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.

 

Recalling Rhinebeck from afar.

19. February 2012 · Write a comment · Categories: rhinebeck · Tags: , , , , , ,

Apparently when I ported my blog over from wordpress.com to the knitpistol site, I lost my Rhinebeck 2011 entry. This is an appalling discovery, as that entry, first written on October 19, was an ode to a beautiful weekend getaway with part knit pistols, part Canadian pistols, and all fun. I have exactly seventeen words from that entry:

October 19, 2011 by robin2go. This weekend was Rhinebeck (aka NYS Sheep & Wool festival). You know, mecca of all things yarnporn…

And that, as they say, is all Google cached. Dammit. But I’m stubborn, and I do believe I still have pictures, so let me try to recall the weekend—before it slips even farther from my grasp—and at the very least, repost some of the wonderful memories I have. Before the mind is gone completely.

Rhinebeck is a very full trip. The first time KnitPistols did Rhinebeck in 2009, we got up at o’dark hundred Saturday morning, drove five hours to the fairgrounds for Day 1, got overwhelmed, passed out in a middle-of-nowhere, kinda scary motel room with snoring and leaky air mattresses, went back for Day 2 and more determination, then a long five hour trip home. Like I said, a very full trip.

This year was a different trip altogether. My friend @EmilyKnits grew up in the Rhinebeck area, and knew of a lovely rustic house and barn that was still available for rent for the weekend. Audrey and I were in for the adventure, so late Friday afternoon with Canadians traveling southeast, and Pennsylvanians traveling northeast, we hit the road for Rhinebeck. We arrived at Kathleen’s barn in time to unpack, relax, welcome the Canadian contingent, have some dinner, and get ready for the festival.

Getting up after a night’s comfortable sleep and driving a mere ten miles to the fairgrounds makes an incredible difference in energy level and motivation. The day was beautiful and the festival did not disappoint. There were book signings by the Yarn Harlot and Ysolda, and stalls with patterns, samples, roving, and yarn. There were people who wore many beautiful things and were good spirited enough to allow pictures to be taken so that later queues could be updated and faves marked. There was amazing food to be sampled many, many times. And of course, there was a Ravelry meet up, complete with photo opportunities with @ysolda, @frecklegirl, @casey and the rest of the Ravelers young and old.

Back from the first day, our household spent the evening relaxing in front of a fire, showing off the day’s haul, updating Ravelry stashes, knitting on works in progress, listening to @EmilyKnits’ William Shatner album, and laughing. Lots of laughing. I learned I don’t hate gin, I only hate bad gin, and @CraftyGrrrl showed me that a Hendrick’s gin and tonic was is a beautiful thing to behold. I found a new Canadian knitting friend in @ZippyKittyToo and we’ve already talked about plans for next year. Somewhere in the middle, we rousted ourselves to walk up the street to dinner, and ended up in a local yarn shop buying more yarn (because what else would knitters be doing after a long day at a yarn festival?). Back to the house, and  more gin. And yarn. And laughter.

Day two: Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Laughter. Yarn. Gin. Friends. Sunshine. Relaxation. Yarn. Gin.

At the end of the weekend, reluctantly, we got on the road to head back to reality and Pennsylvania. The Canadians had one more day and took off Monday morning—and we enviously decided that would be us next year as well. For Rhinebeck has found a new place in my heart for laughter, for yarn, and camaraderie. For taking the time to slow down and enjoy the weekend, the surroundings, and the friends. For inner peace, inner light, and personal rejuvenation. Thank you @iAudrey, @EmilyKnits, @CraftyGrrrl, and @ZippyKittyToo for making this weekend something more than just about yarnporn. Thank you for making this about friendship and us. I’m ready for next year already.

 

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.

Now with 20% more shiny.

22. January 2012 · Write a comment · Categories: Uncategorized

This weekend, as part of a larger blog/ePortfolio renovation, I’ve decided to retheme knitting mayhem. While I am certain I could have done a lot more, I like to think that an iterative process allows me to add little bits, see how I like it, and then add–or change–to suit. At least, that’s my story.

The cool part is that I took some time to go through my flickr library and view all my stash pictures that I’ve taken and uploaded to Ravelry. Two things stood out: my friend Unraveling takes the best damned pictures because she has an amazing camera, and I have one hella stash. So most of the day has been spent pulling the best pictures into Photoshop, making, cropping, and uploading new headers that show off some of my awesome bits of fiber. Mmmm, lovely!

