The Adamant Knitter (or "A is for...")

This morning in the park.  And, yes, Chester knows he thought a typo.

Today I decided to work from home. Rainy day, boss in Japan, nightmare document to write (ok, I exaggerate: it is a document that has to please many masters and that takes a lot of fortitude), remote capabilities, why not?

But in order to have some stimulation, I hie me to the local Starbucks (and I mention them by name with no qualms because they offer health benefits to workers clocking more than 20 hours a week and have same-sex partner benefits). After assertively getting my coffee and spinach wrap ("are you sure someone put it in the oven? Not yet? Ok, I'll wait here for it" *stare fixedly at register worker until wrap is in my hands*), I wedge myself in the one remaining table available, and while the lighting sucks, it's by an outlet. Set up the laptop, put in my earplugs, get ready to prove that working remotely doubles my productivity, (especially because I was up at 5am finishing a Man Scarf and am therefore on a roll, baby) and... Outlook crashes.

scarf finished at 6.32am

Right now the little message box says my data file was not closed properly and is being checked for problems and that there are 12 hours remaining for the check. I'm not the only one who exaggerates, Microsoft does it too, because when I started this blog entry there were 34 hours remaining in the check.

Talk about wind outa my sails...

What to do but cast on?

But then I start thinking about this blog and how walking through the woods this morning, I wanted to start a list of knitter types or knitting moods in an alphabetical theme. Now, is could totally fall apart and lose momentum (like the great Colinette felting experiment: one entry to date), but as there are 7 hours left on my Outlook check, I shall commence.

A is for...

The Adamant Knitter. She whips out that knitting wherever, whenever. On public transportation she has no qualms about racing 15-year-olds with earbud blastomania to the last remaining seat on the subway car and playing dirty to get it.

The Angelic Knitter. He selflessly knits helmet liners and chemo caps, and can whip through pair after pair of mitten-top gloves for the homeless. He never gossips while doing this. The karma attached to his prayer shawls is pure.

The Amorous Knitter. It's all about the boyfriend. Sweaters, socks, hats, scarves. Usually in the first year of the relationship, this is a phase that can sometimes extend into year two. Upon the breakup, she reclaims her needles by going through a very pink lace knitting phase.

The Apocolyptic Knitter. The sky is falling, the sky is falling. This sleeve is shaped all wrong and the decreases aren't matching up on both sides and somehow the pieces to seam - see how this side is an inch shorter than that side and how the heck did that happen and I hate this and I'm done and whoever wrote this pattern is getting an email from me, buddy, and... Oh, I had it pinned together upside down and backwards?

The Apologetic Knitter. "dear pattern-writer: I am so sorry that I flamed you on that knitting message board and called you all those names..."

The Apostolic Knitter. Don't ask her about her knitting or you will be learning to use your pens or pencils as needles along with whatever spare, ancient thread is in her bag - and this could even be dental floss. She is on a mission to convert the idle couch potatoes into scarf-producing (and therefore productive) members of society.

The Aloha Knitter. Love, love, love. He loves to knit and loves you and if you know him you may get an acrylic-yarn potholder (and an apologetic smile when it melts), a very long or very short scarf (depending on how much yarn is in the one skein he knows how to knit), and one sock with a promise of one that kinda matches sometime "soon".

The Admirable Knitter. She can slice, dice, steek (nerves of steel), do lacework, color work, belongs to three crafting guilds (knitters', crocheters and weavers) with a master rating from all three, spins her own yarn, can ferret out the best-grade wool in a sale bin, and comes with a set of Ginzu steak knives. But wait - there's more! She knows how to tenderly wash each fabric, the best blocking methods and tools, and can repair a puppy's enthusiastic demonstration of love on Mama's favorite poncho. (if you find her, send my way - I have a few handknit items with love bites that need attention.)

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for myself, I mostly claim being an Adamant knitter. I knit everywhere anymore, with few apologies, and I live such a pure life these days that this is my song:



And, Alex, I'll take I KNIT for $6,000!

The attempt at interactive blogging yesterday didn't go so well, but feel free to chime in with your A-themed Knitters...

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- Posted using BleogPress from my iPad

Chptr 44: In Which I Finished a Scarf but Also Have to Go to Shopping Mall

60 hours in which I knit about 12 (the rest were wasted time)

Kinda digging this scarf which is the first of 5 I need to plow through in the next couple weeks so I can (stop reading if you're worried about my retirement and the Acura's alignment) order more yarn.  (This is the yarn I got from the lovely Nangellini.)

