to be too small, or not last her through the long dark tea-time of the soul that is the winter in these parts, so the measurements were generously padded.

Victory was mine.  It was big, but not so big that it didn’t fit with the sleeves turned up, and with the addition of the wee birdie buttons from the stash it was very stylish indeed. (I told her mother that I wasn’t sure it was hip enough so I put a bird on it. She got the joke. Birds make everything hipper. Apparently.)  I’ve had those birds in the stash for years, waiting to fulfill their destiny.  I think they’re very happy on a sweater for our own busy little birdie.

After a whirlwind tour of western Canada, we’re back.  From Edmonton to Vancouver to Winnipeg to home, we’ve had just the best trip.  We got home on Sunday night, but yesterday I was um… really tired from my vacation (how can that be?) and didn’t do much but catch up on work, work on a sweater (I’m permanently cold) eat the last of the gingerbread, and consider changing out of my moose jammies. (I did not.)

Today I’m back up and running, although I just experienced one of those “short days”. Have you ever had one? You get up, make a big to-do list, the whole day of possibility stretches out in front of you, and then you do one thing (I went to the dentist) and whammo. It’s 4:30, getting dark, and the whole day is shot. I swear I had big plans for today, but you’ll have to make do with two more little knitted things that fell off my needles over the past little bit.  (One bigger one too, but it’s blocking.) The trip we just made was to visit our friend Johnny and it didn’t seem at all right to show up empty handed so I did the only logical thing. Johnny lives in Edmonton, it’s winter, and there’s no way that a hat wouldn’t be the right thing. I started knitting him as soon as the Christmas knitting was over, and by the time we arrived in Edmonton, I was ready to affix it to him as he sat in the pub.

Cascade 220 sport, 1.5 skeins of Navy.  Pattern: Lorne’s Hat.

The funny thing is that even though Johhny knows I knit (I’m scarcely seen without needles) when he opened it, it was about 20 minutes before he figured out I’d made it for him.  Dude actually thought I’d bought him a hat. Think about that. Bought a hat. Enough to boggle the mind.  Meanwhile, I had a husband just about ready to buy a hat, if I didn’t figure one out, so onto the needles went the leftovers from his mittens, and decent, plain hat was made – just in time for Winnipeg. (This was great timing. If you’re not familiar with Canadian Geography, I urge you to take a look at the weather page for that fine city, and know that they aren’t experiencing anything out of the ordinary.)  Joe rammed it on his head instantly, so great was the need.

Once safely home though, where a gentleman could (though he would be very cold) go without a hat for a few minutes, Joe confided that he would think it a better hat, a hat that was more “properly a hat” if it had a pompom on top.

I stifled the urge to say anything at all, and made one.  Hat improved, it had a washup- and Joe plunked it on his head this morning before he left.  He was right pleased with that pompom, I tell you, and I could tell by the selfie he texted me this morning, that the sir in question feels the pompom adds a certain Je ne sais quoi, and who am I to argue.

I think he looks great.

Greetings from cold and snowy Edmonton! I know, I know, not everyone’s idea of a brilliant holiday, but it sure is ours. We like the beach just fine, and there’s not a lot wrong with warmth (she says, pulling on her boots to go outside) but this is lovely too.  Joe and I have been out to Elk Island National Park – Joe has a vague life goal of visiting all the national parks in Canada,  and it was beautiful. Absolutely worth the stomping around in the snow.  (For the record, Albertans, can we just put out there that while that place is filthy with bison, there were no elk, and also, it’s not an island. Just saying.)  We got unbelievably lucky, and it wasn’t very cold at all while we were there.  A perfect day to go looking for bison.

Not too much snow either, and we made out fine with boots instead of snowshoes.  We saw the biggest beaver lodges ever, and I saw a coyote, walking along with his winter clothes on and the bison? To be out and about and just see bison? Standing there? Doing what they do? (We could have gotten a lot closer, but that’s stupid. Bison can go from standing still to 50km/hr in a few strides if they want to, and they’re freakin’ huge.  We play on their terms in their home. Slow and easy, and from a nice distance.)

We also went to a rager of a New Year’s Eve rock’n roll party that I swear has left a white streak in my hair that wasn’t there before, and wait! I took a few pictures of another Christmas present I finished this year.  Mittens for Joe.