So stay tuned. Among other things, I’m planning to add a legitimate blog roll, a better flickr widget that allows some pretty pictures to live on the site and, last but not least, give some serious Ravelry love. Now that they’ve made Ravelry links easier to view (hat tip to Casey!), we shall see if we can get more integration with Ravelry. No promises. But it’s definitely on the list.

And now, back to the knitting!

Tis the season.

28. December 2011 · Write a comment · Categories: dana · Tags: , , , , ,

I love the holidays. We don’t travel like other families do, and I am secretly glad for this. TheCop put his foot down years ago when our daughter was born and he couldn’t handle loading up our small car with baby stuff, holiday stuff, packing stuff, a new baby and an under-slept, over-caffeinated wife just so we could drive to a location where he then couldn’t relax for a week. Instead, we stay home and create our own family traditions. This made great sense with each new kid added to the mix. It’s probably one of the few things TheCop has ever put his foot down about and with which I wordlessly went along.

That doesn’t mean company isn’t welcome to visit. On the contrary; I love cooking for lots of people, and holidays are one of the few times I get to do the June Cleaver domestic kitchen goddess thing (just don’t look at the rest of the house). This year my sister TheProgrammer came for Thanksgiving, bringing her newly minted fiance with her. These are two of my favorite people in the world. We have a lovely time together and I cannot refuse her anything. When I went out to stay with her when she had hip surgery a couple of years ago, she wanted to learn to knit, and I came prepared. She can cast on like nobody’s business but, by the third row, her stitches are so tight she literally cannot get her needle through the stitch. It’s practically a gift, that, because now I feel sorry for her. While I was there I made her a cropped red cardigan and, for her birthday, I introduced her to one of Portland’s lovely yarn stores, Knit Purl, and had her pick out Noro that I would transform into the classic striped Noro scarf.

You get the idea.

So during a few hours on Thanksgiving where I wasn’t cooking, we went downstairs and I let my sister shop in my yarnporn stash for her next project. I wasn’t terribly worried about her wanting something I didn’t want to give her — she fell in love with a new fibre or color every third skein. (I told you we were related.) But then I started showing her some finished objects, and that was the beginning of my downfall. She wanted to see my cream tweedish jacket I had been working on that she’d heard so much about. That was my first mistake. She loved it and now wants one of her own. Hmmm. Well, okay, but let’s redirect her to smaller projects that can be easily finished, shall we?  I thought she might like a hat next, so I brought out several for her to try on.

That was my second mistake.

She tried on my Rose Brown (Rose Red but in, well, brown) and fell in love with it. Totally, absolutely, completely in love with it. Cool! Because I happen to have another skein of ultra alpaca and can match it exactly. And then came the words a knitter dreads:

“Oh, so can I have this one then?”

What the what!??!? My second project ever! And then the horror of it all: I heard myself say, “Sure.”

What the what!??!?

And then I realized why knitters are the way we are. Our finished objects are nice, and beautiful, and finished, but they are so much better when they’re given with love. And that, ladies and gentle knitters, is why we find ourselves up at all hours trying to finish holiday WIPs as the hours draw us closer to those gift exchanges we’re not quite yet ready for, our knitting traveling everywhere with us, just trying to manage a few rows here and there. I think it’s why we do what we do. Even when we don’t realize we’re doing it. It’s all about the love.

Tis the season.

Hey girl.

13. December 2011 · 1 comment · Categories: humor · Tags: , , , ,

So you’re getting closer to the holiday deadline, knitting your wits out, desperately trying to get last minute WIP gifts done so they can be wrapped and given away to family and friends. Perhaps you feel alone in your desperation, reaching for an impossible goal. Just imagine if you had a special guy in your corner, encouraging you, helping where he could, and even stepping in to do the heavy lifting? Well now you can — yes, even married gals like me can have a supportive guy on the side. Without further ado, I present to you your early Christmas present, my brethren: Handmade Ryan Gosling.

picture of Ryan Gosling saying "it's killing me that you have to frog all those rows."

I know, right??! Thank you to Alaina Wiens (@alainawiens) for bringing to my attention one of the best knitting links I’ve seen in a looong time. We may have to take this to the next level. So when you’re frustrated about frogging, or tired of prepping your goods for sale, just think about who’s got two thumbs and is ready to stand by you in your time of need?

That guy. Also, yum!

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.

Rhinebeck MIA.

19. October 2011 · Write a comment · Categories: mea culpa, rhinebeck · Tags: , ,

So this is where my account of Rhinebeck *would have been* had I not apparently blown it away in the reassignment of space in the blogosphere. For a pieced together remembrance written four months later (also known as, Whoops! Take two!) you can read it here: Recalling Rhinebeck From Afar.

And try not to blow shit up next time, ya know?

*headdesk*

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