I'm going through a long-striping-repeat adoration phase.  Colinette's speckles and sprays of color will one day absorb me again, but right now it's all about the Silk Garden.

Where I knit on this scarf:

• At a Starbucks on a mellow Wednesday night awaiting my sweet Em
• In bed
• On the Metro (red line)
• In  meeting about implementing a company-wide purchase order system
• At the Cosi on Dupont Circle in the sun on a spectacular warm November day
• At a doctor's appointment
• On the couch watching gratuitously pop-culture bad television (mostly CBS but also some NBC)
• NOT IN THE BATHROOM

I have been accused of maybe hiding in the bathroom at work and knitting but, really, that has never even occurred to me.  I find it disconcerting when I'm in a public restroom and someone starts talking and it turns out they are ON THEIR CELLPHONE whilst doing... private... things.  Or, even more disturbing, whilst I am doing private things.

If you ever get a gift from me, yes, it may have been blocked on a floor, it may have traversed the DC area and picked up some interesting particles, and it may have been mashed in my purse or totebag (each of them a whole universe of mystery; I never know WHAT I'm going to pull out and some of what I pull out of them, I really don't remember ever putting IN them) - but never, oh never, will it have been in a bathroom.

Pinkie swear.

What are you knitting?  Post your blog links, especially if they are holiday gifts and if they are for BOYS.
 
Oops, almost forgot:  Speaking of boys, the requested gift for my soon-to-be-7-years-old nephew, Ryan, supposedly lives at a shopping mall 30+ miles away.  It's the KINGDOM (not the CITY) Lego advent calendar.  I do not like malls.  More and more as I get older and older.  Not sure why.  Maybe it's because all the STUFF is disturbing (says the woman with two or three bathtubs equivalent of yarn - seriously, I can't think of any other way to articulate how much yarn I have).  Oddly (or maybe not oddly) flea markets are disturbing as well.   Same stuff being sold, but on different ends of the "used" spectrum.  (And I need to state that the Amazon links I use on this blog (like the one to the left) are solely for illustrative purposes.  Easy and legal way to illustrate the things I am chatting about.)

But I digress from actually getting out of bed and getting ready for this visit to The Mall.  From which I may or may not recover.


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Chptr 40-something (sound familiar?): While we're on a mad rant to knit scarves...

I got my Christmas present a couple days ago - yarn to knit for menfolk (yarn without much pink) - the boys at work are getting scarves this year.  And I owe one to Mr. Sedaris, can't forget that.  Ravelry member Nangellini beautifully packaged, card and little felt balls and tissue and all, the Noro Silk Garden for the man scarves I'm now knitting.  Obsessively.

Ravelry members are the most fun to order from - Ravelry member Marjut included Finnish chocolate for me (I now have a pining for the Geisha bar) with the Colinette mohair I will be tackling after holidays.  

I will definitely be visiting Nangellini when I hit Philadelphia next.  Meredith loves this mandala that is displayed on Nancy's site (check under the "fine arts" tab).  I am tempted to neglect these scarves to start knitting something lacy in the round, but I must stay focused... must stay focused...

Have recently been participating in an online discussion at the site KnitIdeas.com about left-handed vs. right-handed yarn holding (ostensibly English vs. Continental style, but there are so many variations on at least the Continental side of things).  It's an interesting discussion to participate it, and if you have any firm convictions one way or another please chime in!

I find my method of knitting (Russian-style, yarn in left hand but a different motion to pick up the yarn from Continental) so darn quick when it comes to rows with knitting and purling.  I can whip out a 1x1 rib so quickly, it'll blind you.  If I do say so myself.  Although this video is entitled "Russian Knitting in the Rounds," it actually demonstrates ribbing and shows how easily you go from knit to purl to knit to purl in the same row.  Watch this (not me) and imagine this happening a lot faster (me) and be amazed (not that I'm arrogant or anything).



Morning is breaking (sorry, have to do this, hit ME), and dogs need a-walking.  Here is a lovely blog about walks in Ireland (and knitting, of course) - makes me want to document my own local wilderness more closely inspired by Nikki's amazing pictures.

