In sickness and in health.

12. March 2012 · Write a comment · Categories: work in progress · Tags: ,

About the only thing that is any good whatsoever about being sick is that you have loads of time where you feel like crap and are tired, but can’t sleep because you feel like the aforementioned crap. And so you knit. Knitting I can do, especially if I take off my glasses and just watch the stitches. I don’t know why I don’t get sick more often. (Oh wait. Yeah I do. I hate feeling like crap.)

Anyhow, progress is being made. I really do think I love the variegation with this pattern, although I’m discovering far more colors in here than I had originally thought. Not really a problem, just, you know… surprising.

I should probably also admit weighing your yarn is quite helpful only when you’re able to remember to keep weighing it as you go. *hangs head* Yes, I forgot to weigh it when I finished Chart 1 AND Chart 2, and now I’ve started Chart 3 and I’ve really no idea what that means. To be fair, I’m not one who thinks knitting should include math and I did mention this might be a bit of a gamble, but if I do more of these bottom up shawls, I might have to change my tune just to ease my mind. I’ll also need a better scale. But let’s worry about that later.

While the lace is moving along in a most spec-TAC-a-lar fashion (yes, I’ve been watching Larry Crowne repeatedly), I can’t help but feel a little disconcerted when I look at the skein and see just how much I’ve used up. “You use less as you get farther along,” I repeat to myself. “No need to panic.” Yet.

Bottoms up.

04. March 2012 · Write a comment · Categories: work in progress · Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Wow. Sometimes you come across an experience that totally opens your eyes. I’m in the middle of one of these, and I can tell you I am going to be a better knitter on the other side of this WIP.

I’ve been going through my stash and choosing yarns I love—mostly because the ginkgo pattern was so scrumptious, and it’s really easy to walk away with a FO on a one skein project. I’m craving something new, so I cast on Hitchhiker using my lovely Jayne colored Firefly yarn. That’s a great traveling piece, but I was wanting something more to work on, so I also pulled out the raspberry-chocolate skein of Socks That Rock, and looked for a lace scarf that would play with the variegated pattern rather than fight with it. Enter the Peacock shawlette.

This project is a first in many ways for me. It’s the first time I’ve actually looked to find a pattern that works with the yarn I’ve chosen. I have a love/hate relationship with variegation–I love the more subtle variations of color, but not so much the multiple colors thrown together. I’m finally understanding there are measures of variegation, and that if I want to use something with lots of variegation in color, then I’d better have a pattern that is relatively plain so the yarn can shine. This variegation is more subtle, so I think it will work well with lace that’s interesting, but not so involved that it will again take away from the beauty of the yarn.

It’s also my first bottom up scarf pattern, which is really intriguing because it isn’t “the same thing” only in reverse. It’s actually a little unnerving because my experience with lace is that you can’t screw that stuff up and let it go, because it all shows up in the blocking. And by Row 5, I’d corrected a few too many missteps that I felt it would start to be noticeable. So I decided not to frog the entire thing, but to tink back to the middle of Row 2, where my confusion started. Can you say “Hello, lifelines?” Yeah, me too.

That was my third first: using lifelines. I love working lace patterns; the repetition and the symmetry make sense to me. But this time, I’m faltering slightly, so I feel better with knowing the lifeline is there if I need it. The other thing about this pattern? Usually I’ve got lots of garter stitch behind me before we get to the lace. There’s an investment of time that I have already put in, so I’m likely to work back and fix a mistake. By starting on the lace first, it’s really easy to either ignore an error and move on (because I want to see progress and who is really going to see the mistake besides me?) ore else frog the WIP completely since it’s so easy at this point to say “just start it over”. Ouch.

Another first: stitch markers contributing to my errors, rather than keeping me on track. Now that I get that, I can factor it in, but damn! It wasn’t obvious to me just by looking at the pattern: I had to confirm my suspicions by researching what others had to say about the pattern, and sure enough; it was shifting by a stitch each RS row. Dammit.

And finally, I’m weighing my yarn. A definite first. If I do this more, I’m going to need a better scale, because my food scale just isn’t accurate enough. But I’m in the middle of a pattern that requires 10 yards less than what I actually have. So this is either gonna be interesting, or problematic—but I won’t know until I’m almost done. I guess I’ll keep you posted. And then I’ll drink.

