Thank You Lord, For Teaching Me Humilty

I think that I'm a pretty decent knitter. Good even. On a good day, I possibly even qualify as advanced. Nothing about knitting intimidates me. A pattern with 9 different lace charts? No problem. Half a dozen different cable patterns in the same sweater? Bring it on! A 17 color intarsia pattern - in cotton? Okay, there might be some swearing and occasional throwing of the sweater across the room, but sure, I'll go for it.

Point is, most of the things that I knit (not all of them - there are Projects of Shame hidden away that will never be spoken of) even if they're rated as "challenging" come out pretty well. So why then, I ask, am I having so much trouble with this particular shawl?



This is not going to be my shawl - I'm knitting it for a friend. Betty from Moose Manor Handpaints requested volunteers to do some sample knitting for her. She offered to pay in yarn - she didn't exactly have to go begging for volunteers. I'm working with an alpaca/silk lace weight in a colorway called Summer Berries. Betty's only stipulation was that the pattern be done with one skein of yarn and that, if possible, it be a free pattern available online. So keep in mind, that it was me who chose this pattern.


It's not at all a difficult pattern. It's translated from Finnish, but I don't think that's what's causing the problem, because I'm working from a vey clear and easy to follow chart. Yet for some reason I haven't yet managed to do a single row of this shawl without having to tink back or re-count something. Even the wrong side row that I just did, where I basically just had to purl every stitch, I somehow managed to knit every stitch.

Just before I performed that particular bone-headed maneuver, a man sitting next to me on the subway asked me if it was difficult to do. I told him no.

Apparently I lied.

Making a Public Spectacle of Myself

I love that knitting and (if you're using a drop spindle) spinning are such portable hobbies. I never leave the house without a project (or three) in my bag, in my purse or in my pocket. The one thing that I actually like about commuting to work every day is that I've got two 45-minute long blocks per day to knit while I'm on the train.

I'm pretty well known on the 6:13 train out of Penn Station and people who regularly sit near me not only ask me about what I'm knitting and notice when I've started something new, they recognize things that they've seen while I was working on them. I've even noticed some of them pointing me out to newcomers like proud parents showing off a child's artwork.

I tend to get much more attention when I spin than when I knit. Most people have seen someone knitting before at some point in their lives and it's something that they more or less recognize. Spinning, though, they don't usually get. Even when I try to explain it to them, they don't seem to always understand how the fluffy stuff in my hand is going to eventually be turned into a piece of clothing via the twirly-stick-thing that I'm holding. When I spin on the train I tend to see a lot of heads popping up over the backs of seats like little urban prairie dogs. There also tend to be a lot of camera phones pointed oh so casually in my general direction.

Usually if I catch the eye of one of my observers I'll just give them a little smile or a nod. Sometimes it scares them away and they quickly look down at their book or their phone, but sometimes they'll take the opening and ask me what I'm doing. This is followed by a general sigh of relief in the immediate area that somebody finally asked and other people will sometimes take the opportunity to ask additional questions.

Some of the most frequently asked questions I've gotten:
Is it cheaper than just buying yarn? (It generally takes me a few seconds to stop laughing after this one) No, it is not cheaper. Not by any stretch of the imagination, but somewhat perversely, the more labor intensive something is, the more money my friends and I are willing to spend on it.

Why do it if it's not any cheaper? Because knitting isn't weird enough and spinning is hugely entertaining. Also, I will have yarn when I'm done that isn't like the yarn that anyone else will have.

What do you do with it? Frequently nothing. I spin the yarn faster than I can knit it and I have so much in the house that I usually forget where it is. My intent when I'm spinning it though is to eventually knit or weave something with it.

Is that the natural color of the sheep? Occasionally the answer is yes, but frequently the answer is "although it would really be cool if someone were to manage to breed a blue sheep, this particular fiber was dyed. "

Sure, Why Not?

