Monday, February 13, 2017
Friday, February 10, 2017
Hilde. She has such a beautiful, bright sense of color, and had arranged the yarns in a specific way in the box, with warm colors on one side and cool colors on the other, with each color kind of related to its corresponding neighbor, which I thought was so perfect and so interesting, and so very Hilde. Fibertrek podcast, and was pretty pleased to see the end of that part of the project. The ends left me with a fistful of yarn snippets big enough to inspire yet more projects. I'll probably leave them outside for the birds--I love the idea of maybe someday finding a fallen nest, or coming upon one tucked into the hedge, that has a few of these yarn bits whimsically woven into it. There have been so many birds in our yard lately, I don't remember ever seeing so many. One of them will certainly appreciate all this soft yarn in such vivid colors as much as I have.
Thank you, Hilde. Spring is coming.
Tuesday, February 7, 2017
Instagram, you'll have seen this already, but the story is this: at the end of last year, Doc's sister J, who is a knitter and a stitcher, asked me to join her in a yearlong creative project. We'd hound each other regularly to make things, and to finish things, and to think outside the usual boxes, and to Get It Done. To not just talk about making, but to do it, and to explore ideas. She set the first challenge--"What are your intentions for the year?" So I made this. This little stitched piece, just 6" square--No. 1: Intentions--is what manifested from me thinking about all those things. It is aspirational. I plan to be brave and curious, and to do things besides just knit all the time. We'll see what happens! Let's go.
Monday, January 30, 2017
Monday, January 23, 2017
Lisbon pullover (bottom-up construction and stitch counts) and Ryrau (colorwork chart, which I modified). This is my fourth and final attempt at using my stash of Brooklyn Tweed Shelter, in the wonderfully golden "Hayloft", and I promised myself that if this sweater didn't work out, I would throw it to the wolves and be done with it, so it is happy thing indeed that I am pleased with the results here. Cramming the 34-stitch pattern repeat for the Ryrau chart into the stitch counts required for the yoke of the Lisbon pattern required me to finagle a little and simplify the original chart, and there was some self-congratulatory fist pumping when the math worked. So what is that, four finished sweaters for 2017, and we are three weeks into January? Yikes. I am knitting too much, and my wrists are in trouble, so there will be a week or so of me sitting here in the evenings wondering what these strange empty things at the ends of my arms are for. I'll sit down in front of the Netflix machine and, what, just watch?
Monday, January 16, 2017
Karen working on one of these, I resisted as long as I could (so many other things on the project table) and then I cast on. There is almost nothing better in my life than long stretches of stockinette stitch, with a color change every twenty rows to keep it interesting. You guys, this is what to do when you're stuck in line, a waiting room, a long road trip. I don't know how people who don't knit can stand a long road trip! Before knitting happened to me, all I did in a car was sleep, and then arrive at the distant destination with nap breath and bed hair, but so well rested, just as everyone else was collapsing into bed. I still fall asleep a little bit, but mostly there is knitting, and then I feel like I have something to show for all that sitting in one place all day long. Isabell Kraemer didn't use it so often in her lovely designs, I doubt I would ever have given this yarn a second look. It looks and feels like twine, and the knitted fabric initially looks pretty awful, and you can't help thinking the Holst people must not know what the word "soft" means, but hoo! All votes of confidence are right on, because after a bath and a block--dry in four hours!--it is utterly transformed. It blooms and relaxes and fluffs up into a beautifully wooly and light and (mostly) soft fabric, and I wore it all day yesterday, next to my skin, and it was nice. It isn't Woolfolk (sob, is anything?) but it was perfectly lovely. Also, in that photo up there, see that loop? That is a stitch I dropped on the FIRST ROW, and which I did not notice until I was picking up to knit the neckband, the very last thing I do before blocking. It did not drop down even one row, not in the whole time I was flinging this in and out of a bag, dragging it around the house, hauling it across the country and back, pulling it out from underneath the sleeping Catdog, picking up and knitting one sleeve and then the other, trying it on the dummy to check for fit, and sewing up the sleeve seams. It just sat there, patiently waiting for me to find it.