Bottoms up!

Blockage.

20. February 2012 · Write a comment · Categories: work in progress

I have a confession to make. I don’t really do the blocking thing. Well, I do, but only when I need to. And by need, I mean, the lace won’t show unless I block it. Oh, I have the tools alright; I’ve got the blocking rods, and the blocking boards, and more T pins than a girl can shake a finished object at. I just think I don’t really have the wherewithal to do it. Or maybe it’s just patience. Whatever.

This time, however, I had no choice. I recently finished my Leggo my Ginkgo scarf and if I wanted the design to even vaguely resemble the ginkgo leaves in a squinty-eyes-tilt-your-head sorta way, I had to bite my lip and block. The pattern said something that I thought was really interesting—they mentioned that it should soak in water for 30 minutes, then squeeze out the excess. Now that’s the first time I’ve seen anything other than “get that finished object wet.” And you know what? It makes sense. With wools full of lanolin, these fibers do everything they can not to soak up the elements. So 30 minutes in the sink it was.

First thing I noticed: I didn’t have enough pins (I now have four times that amount of Tpins, so I’m feeling better about my next blocking adventure).

Second thing noticed: I got MUCH more design definition in the lace border with this method than when I used the blocking wires. It might be that I didn’t do those right—or it might be those wires are better for real, true lace weight projects, and not lacy patterns made from sock or DK weight. Why wouldn’t anybody tell a girl this kind of stuff up front? I mean, it’s like I actually have to have a clue, or something.

Third thing noticed: Blocking really does work wonders. It’s amazing a) the amount of detail it shows, and b) the amount a piece will actually stretch during blocking. I understand that there is a bit of shrink back once you take it off the blocking .. ummm, blocks… but holy cow, there’s a lot of stretch in that that knit piece! I’m finally convinced that blocking is a necessity. This blocking experiment has actually convinced me to reblock the two 198 yards of related hellishness that I did last year. (Okay okay, reblock one, actually block the other. Details, shmetails.)

Now, if only I can get assorted people roaming the house to keep their mitts off a block in progress, then I’m good.

 

This is the scarf that never ends.

18. February 2012 · Write a comment · Categories: work in progress · Tags: , , , , ,

Anyone who has spent any time knitting whatsoever knows the feeling of a project that has firmly kicked your ass. In fact, it might be the death of you but, more stubborn than smart, you trudge on, resolve and determination to finish alternately strengthening and deteriorating, depending on the day, the mood, the weather. Dryad is mine. Don’t get me wrong; I love this scarf. It’s a Jared Flood pattern, full of amazingly intertwined cables. While he’s done it in tweed (seriously, he’s not Brooklyn Tweed for nothing), I couldn’t afford this scarf in tweed—I swear to you, it’s six feet long. (Okay I looked it up, figuring I was being waaaaay too dramatic. And the long version? The one I’m aiming for? 90 inches long. Go again, do the math, I’ll wait here. AHA! That’s 7’5″—seven feet, five inches!!! A foot-and-a-half longer than my delusions have led me to believe!!!! So clearly, I’m not insane. This is one hella long scarf, people.)

Now while I love cables, this pattern is a 24 row repeat, and you have to do 21 of them. That’s not a small number. (Over 500 rows just for the basic cable repeats, in case you’re too overwhelmed with my brilliance to do the math.) So, like any decent knitter worth her stash, I seem to have several projects going at the same time—something lacy, something complex (this pattern), something mind numbingly easy to knit while traveling/tv watching/knit knighting. You know the drill. So I would work on this in spurts, but apparently I’m taking a bit long for my friend iAudrey who recently snarkily innocently commented, “Haven’t you been working on that scarf a couple years now? And you’re what, halfway? Only a couple more years to go!” (And by-the-way, Ms. Snarkypants, I just checked my Ravelry projects and this was started Oct 4, 2010, so it’s NOT two years old. Yet. SO THERE!) Granted, it doesn’t help that I drop it so I can do something else, but I do enjoy the pattern. In small doses. I’m also working this in Berocco’s Remix, which has a tweedy look but is all reused fibers, which is cool. However, the yarn has little give, acting much like cotton, and I find that wears on me after a time. I like knitting with give. Whatever.

