Hackey Sack, Anyone?

This hat was designed to use up bits of yarn. The two ounces of handspun, naturally-dyed yarn from a workshop used for it has been sitting, unused and unworn, for longer than I want to admit. Even if I feel that this hat looks like something someone much more committed to hippie fashion than I might proudly wear, at least the yarn is a garment now, not just a skein.

Besides, camping trips are just made for this sort of look, right?

Two done

A sweater with handspun yarn as some of the colorwork, proportions and shaping figured out on the way, along with a fully-handspun (except for the ribbon!) hat. Now, on to other not-yet-done knitting.

Should've made it longer

. . . although I barely made the deadline as it was. Seriously cute, even if it's too short.

This almost makes up for the three sweaters stuck on Sleeve Island.

All done, with thumbs

We all know that we'd be up a creek without the ability to paddle without our thumbs. My mittens (Rav link) are happier with them, it turns out. Also with duplicate stitches. And blocking. And woven-in ends. All add up to mitteny happiness.

Here, perched on the overly-abundant lime tree, just to give a shot of sunny weather-type plants to anyone up to their duplicate stitches in snow:


Thumbs! And also, varied tension on stripes. Maybe over time they'll even out. Or not.


Some people are unhappy with gussetless thumbs. They don't bother me so much. It's not as though I'd like to do some kind of hand-intensive dance, such as Balinese dance, in them, but since I'm not likely to do that at any time, I figure these are good. They fit fine.

It took me much longer than I'd like to admit to figure out that the duplicate stitch went in the little in-between diamond thingies, not the fronds. Fortunately it unpicks easily. And I really don't like duplicate stitch much.


It makes an already-poppy mitten just that much nicer (unlike the obvious mistake in the photo above. Oh well.) They're done.

SQUEAK

All done. Used the charts from this blog, and a general gauge x kid-head measurement for the size. Yarn is Mirasol "Tupa," and I used size 3 needles.

The chart parts were done back and forth, intarsia style, because I haven't mastered intarsia in the round, and this worked out best, although the "A" needs some help. I joined and did the top in the round, then seamed the bottom part. Then I undid and redid the seam because I discovered that it's generally better to seam black wool in bright sun versus a dim evening house.




The resident Pratchett fan is pleased, and warm*, and that's all that matters.

*Hey, it's summer in the Bay Area. It's chilly!

Getting ready for the new crop

Family and friends are having babies, what seems like a lot of babies, lately. So I've taken it as an opportunity to try out some little things. And Mother's Day seems like a good time to get them posted.

Debbie Bliss' "Kaftan" pattern, which looked a whole lot nicer in the pattern (to me) than this version, knit in Jo Sharp's SoHo Summer, in a lovely light grey. The yarn gave me a different gauge, so I had to do some fiddling, and I think it's workable, but it's nowhere near what I'd hoped. Oh well, it was done, and done and sent before babykins showed up, so it's a mark in the "win" column.



A closeup of the neck. I'd like to see someone else's version and see how they dealt with the opening. Just splitting it (as the pattern indicates) can make a stretched stitch at the bottom.


A total labor of love, this set is in Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock in "Jungle Stripe." Made up hat pattern with seed stitch ear covers and borders, and a generous pom pom, plus generic ribbed baby socks.


I live close enough to this crew to see the moms and baby -- when he or she shows up! I can hardly wait. And that's one pleasure that the moms who were done having babies didn't convey strongly enough to me -- how much fun it is to be around other people's babies when you don't want any more.

When I finish the sweater for baby Violet, which is lacking a zipper, I'll post that one too. Three for three before the babies was probably too much to expect.

Medium-Core

I ran in the rain, but only a little bit of rain. Since the pattern has been: squall, clear, light rain light rain, heavy rain, light rain light rain light rain, squall, I figured that a spate of light meant time to lace up the tennies, since I'd finally gotten over the cold. The cold I got during a lovely three day knitting workshop with Janine of Feral Knitter. I got a cold, and many ideas for a sweater, and had lots of fun (and tea). I also discovered that no one making two ply jumperweight Shetland has what I'd call great oranges. Are you listening, yarn companies? yeah, I thought not.

Anyhow, it did feel good to run even though my hurt leg is still very much a part of daily life. It may never feel just right, but it isn't hurting any more if I run than if I didn't, and getting out and going even if the weather isn't perfect makes me feel kind of studly. Not hard-core, because I'm still puttering along at 10 minutes a mile, but medium-core at least.