Happy clicking or hooking or spinning or weaving.  As my sweet Meredith would sign off:  Peace.


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I Knit Therefore I Frog: a classic tale of pain, catharsis and redemption in three acts

The background picture is THE IKI pre-frog (thanks for the picture, T)

This holiday season, I am trying to listen to my inner Budget Stasher. This holiday season, I have MEN to knit for, and I work with these men, and I find it just a little bit too intimate to make socks for men I work with. (I would be sitting in meetings, staring at their feet, wondering what was under their trouser legs, and they would have to do the old “Eyes up here” at me.)(Then again, if I could be sure this would not end up on my HR records, this could be kinda fun.)

I do not have a lot of masculine yarn. I. Like. Pink. I also like yarn of variegated colors, so pink shows up all over the place in my stash.

Limited to a) my stash, and b) yarns without pink, there is only one real solution: Frog* (drum roll, and make it dramatic) the Iki. 

Iki Pattern in this book

Relevant background: The Iki is a knit kimono pattern from Knit Kimono by Vickie Square . I was inspired to get this last holiday season because I had a gift card to The Large Chain Bookstore, and I love the simplicity of the basic kimono design. (Interested? Click here.)

I knit my Iki, seams and all, the first week of 2010. It was a LOT of knitting. It was a week of staycation of dedicated knitting. I knit and knit and knit and knit – this pattern is ONE LONG PIECE OF KNITTING – and when I was done and had provisionally seamed it, it looked horrible on me. The texture of the Noro Silk Garden that I used was not heavy enough to give the garment a good drape, at least on my nicely padded frame. And while I am more than willing to take fashion chances (for example, see this), I didn’t even want my DOGS to see me in the Silk Garden Iki.

We needed a break, the Iki and me (I? Me? Eh.), and nice long break, and so Iki was put away. In bag, in storage bin, in upper corner of closet away. Far, far away. It was the best I could do at the time.

The background pic here is Frogged Iki

With my inner Budget Stasher (introduced in this blog post) insisting that I use my stash, and with the Iki having been knit in a non-pink palette, and with the frigging holidays approaching, yesterday was The Day to frog the Iki.

Einstein Coat In This

Yesterday morning, before my coffee had kicked in and while I was still kinda sleep-fogged, I dug out Iki. I looked at her folds, I knew she was doing me no good as she was, all wadded up and stuffed away. I knew that the idea of using her for Sally Melville’s Einstein Coat for me was a good one, but I am a long way away from casting that one on (I want to get my current projects back down to the single digits, and now I have like, 35 or so lurking about). And I have other yarn I can use for my Einstein Coat. Yarn with pink, which I like.

So I quickly whipped out the provisional seams, found the end of my 30? 40? 50+? hours of knitting (ONE WEEK AT LEAST OF MY KNITTING LIFE, ONE PRECIOUS WEEK!), undid the knot and pulled. The unraveling had started. They say the first step can be the hardest. Hmmm. I actually felt kind of relieved. But I had to go to work, my job, the place that pays the underwater mortgage.

I will not knit while driving, but I have found it was quite cathartic to frog while sitting at interminable red lights.

I discovered that frogging at work is actually enjoyable. I frogged in the break area and got lots of “Oh, my God, you’re undoing all of that?” comments. Gratifying.

I frogged while talking to one of the executives about getting me some 2011 numbers that I need to do some of my planning for next year. He was amused, and even though he is tardy, he got cool boss points which put him solidly in my “not mad at him this week” column.

I also discovered that frogging something I spent a lot of time on can take me back to where I was when I was knitting it. I’m a big reader and often when I re-read things, I’m somehow transported back to where I was another time I read the same book. I read Jane Austen’s Emma for the first time while at the University of Maryland, in my LaPlata Hall dorm room. I reread Emma once every four or five years, and it takes me back to that time in my life.

Thus it was with frogging that project. At the beginning of 2010, the week I knit the Iki, I had just ended a relationship, been in an accident that totaled my beloved Mini Cooper (the two were not related, fortunately), re-homed two cats, and turned forty-effing-six (an age which, when said aloud, came as something of a shock to me – dunno why, as it’s the usual age one turns after being forty-five). Frogging the Iki took me back to my lonely, carless, shell-shocked-by-my-age state. I got to visit that place and see where I am now – happily in love with someone who LOVES not just me, but also my knitting (!!!!!), I'm no longer overwhelmed by the furbaby count, and I let go of the fun that was darting around in a sweet mint-green Mini that matched my eyecolor and have found satisfaction with a paid-for, practical, functional car (yes, the check engine light is still a problem – waved hi to me yesterday after being in hiatus for about a week).

