Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Plans

Hey you guys, I am going to Rhinebeck this year.  It is happening!  I feel like an eight-year old getting ready for her first trip to Disneyland.  The wall-to-wall woolly-ness.  The leaves and the cider and the like-minded people all around.  Oh, sigh!  Lovely.  The first thing to figure out is:  what on earth to wear?  Rhinebeck is where yarn lovers let their mad skills out and let their freak flags fly, and I thought this would make all my current mostly-stockinette projects fall by the wayside so I could plan some kind of epic garment--there has been a LOT (more than usual, even) of trawling through patterns, but I am as yet undecided.  Anything I make specifically for that occasion still has to fit into the regular wardrobe when I get home, and that makes a delicate balancing act.  I love the idea of starting something special.  I think I will enjoy the lengthy search through pattern options, and if the search turns up nothing that really wants to be my Rhinebeck Sweater, I'll just wear something from the shelf in the closet and be happy.  I do have these to show you, little mitts I made while the weather was too warm to be worrying about cold hands, but they will be just right in October.  These were designed by me, using up some scraps--the two main colors are Dream in Color Classy, in a discontinued colorway, some kind of antique gold [here are their current colorways, lock up your credit card before you click that link, whoo] and the ubiquitous Patons Classic Worsted in Lemongrass.  The contrast colors are all from the leftovers basket--I think the pink is from my experiments in dyeing with avocado pits.  I thought about going on ahead and making them into mittens, and once October is over and winter sets in hard and there is no place in my life for naked fingertips, I might do that, just pull out the bind off at the top of the hand and thumb, and do some decreases until the fingers are covered.  Meanwhile, though, I like them this way.  By the way, the main stitch pattern is from this book, and the contrast color band is something I just improvised.  
Maybe instead of a whole sweater just for Rhinebeck, I'll wear a ton of accessories, like these?  A hat, a cowl, interesting socks.  Less commitment.  Especially since, what with Doc as always coming along for the ride, and as always planning to be kilted up and looking fine, he will be needing a new sweater.  
A Rhinebeck Sweater for Doc.  Coming up soon. 

Monday, August 7, 2017

Stormy Weather

Catdog reclines in an elusive patch of sunlight.  She'd rather be outdoors, but it is already raining again.  I have a finished cardigan to show you--Mazzy, by Elizabeth Smith--which I've worn all day today and I love it, but it has turned gray and gloomy and there is not a ray of light to be found.  This cardigan is pretty great though, in spite of a huge chunk of mistakes (made by me when things on Orphan Black got really compelling--no spoilers, I'm only on Season Three) in the cables at the back of the collar:
Keeping it real.  There are at least twelve individual mistakes in that photo, but Donnie was in the car with Dr. Leekie, and my attention was not on the cabling.  Orphan Black!  I am in the grips of that show.  If you're current on happenings in recent episodes, please don't tell me.  
Anyway, Mazzy is going to be a great layering piece for fall and winter.  And apparently for right now, too.  I used KnitPicks Wool of the Andes Tweed in Wellies Heather, and there are just enough flecks in it to disguise the incredible quantities of dog hair that cling to me everywhere I go.  Dogs are great.  Dogs are the best.  
 

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Re-folded

My friend Al and I were talking about linen the other day.  I want to make shirts, pants, dresses--okay, everything--out of linen right now.  Curtains.  Sheets.  Lacy petticoats.  What else is there?  Linen is so great.  Soft, always getting softer, and covered in wrinkles, but the very best kind of wrinkles, the kind that make you look like you've spent the day yachting with the Kennedys.  After the Esme dress I made last summer clung like crazy to everything and I finally ditched it in sad desperation, you all advised me about linen, and you were right.  Anyway, Al had this piece of nubbly, natural, untreated and homespun-looking linen in his stash, leftover from some kind of breadmaking endeavor, and he gave it to me.  I made a Kiomi top (from Lotta Jansdotter's book "Everyday Style") and I'm hoping there is enough summer left to wear it.  
As many of you will already know, the master pattern sheets in that (gorgeous and inspiring) book are a special hell to decipher, but once you have identified and located, traced and cut the pattern pieces out, whew, you are through the worst of it and the sewing is easy peasy.  I think this simple little shirt is going to be a really useful wardrobe piece for me, especially in a regular, real summer year, where it is hot for many days.  You know, summer, instead of whatever this is.  
I was about to fall asleep last night when suddenly, the specter of my sorta-finished Folded drifted malevolently into my mind, making me feel guilty and unsettled, and I realized that if I expect to wear this anytime at all, and certainly before approximately a year from now, I'd better get in there and fix it.  This thing was done, blocked, and sitting on the shelf in the closet, awaiting a public outing, and it sat there for a long time, unworn, before I finally admitted to myself that it was too short, and also a little too narrow at the bottom hem for my personal taste.  Which was a little bit of a pain, because Folded is worked from the bottom up, which means that too-narrow hem was the cast on edge, and one of the only non-magical things about knitting is that you can't just unravel from where you started--you can only unravel from where you ended.  Well, I didn't want to rip out the whole sweater and start over, making the cast on edge bigger (for a wider hem) and I didn't want to just abandon the sweater altogether (this is Madelinetosh Merino Light!  Yummy!) so the only thing left was to cut off the hem and knit it down from there, which after lying awake in anticipation of the endless tedium of doing that, I finally did this morning, and it was an hour of work.  Note to self:  See?  Get in there and get it done, you'll feel better.  To remove the hem, I snipped one stitch right above the ribbing, unpicked each stitch one at a time, and put each loop back on the needle, one at a time, until I had all the stitches live again, and ready to knit--top down, this time--where I will work an extra set or two of increases and add more length to the whole thing, finally ending with the ribbing.  It's a little bit painful to do this, cutting into a completely finished object with scissors and then picking at it for an hour, but honestly, it is waaaayy less painful than knitting an entire sweater in fingering weight yarn and then never wearing it because I'm too lazy to spend half a day fixing a small problem.  That's not how I want to roll.  So, tonight I will knit a few inches of stockinette and then the ribbing, and then I will want to wear this. Luckily, the weather is perfect for it.