So, it's Christmas Eve. I've actually done pretty well this year, all my shopping was done weeks ago. We decided not to go overboard this year buying gifts and decorating. We're having a pretty calm and relaxed Christmas, which is really just what we need right now. I didn't even do any Christmas knitting this year. Except, my mother asked me yesterday what I had gotten for her boyfriend Tony.

I had sort of forgotten about Tony. I asked her what she thought I should give him and she said a hat. I pointed out that a couple of weeks ago would have been a good time to mention a hat, but let's not dwell.

It is, as I mentioned, 3:00 in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. She's going to see him about 3:00 on Christmas Day. I've got bulky yarn. I see no reason why I can't have a hat done by tomorrow.

Really.

Cleverness and the Lack Thereof

I decided last night (when I got off the train and saw that it was snowing) that I need a hat with earflaps. So, I went online after dinner and found a pattern I liked and stayed up way too late knitting.

I love that I knit when it gets cold and snowy and windy. There's nothing like leaving the house covered head to foot in hand knits to make you feel really clever and productive.

Making me feel slightly less clever is the fact that I forgot my pants this morning. (I'm wearing pants - just not work-appropriate ones.) Our office dress code doesn't include casual, but it's really damp and windy where I live (also, I'm a bit of a clutz, so if I fall on my butt in the snow I don't want to ruin my work pants) so I'll frequently put my dress pants in my bag and wear jeans, then change in the ladies room when I get to work. This morning, though, I left the bag with my pants sitting next to the coat rack.

Oh, well. At least I'm warm.

Keep it Simple Stupid

The space on one of the few non-slanty walls on the second floor needed something and I decided on a small shelf. About the same time, I was trying to come up with a storage solution for my drop spindles, as my current method of leaving them wherever I was sitting when I used them last wasn't really working. (This method also led to one of my favorites going missing for nearly a year.)

The solution that presented itself was so simple that I feel a little stupid for not thinking of it sooner.

A wooden shelf that we already had in the house and a two dollar package of eye-screws later and I have a perfect storage/display rack.



There's also space for this little guy. My mother got this for me last year from a booth at Rhinebeck and gave it to me for Christmas. Of all the sheep-related items in that particular booth she picked this one for me because she thought I would like it.



She was right. I had already been through the same booth and gotten an identical one a few minutes earlier.

Unidentified Finished Object

Okay, so obviously it's a pair of socks. I would love to tell you which sock pattern it is - but I don't remember. It's a cute pattern, and it was really easy to memorize, but I had it written out onto index cards and I apparently lost the pattern at some point, so your guess is as good as mine.

I think I started these about a year or so ago. I don't know why I put them down when they were so close to being finished, but there was just half a sock to go when I found them in the knitting basket. So... one pair of socks down.

I feel so productive.

To the Rescue

So, my friend has this lace scarf. It's pretty but not really anything special. It's acrylic, not hand knit or anything just something that she picked up at H&M, probably for under $20, but she likes it.

The scarf started out as a mobius , sort of, it looked like it was knitted flat and then seamed, but you get the idea - until someone borowed it from her and didn't "get" why the scarf was one big circle so she took a pair of scissors to the seam and cut the thing open.



My friend was understandably - bothered - when she got her scarf back. (I'm trying to keep this blog family-friendly so I won't go into the details of her exact reaction.)

Some liberties were taken but fixing it wasn't too big a deal. The scarf is lace weight but the only thing I had that was even close to the right color was fingering weight. The shade isn't exactly a match, but from more than a few inches away you can't tell. I had originally planned to knit a little border onto it, but when I got a closer look I decided on a crocheted edge. Partly because I just couldn't face trying to pick up all those stitches in any kind of pattern, but mostly because the person who cut the edge off apparently did it with a dull machete and I thought a crocheted edge would have a better chance of hiding the damage. So, a quick row of single crochet then a little picot edge and it almost looks like it was done that way on purpose.