Despite the rain, life goes on. One of the errands I ran yesterday was mailing a package out to the in-laws. They have cold heads; I'm a knitter, ergo, hat time! The ones for my mother in law are placeholders, one for her and one for my sister in law, so I have time to knit one to the requested pattern. I had these handspun ones done just from fun travel knitting.

Speaking of travel knitting, I plan to carry the gray sweater with me today to a friend's house for a few hours, but will probably leave it languishing in the bag because a baby sweater from stash is calling me. Babies come like inevitable January rainstorms, and I'd like to be done by the time the baby is. Actually, there are two babies on the way, so I need to identify more stash to romp through. And ignore any ideas about colorwork sweaters.

Have I written enough? If the package isn't at your house, and you expect to get that package soon, you can stop reading Right Now. I'm talking to you.

Okay. Pictures now.

Handspun "Felicity" hats. Slouchy, so soft, not my handspun but an absolute dream to work with. I should spin like this.


Regular flip brim watch cap style hat, out of EcoDuo and so soft and light I'd knit one up right now for me if I'd bought another hank, same color. Which I won't because I said anyone with as much yarn as I have should probably just knit some but the yarn is a dream. I'm afraid the brim blocked out floppy -- perhaps the baby alpaca was too much? but it's warm and soft, soft, soft.


So that's it for finished things these days. Except for running. Never finished, which is sort of nice, in a way.

Right on schedule

I am, weirdly.

But first, pictures from that three year old Christmas present.




I think she likes it. If she doesn't want to wear it, it would make a nice table runner:


Close-up of mistake free section.


Friends and acquaintances keep telling me how stressed they are by holiday preparations. I keep waiting for the "oh no oh no oh nos" to hit, but they haven't.

You see, I have a Secret Plan. It involves A List:


If I do everything on that list, in the order listed, I should arrive at Christmas morning serene and with enough sleep. We shall see. Tonight, I finished one Fetching, in Jimmy Bean's 8 ply from stash.


Here it is spokesmodeling one of the uneaten gingerbread houses I got made up and decorated with the kids yesterday. (I delivered them, fully assembled, right on time. A List.)


Now I have to go and quilt one end of a lap quilt before I go to bed. Yawn.

Knitting while Traveling

A big family Thanksgiving isn't the only way to go, but every few years I like to get together with all of my cousins, or at least as many as will get together at the old farm place, and Thanksgiving is a fine time to do it. So I'm in Tennessee right now.

I brought an early Christmas present to my mom. This was started back in 2006, and put in time out for some mistakes I couldn't fix then. Denise suggested that I neither fix them, nor even find them, but bind the piece off and call it good. After I knit that edging, then pinned it out for blocking, I found the mistakes. . . but it's okay. After three years, my memory sort of softens.


She said she'd put on a nice blouse and model it for me tomorrow.

A stop at Bliss Yarns in Brentwood to meet up with some absolutely lovely Ravelers led to these two skeins of local alpaca coming home with me. I love that the name of the animal is on the label. These come from Teardrop. Teardrop has a nice gray coat.


These are going to become either Brünnhilde or Ceangaltas Mittens from Knitting New Mittens and Gloves. Is it only coincidence that they almost perfectly match the Araucania Nature Wool in this sweater?


Yes, this sweater now has only a start to a sleeve. . . I took the plunge and ripped it out after discovering (through the magic of counting) that I had cast on approximately half the stitches of the entire body for the sleeve. No wonder it got too big. My arm isn't half of the circumference of my waist; it's nearly a third. I hope this one works well. It's going to be my "flight home knitting," but I'm going to switch to a longer cable for easier magic looping.

I also discovered that the lovely orange/yellow raglan cable sweater I made for a little one has a tiny mistake in it -- right in the front. I was gazing at my littlest daughter wearing it and thinking how nice it is to see my kids wearing sweaters I make, and saw a miscounted stitch right on the front of the sweater.

Sigh.

MIssion Creep

That baby sweater really is almost done. Good thing, too, because I'm not sure it's going to fit the wee lass who is now already three weeks old. Sheesh. Some day I'm going to need to crank this knitting speed thing up a bit.

So. Did I spend my free afternoon finishing the sweater with adorable embroidered flowers and clever ties? No! I spent it bringing to conclusion my first foray into Japanese sewing books. I tend to try to keep my book acquisitiveness in some kind of control --mostly it just pops out in something like garden seeds -- but these books really got to me. I love sewing, and I'm not great at it, but my kids will sometimes wear what I make, and these just look so -- well, like things I'd love to see my kids in.