Warm and cozy, knit out of Briggs and little wool – and roughly based on the Shetland Ladders Mittens from Ultimate Mittens. They’re ridiculously warm and lovely. Now all he needs is a new hat, and I’m on it.

This post comes to you from the airport, because I feel a little guilty leaving without showing you at least some of the things I knit this Christmas.  You were all so good about the stealth knitting over the past little while that I couldn’t wee making you wait any longer. This was the Christmas of the accessory.  I don’t know how it happened, how it got out of control, but it turned out that there was a shortage in the family, and so in addition to the 12 pairs of socks that I turned out in the year leading up to the holiday,  the family was after mittens and hats and no end of bits and pieces.  For assorted daughters and nieces, it was quick pairs of fingerless mitts. (We cannot have clothing that interferes with texting.)  Three pairs (following the first a few weeks ago) quickly came together.

Pattern: Super-bulky Fingerless mitts. Needles: 8mm,  Yarn – Ushya Suya. (I loved that yarn, by the way. Soft and bulky, but not heavy.  Great stuff.)

Sam’s already pressed hers into service.   Next up, I knit my mum a pair of socks – and no sooner had I done it than she announced that what she really needed was mittens and a hat.  I took a deep breath, and bang.  A pair of Cloisoneé mittens:

The cuffs are just her colours. Lime, mustard and wild pink. I had odds and ends of Cascade 220 around for the cuffs, and that’s Galway for the hands, though any of the standard worsted yarns will do.

Mum wanted a hat too, and that was harder. She likes them big, but not too big, and loose, but it shouldn’t fall off, and it shouldn’t squash your hair too much, and it shouldn’t be too phallic.  I searched and searched and searched, and finally settled on a great hat.

It’s Linga, and the yarn was leftover Waterlily from ages ago.

While I was knitting with that yarn I was reminded of how sad it is when great yarns get discontinued.  I miss that one.  That hat used up the very last of it in the stash, though it was a worthy cause, because Mum loves her new hat- the other day when she ran by the house she was wearing it, and she’s not the type to pretend.  If it was on her head, she likes it.

There’s more – but in three minutes they’re calling this flight, and we’re off.   See you tomorrow.

Whew! Today’s a day of rest here at our house, and I hope it is at yours too.  Today – for the first time in nine days, despite illness, fatigue, disaster and general holiday making, we have nowhere to be, and nothing to do- beyond getting ready for another thing tomorrow. Last night’s party at my mum’s went off just as it should, with only one family member failing to attend due to the viral bomb that’s been running through the clan.  I was starting to get tired yesterday, tired of parties, tired of noise, tired of being tired, but rallied last night when all my family and friends were around, and remembered just when I was ready to give up how much I love this group when we have out party on. Megan learned to shuck oysters,

we danced, we sang – we played a rousing game of family DJ (which is really all about impressing my sister, Amanda noted, since Erin is the sole judge of the endeavour- and we don’t think she even is clear on the rules of the game she invented.)

Food was eaten, wine was drunk, jokes were told, and we caught up with friends we see so seldom.  I finished a hat – and that wrapped up all the Christmas knitting, the whole lot of it, and we rolled into bed late, with big smiles, and tired feet.

Today, we rest, and in a very exciting turn of events, Joe and I are packing. We’ve been invited on a little trip, and we’re both so thrilled. I travel (you guys know that) and Joe travels – but both of us mostly for work, and we don’t go together. Once (or twice) a year I take a trip with my mum, and Joe takes one with his, and now and again we travel with assorted parts of the family, but it has been a long time since the two of us (and just the two of us!) left on a trip, and we’re both giddy with the prospect.  Tomorrow morning we’ll head to the airport, and off we’ll go.

I’m so looking forward to it – mostly because I’ve come to think of it as Knit-o-rama. (I’m not sure that’s what Joe has planned) We’ll have the trip, and days of relative quiet, and I, my friends, am going to knit the snot out of it.  This afternoon I’m tidying, and winding yarn, and organizing what I’ll make for the next several days, and it’s like a whole other present.  5 days of knitting! For me! Whatever I want!  I love knitting for Christmas, but man – I  think I like this idea more right now.  Hunting up all my projects is completely delicious. I’ve got one for the plane, and I’m looking for yarn for one for the hotel, and I’m dreaming of finding a pattern for when we’re at dinners, and the urge to put way, way too much wool in my suitcase is overwhelming.

I. Can’t. Wait.