Last week I went to Austin, and decided to take Dryad as my lone project. I was determined to make progress, but wanted to be realistic. So I took the project in hand, didn’t take more yarn and, again per iAudrey, I “stitched that bitch.” I stitched that bitch on the flights to Austin, I stitched that bitch in my friend’s car to and from the conference, I stitched that bitch during breaks in the conference, I stitched that bitch in airports waiting for a ride home. I stitched that bitch until I was all out of my second ball of yarn and, lo and behold, I am actually at the length (13 repeats) of the small version. BOOYAH!

I am calling that a win.

So I’ve joined the next ball of yarn and I’m in a good place. I’m still not done, but I can see that I will most likely take this all the way through to the end of this skein, no matter how many repeats I’ve gotten through (it should be about nineteen or so, since I seem to get about six repeats per skein). Maybe, by that time, I will want to go the extra mile (or two repeats, whichever is shorter; probably the mile). But I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay with letting it go, too. And then I can finally wear it. Or use it to save orphans who have fallen over a cliff.

Your mileage may vary. And the peanut gallery can just shut it, Ms. Snarkypants.

Jared Flood's Dryad scarf

Dryad scarf. In progress. Ad infinitum.

Like clockwork.

14. November 2011 · 2 comments · Categories: work in progress · Tags: , , ,

So, I’m working on Westknit’s Clockwork scarf, and I’m loving it. This project was truly born out of the spur of the moment. I’d finished the Ironic Hipster hat out of Indigodragonfly’s Yak! Bam! and had fallen in love with the feel of it. Unfortunately for Kim, I saw her online and started whining about needing a new project. Unfortunately for me, Kim had just dyed a dozen new colors, and suggested this as a lovely accent piece to the hat. Even better, this is a relatively simple pattern to repeat, and I am enjoying the easy knit. It flew to Austin (where I originally started the orange/brown as the dominant color, then changed my mind) and knit in #heweb11, and choral concerts, and TEDxPSU. It’s a great travel piece.

A couple of notes: A slipped stitch selvedge is pretty much a given mod, with the switching rows of colors (just like on the Noro scarf). I’m somewhat surprised he hadn’t built that in, frankly, but maybe that’s standard operating procedure for real knitters. Who knows?

So fast forward to Sunday night, where I’ve just finished the first section. As I’ve really taken advantage of the fact that this is knit knit knit, I’ve had to correct a couple spots where I wasn’t paying attention and caught two threads in a stitch. Relatively easy fixes, and I was still feeling pretty good about being able to correct on the fly. Now that we’re at the point where we pull out and reset the stitch markers, I thought it would be nice to get my bearings and count my stitches just to make sure I’m on the right track. Unbelievably, I’m 22 stitches off. WTF???!?

Dammit. Who thought that was a good idea???

So at this point I should have 273 stitches, and I only have 251. Twenty-two missing stitches. Which, if think about it, is really 11 twice, which makes me suspect that on one of the gray stripes back at the beginning, I missed an increase on each end, which would totally work out to 22 missing stitches. (I think. Honestly, it hurts my brain to think about this too hard, mostly because I don’t want to find out that it’s worse than I think it is right at this moment. Best to keep my head in the sand a bit longer.) Of course, now I am going to have to break down and find out whether my missing stitches are evenly spread on either side, or if I have an uneven extra on one end.

I say again, dammit. This is what happens when you think you can be all smart and just go with the flow and multitask. I must admit, I’m not nearly as upset as I probably should be, so that’s something. Or maybe I’m just full of shit. Yeah, that’s probably it.

Dammit.

Update, 2:40AM: So apparently I need to remember that counting is best done in the quiet. The first time I counted was by tens (and then marking them on my iPhone’s stitch marker, so I wouldn’t forget), and I was in the middle of a TEDx break. Stoopid girl. I went back, now, to count stitches per section, and what did I find? I was off by 2–TWO–stitches on one end. *Facepalm* Apparently I missed accounting for a couple of those ten groups I was counting. Go figure. Anyhow, anticipated crisis averted. Fixed and done, and moving on.

Whew.

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