The books are all in Japanese, but they're pretty clear if you've done any sewing. My big challenge is recognizing which pattern pieces go with which pattern, as they're all on one paper and you're to trace your own cutting copy. Not reading Japanese means that I did my best. I didn't actually use a pattern for the trim, though! (And I just realized that I omitted the pocket. Must add that. . .)

So here is the little beauty resting on a bed of kale I went on to thin drastically:

And from the back, on the child it's meant for. It's been warm here -- good for the skirt, bad for a baby sweater -- so she'll be able to wear it this week to school.


After a hard day's play, her hair is less sleek than it was when Bridget braided it this morning:


I'm looking forward to doing more sewing soon. I noticed some really yummy flannel and couldn't help thinking of matching Christmas pajamas. Ha! Maybe I should finish some matching Christmas gloves for Sarafina before I get completely nuts.

Finished things

I realized that I didn't explain the helmet hair in the last post. We've been riding our bikes and we all have wonky hair after pulling off our super-duper bike helmets. Oh well, small price to pay, I guess. Plus, my hair is often damp so I just do some heavy-duty finger fluffing once I get home.

The latest hat will probably mash hair much more thoroughly than a bike helmet, though. My own 3/2 rib design, quickly put up in Lamb's Pride worsted, in the same color I knit my very first sweater for me in, about 12 years ago. I have got to get this yarn all used up! Maybe I'll knit feltable potholders or something.


I liked the decreases when I was done:


The yarn dyed with indigo has been humming in my head ever since it was dry: "Wonder what I'll loooooooook like? Wonder how I'll spinnnnnnn. . . " I may not be able to resist heedlessly starting new knitting projects as the whim takes me, but I can wait on spinning, partially because I only have a few bobbins and it's hard to spin over other yarn. Besides, I had to finish that lavender wool that I had 3/4 spun up. So I did.


618 yards of two-ply laceweight. I haven't figured out the wpi yet, and it clearly varies. I'm toying with the idea of replying it. It's nicely balanced, but it's very loosely plied. I obviously need some remedial spinning help.


The color is sort of all over the place. Some of the white appears yellowish to me, but the lavender is kind of appealing. A swatch would tell a truer story.


Maybe when I finish the two sweaters just hanging about on the needles, that's just what I'll do. Or else I'll spin indigo. . .

Spreading like a virus, it is

I dressed my knitting bag in layers today. Since we were heading to the park for our weekly homeschool get-together, there were a few principles to pack by. It's just like making certain that everyone has a backup sweater in the car. You just never know.

For instance, I hoped (but didn't know) that:

Someone might hold the baby if she slept.
I might get some help on the sticky parts of my Clock Vest.
I would want some easy knitting in case the sleeping baby thing didn't happen.
And, I should probably finish that dratted mittlet.

Last night I noticed that one of the cables on the vest had gotten wonky. Just something odd. Then, I notied that the central cable, while a thing of beauty, might have, you know, just moved one stitch to the side. I tried to tell myself that I could manage that, and just ignore it and reshape the shoulders to accomodate that later on.

But, I also cast on a simple little baby hat, in Knit Picks Merino Style, for the teeny little guy born to my neighbors. I figured a little color work would keep me from gnashing my teeth in boredom, and some simplicity would help me not make a complete hash of it, as I have clearly wandered into some Bad Knitting place. I haven't yet chosen the colorwork pattern, but I'm thinking. I wish I could do teeny seahorses, because his name translates as "seahorse," but the gauge is too big.

Back at the park, however, the baby I carry around did fall asleep, and there are enough post-small-children mothers there that I practically get a line of people saying, "Sleeping baby? Yes! I will hold." They clearly remember their children's babyhoods well, though, as any child is better asleep.

So I whipped out the troublesome vest, and with the moral support and chart holding of my friend Jenny, ripped back five rows of the Bad Cable A and reknit it while she talked me through it. Gratifyingly enough, she did murmur things like, "I would be in tears by now" as I said, "Now, which way does that stitch go? Front? Back?" over and over again.

The neat part is that I did it. Really and truly -- yanked those puppies out and redid them, made them behave and everything. But you know what the best part of it was?

I was knitting in a circle of, oh, conservatively, twenty, women, and all but maybe four were knitting away. It's not a knitting group. Knitting just happens there as a side effect of being together with not a lot to do for about three or four hours every week.