Frogging that Iki, saying goodbye to one vision, winding those balls of yarn, creating new possibilities.

It really did not suck. In fact, I kind of enjoyed it.

The background here is Noro Striped Scarf as of bedtime, yesterday

Despite my myriad of other projects, I needed to start knitting with the repurposed Silk Garden RIGHT AWAY.  As immediate gratification for my frogging fortitude, don't you know.

I took a couple balls of the yarn which seemed to have contrasting color repeats and started a favorite pattern: Jared Flood’s Noro striped Scarf.

For winter knits, I have found that pairing the Silk Garden with a kid mohair lace, like Colinette Parisienne or Rowan Kidsilk Haze, adds a soft aura to the Noro without taking away the sheen of the silk. In the scarf I started last night (ostensibly for Dr. Ueno, but don’t hold me to that), I paired Noro Silk Garden #272 with Rowan Kidsilk Haze #632.

Love Love Love Bruce's book for Man Things!

It was nice to just knit. After frogging, it felt good to knit without needing a pattern and contemplate new possibilities. It felt wonderful to knit and contemplate how, miraculously, time can bring amazing surprises and accomplishments and healing.

You should be aware that my inner Budget Stasher (I envision her as Queen Latifah) was pretty darn happy with me, too.  In her smug, I-told-you-so-girlfriend, kinda way.  (I'm letting her have her little victory.  Me and Devil Stasher have some plans she doesn't know about yet...)

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*For my non-knitting friends who read this, “frogging,”  in yarn-speak, means undoing, sometimes in tears, your knitting. If a knitter says anything to you about “frog” or “frogged” or “frogging,” it is ALWAYS appropriate to make a sympathetic face or noise and express empathy. Frogging can be like creating an exquisite and inspired Excel spreadsheet complete with formulas and having to change it completely because some freak in another department insists it doesn't work for them.  Or something like that - insert your own wasted-time-and-effort scenario here.
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Chptr 21 - In Which Our Narrator Pairs Colinette with Noro to Sublime Result

Talk about Noro and Nature!

This is Jen's Poncho from the AMAZING Sally Melville*'s book "The Knitting Experience Book 1: The Knit Stitch" which I highly recommend to any level knitter as a pretty darn cool book with great instruction, helpful information, and patterns that are not just interesting, but functional as well. If I was less ADD, I'd pick this as a book to knit through, reading whatever the Divine Ms. M has to tell me. I checked this out of the library originally and after keeping it long enough that the fines equaled what I could pay for a copy on Amazon (including shipping), I decided to get it for myself.

Someday I will knit the Einstein coat (for the story, hit this, and go down to the section on The Knitting Experience, book 1 - start at 2nd paragraph) - and I want to use Noro to do that.

This poncho was knit with Noro Silk Garden, 7 skeins total: 2 of colorway 279 (the stripes) and 5 of colorway 269. A Tangled Skein in Hyattsville, Maryland, did the honors of Noro supply. For suppleness and a bit of a friendly fuzzy aura, I paired the Noro with Colinette Parisienne (mostly kid mohair) in Soft Sienna (colorway #125). My stripe pattern was a 12 row total: 6 rows of the main color, 2 rows of complementary color, 2 rows of main color, 2 rows of complementary color.

After wearing a couple times, the neck was stretching out so I crocheted a cord and threaded it through the finishing border of the neck opening.

I literally had a woman stop me on the street and offer to buy it off me; and wouldn't you know, within 24 hours my puppy (NOT Chester, thank God or I would have to pose him in an all-out princess getup for his atonement) had chewed a little hole in it which I still have not had the heart to figure out how to fix and will take somewhere, someday, for repair advice.

This was has been an easy, very wearable, item... in fact, I will probably wear it today! To quote Jen S - it's very fallish.


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* Seriously - her story, especially after 1993, is really a testament to the therapy that knitting and crocheting can be - I swear there should be a T-shirt knitters can get when life basically craps on you that says "Knit through THIS!"
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