But, two years ago, I was the Lone Knitter at the group. Some of the women knew how to knit, some had even learned from their mothers or grandmothers. Yet, no one knit. Ever. Well, I did. And it was weird, at first. Sort of like having a vaguely embarassing disorder. They were. . . polite . . . about it. One said she'd really rather quilt. Others just weren't at all interested. I didn't talk about it (too much).

Then. . . someone showed up with a novelty yarn scarf. Someone sheepishly asked if I could show them how to bind off. Someone brought yarn and let others fondle it.

As though it was the most natural thing in the world, nearly all of them picked up needles and started to do their own thing. Some have pretty much stayed with little scarves. Some are getting completely inspired, whipping out socks and sweaters and lace and cables oh my. The holiday season was rife with knitted items showing up on doorsteps all over town.

Just today, two new members, who haven't knitted before, shyly pulled out scarves they made, just to surprise me.

Somehow, and just based on being first, I'm known as one of the "better knitters" in the group. I have evidence (had it there today, in fact) that if that's true, we're all in trouble. I still feel like I ought to live up to it, though. So today, I brought a little finishing needle to get the mittlets wearable. I pulled up the two dropped stitches and used the tail to secure them, figuring it's warmth, not art, where these are concerned. I turned the troublesome left one inside out and got all the ends squared away, then triumphantly turned to show them to my buddy.

"See?" I squealed, "They've got these great gussets. . . oh no! I made two right ones again! Argh argh argh. Drat it."

She looked at me sympathetically and I stomped off to stow them in my bag and pulled out the little baby hat. My baby, bless her, was still asleep. My friend made encouraging noises about the hat, but I wasn't listening. Finally, I looked her in the eyes and said, "Hold on."

Got the mittlets.

Looked at the repaired one.

Turned it right side out.

Hey, presto. Right and left.

"I don't know how you do it"

My life seems to elicit strong reactions from people I meet. It's not that I appear bizarrely out of any mainstream, or that I spend a lot of time expounding on my views -- I seem to be a sort of blank slate on which people project their thoughts. I don't know; maybe everyone is, really.

But I get variations on the title of this post a lot. Sometimes it's for something I've done, sometimes for something I am. Hand someone a small gift for the holiday? "I don't know how you do it!" Read and talk about a lengthy book? "I don't know how you do it!" Be outed as a mother of four children? "I don't know how you do it!" Admit that I knit and even finish some items (despite those many children)? "I don't know how you do it!"

Some people sound rueful, like they'd like to do something like it, and some sound amused that I even attempt whatever it is they're remarking on. Some sound like I probably shouldn't bother, given the results I'm getting.

Mostly, I don't know what to do in response. Some days, I go for humble, gosh, golly-gee toe scuffing kind of response: "Oh, I don't know, you don't see the bad days." And sometimes, I want to get all up in their faces and say, "Yeah? You don't know how I do it, huh? Well, let me tell you -- I also make all of my own bread! Yeah, I do! and I homeschool these kids! AND we have chickens too!" Then I want to walk off, cackling. But then they'd probably conclude that I "do it" by being stark raving crazy.

Thing is, I don't know how people do most of what they do. By "know," I mean know in any visceral, I-have-walked-in-your-shoes way. Who does? I don't know how women who doing structural engineering for a living do it. Or those who play badmiton for fun. Or those who have grown, successful, happy children. Although those folks, well, I wouldn't mind finding out.

What it all boils down to, I suspect, is that the phrase is code for something else, but what it is varies. It could mean, "I admire what you're accomplishing." Similarly, it could be, "I'm feeling as though I'm not doing much these days and I wish I were doing more," or "You seem utterly overwhelmed -- I'm impressed that your shoes match." It's like the time, back when I only had three children, a friend said, ". . . since you have so many children." This friend had two children at the time. That's right, one more than I did. Still, to her, it seemed as though I had many.

I admit now, I have many. And they seem like more.

But it's a hard phrase to respond to, given the multiple layers of meaning it can have. I know the places I fall so far short of what I want to be, or to accomplish, and I know the places I'm doing well, according to my lights. Mostly I just put one foot in front of the other and do the work at hand. Any joy I can stumble on on the way? Bonus. Any kindness I can remember to do? Even better. I don't know if there's karma waiting for me, or a judgement, or just oblivion. It's immaterial. I do what I do and it's not performance. It's just me.

I am, however, wildly pleased when I finish something.